#if you can hear this in your head go take a walk

[luvyeni]

jeongin finally giving in after all your oblivious teasing

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 아이엔 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. oral ( f ). unprotected sex. word count. 0.8k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ my smau will definitely be a ayen one i miss him.

if it wasn’t for the fact that this has happened almost every day for the last year you two have been living together jeongin could’ve sworn you were doing this on purpose — riling him up just to leave him high and dry each and every time.

but you didn’t know it , you didn’t know that when you’d squeeze his thigh when you’re randomly talking about something that excited you, he had to think about anything else to keep him from getting hard. or when you’d walk around the house in an oversized shirt and shorts so short they might as well be panties while you cleaned or lounged around.

he constantly had a hard on when you were around ; and you didn’t even notice , and it was eating him up inside. “innie?”

he was brought back hearing your voice. “are you listening?” no he wasn’t , his eyes were current bulged out of his head because you were standing there in a towel. “i said the water is cold , you need to cool it on the 2 hour showers.” you pouted , the water dripping down your face. “i could only shower for 15 minutes that’s not even enough time fo…” it was like your voice was fading away , he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “you aren’t even listening.”

before his brain could send him a warning ; his feet were moving , and moving near towards you. “jeongin.” his hand coming to your face , you gasped out. “please shut up.” before you could even scold him his lips were on yours , you took a step back , but he didn’t let you pull away , he only pulled away when he began to get light headed due to lack of oxygen. “fuck i need to do that again.”

he could barely keep it together as he basically dragged you back to your room. “je-jeongin slow down , what’s gotten into you?” it’s not like you didn’t like it , you were just confused. “you , you’ve gotten into me , you don’t even know.” he pushed you down on the bed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

he was bent down on his knees in front of you , his mouth kissing in between your thighs. “innie.” you sighed , moaning as you felt his breathing on your cunt. “fuck you smell so good.” he kissed your mound , licking your folds. “oh fuck innie.” your hands tangling up in his hair as he ate your cunt like a starving man , finally getting a taste of you.

“so good.” your legs hanging off his back ; your taste was addicting , it was even better than he envisioned , he groaned , his cock becoming unbearably hard. “fuck innie , im gonna cum.” you tugged at his roots to try and pull him away from your cunt , but he held your thighs tightly , he did not want to let you go. “fu-fuck! im cumming !” you shouted as you came , your juices dripping on your tongue. “i-innie.”

he finally pulled away, the towel now laying on the bed leaving you bare. “fuck if i didn’t need to feel you on my cock , i could spent the rest of the day in between your legs.” he slowly made his way up to you , undoing the string to his sweats. “you taste so good.” your face was flushed watching him pull his cock out , it was big , and veiny with a precum dripping from his red tip. “so-so big.” he cursed , pressing his cock against your hole. “but you can take it right?”

he didn’t even wait for you to answer , pushing his cock inside , watching your mouth drop open. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he pulled out , pushing back inside. “so fucking warm.” folding your body in half , legs pressed against your chest as he began to pound into you. “fuck just like i dreamt of.” he grunted. “re-really?” you stuttered.

“fu-fuck baby yes , but you have been so inside the pretty little head -shit- you haven’t even noticed how bad i wanted to fuck you.” he hit that spot inside you , your fingers raking down his back , he hissed. “jeongin im gonna cum.” you cried out , the knot in your stomach tightening. “fu-fuck me too.” he groaned. “where do you want it?”

“inside.” he had to stop for a second to keep from cumming that second. “sh-shit i almost came.” he moaned. “you want me to cum inside you?” you nodded. “ye-yes please.” he sped up his movements. “fu-fuck im gonna cum , want you to cum on my cock.” both of you moaning out. “fuck cum , cum on my cock.”

you let out a breathy moan , mouth dropping over as you came. “of fuck , im fuck-fucking cumming, nmph!” he cursed as he came inside you , you whimpered as he rode out your orgasms. “fuck im still hard.” he said breathlessly. “i need more of you.” he started to move again , slowly dragging his cock in and out of you. “fuck i need to make you cum more.”

“i need to fuck you until you only remember my cock.”

©️LUVYENI

[kooyabooya]

INSIGHT

m reader x gaeul // 17k words

It’s not much to unpack: the findings or purpose one pursues. You know this. Everybody’s different, and that’s not limited to the sex - it also accounts for the experiences and connections you make with someone, exploring the limitless possibilities of what or who you want in your life. You’ve been told that the ‘one’ might be out there and have yet to realize it. No one could ever really pin it down to one reason. 

But what’s there to overreact about? You’re a hopeless romantic. 

Okay. To backtrack on the hopeless romantic thing, that’s not entirely true; you’re on the eve of something big here, and the intuition is approaching that conclusion by the second. 

None of this should be that easy from the get-go. Delving into casual conversation to the nice meals and then the eventual ditziness finds you and her on the bed of fucking each other’s brains out until one of you is practically paralyzed from the waist down. That’s the essential beauty of it, right? The hints and signals are right in front of your face; all it takes is a simple notice of interest that can lead anyone to think if they feel the same way. 

You’re not entirely sure, but taking this date with a grain of salt was the best course of action to follow. Besides, it’s too early to delude yourself into thinking about a future with Gaeul. 

(Though, it’s worth noting: 

She never coined it to be a date; said that it was too direct on the nose. In all fairness, you just needed a plus one to tag along with you. It could’ve been anybody else, but Gaeul was the first person to come to mind. You and her have similar interests - a point of connection strong enough to expand on. She didn’t mind keeping you company, and the fact that she was willing to circles your mind far longer than it should’ve.) 

Which brings you to here: standing in front of a timely art piece that looks to be dated from the 1600s. Or- at least that’s what the plaque says on the bottom left corner of the frame. However, you also feel like the people in the room with you are also playing their role like they do in those typical romance movies or serial dramas. You also begin to wonder if people go to an art museum in their free time just to look at fine pieces curated by people who have an obsession for old pictures or to dress up to match the aesthetic and pretend that they know what the hell they’re talking about. 

Given how you’ve dressed up for the occasion, they’d probably be right.

Gaeul herself matches the look so well. Her stilettos are one thing, but the bright-colored skirt along with her high socks are doing wonders for highlighting her legs, with her old-fashioned pink top that looks to be from the Victorian era simply bolsters the elegance past your personal rating scale. She’s also got her slightly-thick-rimmed glasses and the low braided ponytail wrapped in a small bow at the end. You can’t deny it, she’s gorgeous. The kind of girl that’s hard to come by and you’ve struck yourself out of the ballpark by getting her here. She walks at a pace, her strut consistent and punctuated with the way her feet are carrying her. It doesn’t help with the fact that you keep thinking about how you’d hold her hanging ponytail when her head is between your legs, or how she’d let you take off her socks with solely your teeth and show that you do more than just run your mouth. You stand behind her by a few inches and just watch that amazing side profile of hers, molded and chiseled by God himself. 

Her eyes stay fixed on the piece in front of her. Blinking. Examining. You resist the urge to stand behind her and bury your nose in the back of her head. 

You look away for a second only to hear her sigh, and watch as her arms cross over her middle. The stance alone can tell you that she’s the kind of girl that will do damage to you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t know,” says Gaeul, looking left to notice you approach her left side, pointing her lips back to the art piece as you give it a fraction of your attention - staring at Gaeul with the corner of your eyes, thinking of all the ideas your hands could have on her pretty face, her small hands, lifting her by the waist when she hugs you. “This isn’t the actual ‘Starry Night’ painting, is it?” 

You laugh, because the question itself was supposed to be rhetorical. “No, it is. Not a replica. The real thing.” 

“No, but look,” Gaeul slips her hand around your arm and pulls you closer while she points out to the painting again with her finger. You’ve had crushes on girls throughout high school and college, but there’s a sense of a pull here that’s different from the rest. “This is something that you would do, hm?” 

You lean more closely at the painting and feel her face rest along the line of your upper arm. The picture itself was a mix of these yellow circles over a blue canvas - you think - has to do something about admiring the view that nature presents, which explains the artist’s approach with the usage of the abnormal brushstrokes. “Right.” You get the underlying appeal of the painting’s message, that’s for sure. 

Gaeul giggles, humming a sound too elegant and pretty for its own sake. You’re playing it cool as best you can. It’s a lot to keep track of her sparkling eyes so full of you within them that you’re nervous to even speak a coherent sentence. She looks dangerously good in her outfit: hugging the curves, the collars and ends of her sleeves dancing in these wavy, coquettish lines. That hint of lace she’s wearing is also cute - only for it to be outshined by her exposed collarbones and neck. 

(So, you might be insane here. Try acting differently about it all you want. It’s no use.)

Gaeul then looks at the art piece adjacent to the right - twists her head behind, eyeing the walkway, her gaze now matching yours, cocking her head to the side with her lips pursed. 

“Hmm?” she hums, innocently. There’s a minute tug at the corners of her mouth, a small smile. Her teeth start to peek under her upper lip. 

You’re holding your breath here for a second or two longer. 

“Uh, I didn’t say anything,” you tell her, pulling your lips inward to hide your returning smirk. 

Before you and her move to the next room, you’ve deduced that a woman like Gaeul is no mere anomaly. She is intangible, quixotic, reserved, sensible, and the kind of person who doesn’t let anyone get too close for her comfort. There’s a motivation to be seen with her, the way that her grin and shrug of her singular shoulder gives you the implication that she’s into you. Your gaze goes inquisitive when she’s sashaying timidly further and further away from your sight. 

–

Let’s take a step back here - go to the drawing board, make a new page. There’s substantial progress here. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to have your input solicited. 

Gaeul looks through her handbag, pulls out various items, puts on hand cream and retouches the makeup on her face. You’re on the other end of the table, watching her, listening to the guy nearby do a fantastic take of Take Five on the saxophone with flying colors. Gaeul’s also waving her head from side to side, closing her eyes with a soft smile spread across her lips implying that she likes the music. 

As for the art museum trip itself, you don’t take anything away from what you were supposed to look at and write down - probably because the focus shifted from taking notes to getting a conversation going with Gaeul whenever she was curious about a certain piece or at least your interpretation of what work itself. One of the other pieces that you and her take notice of was from your courses that you don’t remember learning a mere inkling about. A piece from the romanticism era revolved around these two lovers, one of them being madly in love while the other is still trying to figure out their feelings and desires, or vice versa; it may be unappealing for your outlook in artistry, but once you saw the meaning behind the paintbrush and use of strokes, the feeling hits too close to home. 

“From this artwork, what do you want us to take away from it,” someone probably asked back then - the same kind of question that earns a few eye rolls and those heavy sighs used to hide the bubbling frustration within, gets a good number of people scratching the back of their head - though nobody answers it right away unless it’s the professor. 

“Well, that’s not for me to decide,” the professor answers, earning a subtle nod of the head by her, the way the shade of her hair shimmers in the room and how it flows at the turn of her head, glimpses of her skin for you to admire once she has nothing left to say, almost like she was speaking those words to you - waiting for your answer. “The personal interpretation of the painting has to be discovered on your own.” 

In a way, he has a valid point. He’s knowledgeable enough to know what he preaches. He’s passionate about this course alone and it really could take a simple business pitch with a pen to get on board with what he’s selling. 

You have an idea of what message he’s trying to get across, but maybe you’ve got it all mixed up in between still. 

–

The groove of discovery isn’t a straightforward, linear path. Some days your understanding is there, and other times it’s all up in the air; you’re stopping by a food truck near some plaza in the early hours of the evening off the gut feeling that it just feels right; you also find yourself staring at her wide eyes when she gets the first taste of those potato chips she convinced you to buy, wiping a corner of her lips with her tongue. 

It’s almost too good to be true, honestly, that she’s sitting next to you at a park bench as the sky above is painted in these hues of purple and orange to reflect off the sunset, her appearance mimicking royalty and you - her knight in shining armor. She looks up to the sky before offering you her bag of chips, the tilt of her head and how she blinks is so - unbelievably enchanting like she’s unintentionally guilt-tripping you even though you’ve done nothing wrong at all. You take up on her offer, keep a mental note of how she’s so attentive in the way that your hands move and the way that your lips punctuate each letter and phrase so eloquently. Her bottom lip is pulled back into her mouth, holding the foil in her fingers so delicately. 

You can easily tell. She’s enamored; she keeps hitting your arm lightly and plays along with your inside jokes; there’s also that smirk she does in embarrassment and tries to hide away from but you’re still staring at her anyway. 

She stays close to you. Comfortable. Exactly the way you want her to be. You could kiss here right and now and she might be okay with it. You’ll try it eventually, because why not? 

Later, Gaeul walks slightly ahead of you, turns around, and takes your hands in hers, standing on her tiptoes to somewhat match your height. “I’m curious about your eyes, how they look,” she says, not that she meant for it to be embarrassing, but something that she’s noticed the first time and now she can’t ignore it. “They’re enchanting.” 

“Your smile,” you say back. She flashes that exact smile, wearing it with pride. “I like when you smile that way.” 

“My smile is always like this.” 

You sweep her off her feet and twirl yourself around. A finger pulls some of her hair behind her ear, grazing a thumb across her temple, careful enough to not ruin the surface. 

Gaeul looks up. Her head leans into the touch of your hand, inviting. 

This is where it all starts; a genesis of sorts: you drink in the sight of how she is right now, half-lidded eyes, her hands slipping behind to the back of your neck, pulling you in; you, leaning into her body, hands sliding and dipping to the curves where she wants you to hold, keep her in your grasp and unravel her bit by bit; it’s fine to be skeptical, figuring out something new is all part of the learning process. 

You turn your imagination into a reality when you finally kiss her. 

The pull of her into you elicits this gentle hum rumbling within her lips. Given how her fingertips were clawing into your scalp for a second there, she didn’t even put up a fight to begin with. 

The realization of losing her also sets in for a quick moment, the silence alone holding out for longer than it initially should. She continues to blink, teeth capturing the upper profile of her lip just slightly. You might be a bit too forward, but you’re waiting to see what she thinks before you consider dialing it back. 

“That’s not fair-” she stutters, tongue to the inside of her cheek, laughing and then tapping your shoulder soon after. “Normally, I- I’d hold out until we got a little farther with how things are currently.” You also notice that she’s not opting to be let go from your touch, or give you this look of confusion with wide-open eyes or a hand covering her mouth. Her fingertip traces along her lips, internalizing what had just happened. “Don’t tell me you’ve been wanting to do that since the second you saw me earlier. ‘Cause if you were, then I’m in really deeper shit than I expected.” 

“Might be right,” you mumble. “Sorry, I’m not the kind of person to half-ass things. Not my style.” 

“Troublesome,” Gaeul whispers across your lips. You steal a kiss from her again, and this time she gives you a shocked expression. “Hey, again-” 

You’re laughing, rightfully so. She’s pulled into your arms as you spin her around - hearing her laugh also when she’s cradling your head, bringing her back down to earth only for her to kiss you the next second, with more force and tongue. She doesn’t stop there. She keeps on kissing, prompting you to give a fair fight. It’s free reign for her - first, the cheek, then the line of your jaw, and the spot where your chin and neck meet that sends your mind reeling. 

Gaeul then takes one more kiss before the bus makes its eventual stop, pulling you by the wrist to get inside and take one of the seats at the end of the car, away from whoever might take notice. From there she picks up where she left off; her legs are swung over yours, her fingers keep your head in place as she’s placing these sweaty kisses all over your face once more, causing you to rope her in and slide a hand underneath her shirt to her chest. 

“Putting the effort where it counts, huh?” she says when you shift her hips closer to yours. Her giggles are also so pretty that it matches the hot blush colored across her face. 

You look over to the rest of the bus, take into account that there was one other person on the opposite end towards the front with their back turned. “Did you have any other place in mind where you want me to do this?” 

“No,” Gaeul responds with an absorbed smirk. “Not at all, I like what you’re doing so far,” she’s telling you, upholding with a press of her forehead against yours. “It’s riling me up a bit, actually.” 

“Oh? That so?” 

Gaeul nods, leaning in for a much softer peck this time, wiping a wisp of your hair. “Don’t be shy, keep going.” 

You blink twice at the surprising request, figuring out how to handle this situation - let alone what to say or even do at this point. All of that doesn’t matter when all she wants is you. One second later you’re kissing her again - with much more force through every passing press of your lips until the only thing that she can manage is to tilt her chin up and keep on receiving. Two more pecks couldn’t hurt, and she’s giggling when her hand’s patting your chin, kissing her palm to return the favor. 

“How am I doing now?” You ask her again, pressing another kiss to her neck right where the pulse courses rapidly underneath. 

Gaeul’s breaths here are dragged out and unshackled; you’re already thinking ahead of what she’ll sound like when she’s reduced to a moaning mess asking for more. She’s on track there but it’ll take a little bit. She nods - and holds your head at bay, “Okay.” That first response is controlled, feeling out the situation. “Okay,” she repeats, her teeth are peeking out across that pretty little mouth of hers. The hum in her throat drops an octave: “you’re doing really good.” 

Like you needed any other form of implication; the way that she’s playfully scratching your scalp, eagerly leaning for another kiss, this is good stuff you’re doing. Stay in the pocket with her, and continue doing those same things. 

You have to hear that sound from her again. No. You need to hear that sound come out of that sweet mouth, as you slide your hand between her closed legs - pull her closer, closer - and get her within your reach once your palm slips beneath her skirt, feel the sudden hook of her arms around your neck keep her in place. She presses her legs together, trying to maintain the heat in her panties once your fingertips get their first touches. Gaeul hums into your lips, encouraging you, and gives the go-ahead as she opens the space wider in the middle of her thighs for you to capture - her body much rucked up against yours, trying so hard to not come loose. You’ll double down on the reassurance, that’s for sure. 

“Fingers, your fingers,” Gaeul grits, hissing; she’s unraveling. “Holy fuck-” 

Her fingers are well wrapped to the nape of your neck. You can see her brows furrowed together - the lines of her face crinkling; only for them to disappear entirely, relaxed. She forgets about reality for a moment when you slot your lips perfectly with hers, sinking two of your fingers right down the knuckle of her sopping cunt. You watch as she looks down, lips parted to an ‘o’ shape. 

“Fuck, that’s-” she’s babbling, putting her mouth back up with yours - forcing down a moan into your throat, trying to figure out the next thing to say. “Forget what I said, that’s amazing.” 

She pulls her in close as much as possible, hips bucking and jerking when your fingers glide gently between her folds, at the slit. It’s worth noting that the gentler your strokes are, the worse it is for her - so you keep the pace slow for now, waste as much time as you can, dip a finger inside, and focus on the graveled breathing by her through every passing second. 

“You like that, hm?” You’re telling her. “Gotta say, you’re fucking wet.” 

Gaeul tenses her shoulders. “I know,” she whispers, thighs closing around your hand. You’re kissing her again - open tongue and head tilted back when you bring another digit into play - her moans are hot, curling your fingers inside and pressing at the clit to keep her from thinking straight, pressing at the hottest point in her body until Gaeul eventually buries herself in your neck, stifling her whimpers when she’s cumming all over your fingers. 

“Wow,” you say, breathlessly, smiling as she leans up gingerly to put a kiss to your chin, a job well done.

“Yeah,” mumbles Gaeul. “Yeah.” 

You look over to see the person sitting on the opposite end of the car, their back still turned and hunched over; you take that as a hint that they’re probably knocked out cold. Gaeul’s fingers pull your gaze back into her, her face hot pink. She’s got this lazy smile spread on her lips, breathing with her hand palmed to your cheek, eyes dazed and out of focus. 

You then decide that you can’t help yourself anymore. Laying her down on the seat and eating her pussy out right here. You can’t stop thinking about it, looking up as her upper half crumbles while she cums on your face. She can try to make you stop if her brain isn’t partly mush, can try all she wants to stop you kissing from down her waist and into her thighs or wrapping your fingers around her legs once you’ve got your mouth clamped to her cunt like it’s nothing - you’ve got her laid back and relaxed, hands sliding south past her middle, thinking of all the pretty noises that you can squeeze from that heavenly voice of hers - Gaeul looks up once her hands meet yours at her hips, unwilling to let you go. 

You smile at her before you’re biting your lips without thinking twice. 

The way that she says your name too, does something to your brain, man. She needs you. 

You almost feel bad to be the one asking for permission first: 

“If I eat you out right here, Gaeul. Promise me that you’ll be quiet?” 

Gaeul’s mouth drops, before twisting into a devilish grin. 

She looks over to the same person you were looking at, lip captured by her teeth. “Worth a try,” she answers, still coming down from her high. Her eyes stay on you. The lust one can get is dangerously intoxicating - it may not look good on others, besides her - the shade of hot pink, her little swollen lips, the way that she has to use her fingernail to bite down. But her hand gently clutches your wrist. “Would you be nice if I said to go easy on me?” 

You snort at the question, only because her pleading eyes sell the whole deal to you anyway. 

“Asking a lot from me here, darling. No guarantees,” you tell her and descend between her spread legs. 

–

You keep spacing out since then: of her, the grip of her fingers deep in your hair; grinding her hips against your face as she’s trying to not yelp or shriek to not wake the poor guy sleeping - now completely giddy and well-relieved. She tried to crush your skull from the tongue fucking you were doing to her just ten or so minutes ago. Not to mention the cursing, it’s hard to believe she can say stuff like that. 

She also tells how thoughtful you are walking her back to her place; you know the area well enough to make your way back. You tell her that it’s nothing if anything, it was just more time to spend with you. 

Gaeul smiles at that, fixing up her hair like anyone would to keep her hands moving. Her eyes shoot towards the ground before they flashback up at you, which she’ll admit is a bit awkward for her standards. You can’t stop staring at her; she’s that pretty. It’d be worth preaching about for the rest of your life if it ever came to that. 

She hands you her phone and you’re doing the same -  a simple transaction. The subtle question of ‘it’s okay to call you on this, right?’ rolls off your teeth so easily to where Gaeul gives you a nod to answer. There’s a little bit of wiggle room to grow - filling in the gaps with details as we go - things that will be logged in eventually all with time. 

“I’ll be as blunt as possible: I want something fun,” she tells you as if she already had the general idea swirling around your head. Her fingers are fiddling with the zipper of your jacket. As if she wanted to say it differently but ended up with that. A lifeline or rope for you to hold on to - aware that the threads are tearing just a bit, but you’ll grab it anyway because you can. “I’ll bite at whatever you throw at me. Who knows, maybe I’ll do the same to even the odds.” 

Slapping a title or caption to this doesn’t always end well - if you’re gonna be honest, it’s impossible to tell whether or not it’ll go the way you hoped for. 

“You sure?” you’re asking, smiling. Since that’s the kind of trap that you were hoping to fall into anyway. In the face of love, you’ve always found yourself folding right at the first hurdle. 

Especially adding onto the fact that you and Gaeul have known each other to a slight degree; through mutuals, to be more specific. That’s one of the weird things that life can work with: instilling these thoughts about someone and telling them things knowing that it could all go wrong down the line; Gaeul rests her forearms on your shoulders, lets her fingers dance along the back of your head, and nod again with a yeah, you’re already infatuating to me as it already is. It’s so bad, she’s never dressed like this before when you’ve seen her with Liz or Wonyoung for that matter. Her chest and collarbones are out in the open air for you to mark up without remorse, tilting her head back with an arched eyebrow and sly smirk, don’t test me, because believe me, I’m gonna ruin your life from here on out. 

You may as well be far gone from the start. 

–

“It’s not that important,” you’re telling Gaeul over on FaceTime, tossing your phone onto the mattress and stretching out your limbs. Gaeul on the other end, groans in annoyance, though her voice is composed, playful. “I think we’re just stuck on a few things from what it looks like.” 

“But this project with Yujin is also one you mentioned a while back to me,” Gaeul responds, forehead filling the phone screen to check what you were doing, but all she sees is the ceiling. “What are you guys trying to achieve again?” 

“What would you do if you were assigned to discover a brand new constellation or galaxy all by yourself? You ask. “Spoiler alert: it’s a lot harder than it sounds.” 

“Maybe next time you should bring me to the observatory, that way I can see what it is you’re looking for,” Gaeul says with a lovely hum and laughs at the end of it.

She’s so cute when she’s playful; her voice alone is enough to make your brain chemistry go haywire. 

“Well, uh- you know Yujin,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “This is important to her. I honestly think that she’s trying to compartmentalize everyone that’s involved, which is a bit of an overreaction I think.” 

Gaeul then sighs, as if she too, is frustrated. “She’s a hard worker. From the outside looking in, maybe she just needs somebody to make her life interesting. Do you know what I mean? I think she’s sex deprived.” 

“You-” and you scrunch your nose, trying to hide a genuine laugh because you’ve been trying to say something along those lines to Yujin for god knows how long, and Gaeul flat-out said it in a matter of days. “You’re not wrong.” You then see her put the phone down facing up on the nightstand. “Her timetable is very slim, so I get why she can’t afford to have any distractions.” 

“Someone like her should always make time for sex.” 

“Are you always this forward?” 

“Not always, might be just for you.” 

“Consider me lucky,” you muse, tongue to the inside of your bottom lip. 

“You boys think of nothing else besides getting between a girl’s legs, huh?

Gaeuls face returns to the screen and all you give her is a pull of your lips inward. She nods when you don’t say anything, proving her suspicions right. You set her off to the side while you keep doing a separate thing to keep yourself occupied while she does the same. While you’re tending to your notes, you imagine Gaeul to be walking around her room; sitting on her bed, or moving to the bathroom or kitchen - keeping a close eye and ear on you and your voice because she’s got a fix on a few interests of yours that outweighs her own. She watches while you give her a few glances here and there. Staying on task was going to be difficult. You text her your address to pass the information without giving a reason as to why. You probably fucked up in that regard. You might’ve. 

(She puts a heart icon on the message to send your mind for a loop, telling you to think of it lightly; hey, show me what’s on the shelf behind you, see if you make your bed in the morning - and you’re carrying a conversation with her for more than an hour or so. She’s asking different kinds of questions; the ones that are along the lines of: How come you don’t have a roommate with you, where do you go for groceries, what’s the distance between your place and mine? The curiosity grows to uncover the mystery, you think. She’s laughing when you flash a look at her on the screen before you carry on with whatever task you are doing, acting all candidly when the both of you know well that you’re doing everything to not press the ‘end call’ button.)

“Wait,” Gaeul breathes, leaning closer through the phone screen. “Didn’t you offer to show me what you were working on over some food?” 

You’re side-eyeing away, hiding a smile. “I did mention that at the beginning but, yeah.” 

“Shoot, okay,” she huffs, dropping her face so that you only see the top of her head, pulling your lips inward to hide the smile. “How bout this: lace or no lace?” 

“Woah.” You freeze. “Hang on now.”

“Do you want me to explain it to you?” You could feel the slow-burning rush of heat spread across your cheeks. The phone screen flashes in your hand, and she chuckles. “Easy, cowboy. I know you want to jump the gun with me, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts before I do anything else.” 

You’re picturing it once she’s managed to break you, bending down to slip her panties back on, stretching the ends until she lets go and the fabric slaps along her skin. She can’t see it, but your mind goes under. When Gaeul presents it so innocently in the way that it is, it’s hard to believe that she’s able to bend your ego with a few simple words and actions. 

“The image of lace - on your body? I wouldn’t share that with anyone else.” 

She rolls her eyes, and hums a sing-song tone to tease you. “Alright, don’t tell me you’re getting hard just at the thought of that.” You drop your jaw and that earns you a deadpan. “Would you mind if I surprise you with a color of my choice?” 

“You know my color. Well- I don’t think too much of the color. I’m easy to impress,” you reply, nonchalant. 

“Oh, I can take my time with the color. It’s just a matter of how long you can hold out.” She’s not posing it as a threat, but the low tone in the delivery is enough to instill a small fear in the back of your mind. 

“Pfft, that doesn’t scare me.” 

“We’ll see about that. When do you want me to come?” she asks, genuinely. 

You make eye contact with her to ensure she’s serious. 

“I mean,” you start. The more your mouth freezes, the more embarrassing it gets. “Whenever you can. If you’re free.” 

Here, Gaeul tilts her head, confident smirk and tongue to her cheek. “Maybe my punishment is to make you wait. I don’t like the dry response and straight face on top of it. That’s not your look.” 

“What do you even achieve out of doing that?” you ask. “You’re holding me out from-” 

“Yes, you’ll get between my legs again like last time. But I think you can give me more than that, which I’m sure about. Make me scream until I lose my voice or I somehow lose the ability to walk. Does that sound good to you?” 

Part of you likes the fact that she’s got no filter; speaking her mind whenever it feels right.

“Sounds like a test to me,” you muse, taking the challenge head-on. You’re not the kind to back away, let alone have any reason to impress her. You’ll prove your point again when the time is right. 

“Give me twenty minutes,” she says to you. The information comes as need to know, anticipatory. You’re teasing her to get here faster: come to my place sooner and we can skip the boring exposition and do more interesting stuff together. “I promise not to keep you waiting.”

–

The time ticks a lot faster and when you realize it, three or four knocks are sounding off on your right. A scuffle of your socks, a swing of the door later, and voila: Gaeul’s in the middle of your doorway, reflecting the same head tilt you’re giving her before she leans forward for a few kisses. It’s real-life b-roll footage, the snapshots and captured moments of love that everyone longs for in some way or another; you’re living in it. 

“Mhm,” she hums, arms well wrapped around your neck with wrists stacked. She smells good, her body lighter than usual, letting you pull her closer because she knows you will. “Looks like somebody missed me.” 

“Uh uh,” you breathe, laughing in the open space of your mouths, shuffling into the apartment some more, stumbling. Gaeul’s keeping her attire easy with a pair of baggy bottoms that’ll slip so easily out of her legs once you get her to stop moving- 

“I’ll have you know that I thought long and hard about what to wear,” adds Gaeul, standing still and taking her sneakers off one foot at a time, her hair pooling from one side to the other. “But then it hit me, why not just keep it casual?” 

“Explains the comfy combo,” you’re telling her. You don’t even realize the bag brandished on her shoulder. “Is that-” 

“Exactly what it looks like. I don’t have anything tomorrow, so I figured I’d use my downtime more wisely.” 

This is fun. Sure, it’s the playful banter, mixed in with the flirting. You’re using every self-restraint you’ve got in your head to not pin her over on the couch and put her hips against yours. 

You simply can’t help it. The law of attraction that’s taking place: you like her, and it can’t get any more complicated than that. You’re positive that she feels the same way - to some extent. She rubs the neckbone at the nape, twiddles the ends of your hair. The smile she has is infectious, watches as your eyes wander across the lines of her face, almost like you discovered fire. Gaeul’s lips then fall flat, nodding. This is the second or third time you’re seeing her exclusively, each one more exciting than the last. 

“Hungry?” 

Gaeul shakes her head, “Hm, kinda.” 

“You’re in luck,” you beam. “I was gonna whip something up anyway.” 

“Aw, how thoughtful.” She tells you when you’re setting her down, walking over to the dining table with her setting her bag down, following not too far behind. While you’re getting yourself situated, she takes the time to let her head look and observe all the things organized on your shelves and tables, a peek into the inner workings of what makes you tick. You could feel her gaze on you once you’ve got yourself situated at the stove and she finally settles down at the kitchen island, opposite from you with a front-row seat. 

You throw a towel on your shoulder, playing the measly bartender part loosely. “Water?” 

Gaeul blinks, hums a noise serving as a yes. 

“This is just for starters,” you tell her, sliding a glass across the marble before eying the brandy resting at the top of the fridge. “If you want, we can get the good drinks later when we’re bored.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Want me to explain why Yujin’s project has been a pain in my ass as of recently?” 

She dips her head down, hiding her smile. 

“I think I can think of a few reasons why she can be a handful for some people,” she says, sipping a bit of the water before she gestures her head to the fridge, wanting to get right to business without wasting any time. “But you care a little too much, so we need to ease your mind a little.” 

“Just trying to not be overbearing; because she’s a piece of work, but I love working with her regardless,” you tell her. Next thing you know the brandy’s been brought down on the counter. While you’re doing that, you’re finding the gaps in her schedule. When’s the next time you’re free? There’s the proposal that you’ll bring her out for a nice picnic, drinks with charcuterie, maybe toss in painting to the mix while you’ll blatantly stare at her cottagecore dress with a wine glass in her hand- 

“Are these your notes?” She asks, pulling one of your many notebooks closer to flip through the pages, looking at the different constellations that are already there, the ones that are easy to recognize. Her eyes dart to you when you’re sliding over a different cup filled with brandy for her to take, taking a sip while you glance over at the two sandwiches on your pan. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is quite a lot of work she has you doing.” 

“The name of the game, essentially,” you’re grinning, transferring over a tablet with pictures of different stars and galaxies from an album you curated. Some are straight out of a textbook, the others you and Yujin have found on separate occasions. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re actually a nerd?” Gaeul asks, mockingly, swiping the screen as you give her an unimpressed expression. 

You crowd behind her shoulder, going through the gallery, leaning her head against yours as your nose brushes her cheek, sighing in approval. Your hands have a mind of their own, slithering around her waist, planting a kiss on her neck - just to tease. Hey, you’re not fooling anyone here. 

“So you’re telling me that Yujin’s been trying to find a constellation of love somewhere in the stars instead of an actual person? Okay-” she holds in her laugh, leaning into your touch with another kiss. “Sorry, I- I can’t help myself, she’s a handful with this.” 

“Food’s ready, by the way,” you tell her. “I can talk about my side of things in the meantime.” 

–

Gaeul, effortless as she is, listens attentively. 

Her elbows are on the table top, most of the sandwich eaten as she keeps her eyes fixated on you. She watches while you’re giving her the basic rundown of what’s going on with your work life to the best of your ability - stops you midway, points to a spot under the corner of your lip, prompting you to check it yourself, which you do. By some klutzy move, you miss it - probably on purpose, enabling her into telling you to lean closer for her to wipe it herself, and with a downward tilt of your face, she hides away for a moment. It’s that implication of playfulness that gives way to curiosity, that sense of restlessness where sex was always going to be the eventual inevitability.  She wipes whatever was on your chin with her thumb, and keeps it there. Next thing you know, her lips are on yours. 

You’re fighting the press of her lips, leaning forward. Her hands suddenly palm your chest, pushing you back into the chair; the conquest picks up when she straddles herself on top of your hips, grazing her lips and nose across your face. The rush itself dies down for a bit - taking the sweet time of tasting each other’s lips and sucking the air out of one another. 

For someone like her to kiss you so eagerly. You’d let her do just that. 

Her jacket gets taken off smoothly, and her bottoms are pulled a bit to where you can see a hint of her underwear, holding her by the hips. 

The fucking lace, alright. She looks unreal the way it hugs her figure. 

At this point you’re just hypnotized by her hands and lips, undoing some of the buttons on your shirt, sliding her way down until the trail of kisses reaches the lower regions. Your pants and boxers pool at your ankles, kicking them off. She kisses the inside of your thighs, lets her breath coat your balls before a lick of the underside shifts your hips forward to the edge of the chair. Her pretty little mouth reaches your tip, delicately kissing it; she knows what the fuck she’s doing. 

“You’ve been fantasizing about this for a little, haven’t you?” Gaeul teases, pleased. She grins when she wraps her fingers at the base, sighs when you hiss some of the air out your lungs. Her breasts are fighting the bra containing them. She then opens her mouth a bit, drops her head, sinks - fuck. The seal alone is just the right amount of pressure. “How much am I willing to bet you yanked one out after our first date?” 

Your midsection tenses, balling your fists because there’s nothing else you would rather do than push your hips upward and fill her throat; not to shut her up, but give her an idea of what she’s in for if she doesn’t play nice. 

You know that she won’t. 

“Well- you’re right. I did exactly that. How did you-” you blow air out instantaneously when she moves down halfway to your shaft, her eyes rolling back as she’s forcibly choking down your cock. Some of the spit leaks out of her mouth, coating the skin, soaking her bottom lip. Some of it lands on her chest. 

“-ust my kind of guess. Now how much are you willing to bet you’ll ruin me with this cock of yours?” she asks once more, giving you no time to answer when she’s putting her head between your legs, suffocating herself before popping her lips off the tip, slapping your shaft across her cheek. “Shouldn’t take you that long, huh?” 

The way she’s smiling while talking you through this filth, it’s gonna break you. You need her. You need her mouth right back on your fucking cock before she entertains the idea of blue balling you to oblivion. “I’m slightly worried that you won’t be able to handle this. Maybe I should just hop on your cock and let you have your fun while you fill me up-” 

“So f-fucking bad, you are,” you grit, stuttering. 

Consider this as karma coming full circle: Gaeul breaking you just by her being on her knees, lapping away your cock while you had your fun eating her out in the back of the bus back to her place less than forty-eight hours ago, holding her close while you made a mess of her underwear with your fingers. She was trying so hard to be quiet, covering her mouth while you were fucking her open. 

“Aw, that’s unfortunate,” she tells you, dropping her mouth again, hand cupping beneath your balls, working her way down your shaft even more. 

Her bobs are meticulous and calculated. The levels of stimulation are over the scale you drew up in your head, and when she gets her other hand in the fun - twisting the base while the one at your balls are being squeezed, you draw your head back against the chair. 

It’s all in the slow buildup: the soft pumps, the occasional spit slathered as the sound of skin on skin becomes even more obscene. Her fingers coil your base when she takes you in that enveloping heat, humming down your cock until you feel the gentle graze of her teeth on the topside, eyes open and going cross-eyed. You’re struggling to come to terms that this girl was the same girl that was dressed up so nicely and princess-like in the art museum asking you and wondering what was the meaning of all these pieces. 

But then you’re reminded, that all of it is just the surface level of certain things - once you get to know someone, you learn as you go along with them. Gaeul just blinks through every move of her head at your hips, coating your cock endlessly and teasing to the point where she wants to see that side of you that you’re capable of showing her - to make you bust over and over again until you filled up her cunt where she’s begging for more, watch as she gets herself off if you’re away from her for too long, break her like it’s meant to be a daily routine from here on out - which will happen, Gaeul’s good enough to get you there sooner than you think, her pretty little lips, her dainty hands, that fucking tongue - you’ll get back at her for breaking you. 

“Sweetie, okay.” You gasp when she bottoms out your cock, groaning aloud that she’s smiling into the length. She keeps working with her hands and mouth, takes a moment to breathe, fingers sliding nice and easy along the slick skin. Staring at you. “Gaeul, please-” 

She’s close to getting you there; begging, and you manage to get a hand to her cheek, hold her face while she sinks her lips back on your cock again. Fuck. You might be too far gone already. Her teeth press down on the skin of your dick and you let out a noise showing another sign of just how good she’s making you lose it. Some of your fingers card her hair, like you’re clawing for a grip on the side of a rock and you swear that your cockhead swells at the top of her throat - you’re left speechless. You’re pretty sure that you can see stars. 

Gaeul smacks your tip across her lips, smiles as she does so. “You love my mouth, don’t you? I bet you’re just dying to cum all over my fingers and make me apologize for not letting you have your fun. Sucks to be you.” 

“Fucking-” you spit. She swipes her tongue on her lower lip, kisses your shaft the second after. Her index and thumb tighten around your base. “Gaeul, I swear-” 

“What? Had enough already?” 

Forget what you assumed about Gaeul. This version of her at your feet blows the performance right out of the water. 

All that boldness; that wit and snark while playing it cool, she swept it all under the rug from you. Anything she does or says to you, she knows that you’ll twist yourself into giving in to what she wants. Bratty might be one way to conclude - the way she hides her pert smile when you can easily tell that it’s a teasing grin. She looks at your shaft so earnestly as she jerks it around her hand, testing the girth and thickness of it when she finally decides enough is enough and tells you to plug that sorry little hole up that is her throat. The choice to paint your mess over her face or drain it down her mouth is up to you; you’ll ruin her just to satisfy your selfish ego. 

“I could just let you, ya know,” she leans more into your palm while her tongue laves across the skin of your balls, breath hot and heavy in the same way her eyelashes bat at you so innocently. “Let you fuck my face and fill my mouth up with this cock. You’ve been good enough for me, I think I just might.” 

She leans back and unclips her bra, revealing her tits; nice and perky, her rosy pink nipples too - you’ll mark her up when you get the chance. Her hands go to her hair, tying it like some party trick that only takes a few seconds, leans down to your stomach and kisses it, licking downwards just enough to make you snap. 

Your hand’s fast to grab the ponytail on the back of Gaeul’s head. 

“Thought you said you’d let me take over,” you tell her. And then: “there we go, look at that. So pretty when your mouth is full of my cock,” you hiss, guiding her down along your shaft, dragging your hips down and up into the addicting clench of her throat. You pull yourself out and smack your tip across her face, smearing the spit and precum. She wants the mess: “Gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you.” 

When she sinks again, you lose focus for a moment. 

“Mmphgh,” she hums, gripping your wrist. “Mmmuugh.” 

“Not so tough now if you can’t talk.” You almost feel bad. It’s unfair how she can still look up at you and smile at the corner of her lips, keeping her gaze leveled as you sink her mouth on your shaft - you thrusting upwards to meet in the middle. She’s handling it like a champ, and it takes a bit for someone to take you whole. 

A drag up, down, then up. She’s halfway on your shaft, rises, goes deeper - you could see her upper lip clamp down at the base, cheeks puffing up to dispel the air. Her head shakes a bit, struggling; sucking her cheeks soon after - god. The blush is a lot more apparent now, her eyes filled with lust. You give her a little bit of breathing room while you crash her face back down on your shaft. 

“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling her velvety mouth, taking all of you. She inhales sharply when you slip out of her - only for her to take you back in as you pick up with the thrusts with every shove of her head back down. 

You are trying, so hard, to not fuck anything up - fucking her face - you’re pretty sure you feel a little lightheaded. Her gaze is hazy, gasping every few seconds or so through the gags before you up the intensity once more. How is she even prettier like this? She has no right. Not when the noises and current actions are this debauched. 

“Mmnph?” She hums, the vibration tremoring on the skin. The clamp of her lips at the base again doesn’t help, but when she slides her tongue along the underside- 

“Jesus, Gaeul-” 

Fuck. She inhales your cock to the hilt and swipes her tongue across the same spot where her lip can’t reach. Rough. 

“Mmph hmm.” 

“Relax your jaw, baby,” and she does so, holding you where the clench is the hottest. She squints her eyes as you move her head side to side, the gagging more punctuated through the wet sounds. Ah fuck-

She makes it so, so easy for you. You’ve got just enough to hold yourself back, tugging at her ponytail while she adjusts her mouth over your length - mindlessly bobbing that makes you forget for a second and get lost in the overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You’d do anything for her, she’d do anything for you: even if making her a slut was part of the process. 

If we’re being honest here, she wouldn’t have gone this far for you to fuck her mouth - like, a well-practiced and simple blowjob from her could’ve been enough for you to lose it - but if she prefers things this way, how her wide eyes keep looking at you with your hand in her hair, she’ll keep it up until you eventually dump your cum all over her tongue. 

You just have to, soon, and you will. Gaeul guides her other hand to yours, giving you free reign - sending her mouth to you. She does it with such grace, so beautifully, the arousal catches you by surprise. 

Her hands slide to your sides, gripping. Goddamnit, it’s clustered all over her face: the rosy cheeks, the swollen mouth, the sound of her mewling and gagging once you’re upping the pace of your thrusts, spit spread all over her face and chest that makes her skin shine, her hair around the tie becoming more and more messier. 

She will make you insane. 

“Mhm mhm,” she sputters out because it takes her a while for her to coherently say it, probably since her cheeks are so full of cock you pull yourself out to the point there are webs of spit plastered over your shaft and on her lips. 

You’re trying to hold it together. Gaeul, not so much - breathing staggered before she nudges her lips along your cockhead again, opens wide, and slides her way back down, the hypnotizing movement of drool with every deepthroat stroke she does on you. 

“Gaeul,” you call out, breathlessly. Her gags just keep on coming, and your hands find themselves in a familiar place yet again. 

She forces your hand down, comes back up for air. You’re left speechless, stunned. She’s kissing up your cock - desperately in adoration, practically begging without being verbal about it. 

“I want it,” she whispers - drops her jaw again, and guides your hand with her head back down on your length. The friction alone hangs your mind in suspense. 

“Fuck my mouth,” she commands; her voice soothing. You don’t think twice when you sink her head back down on your cock, the warmth and plushness of it unfathomable to register in your fucked-out brain. When she comes back up, gasping for air: “Please, sir. Just like that.” 

So you grip her hair again. “Shit.” You pull at the root of her knot, let her graze her teeth along the slick surface of your cock. “Christ- Gaeul,” Her eyes red, mascara smeared, cheeks hollowed out once more as her throat rucks up the head of your shaft, taking you- all of you. 

Easing yourself into fucking her face wasn’t the way to go; it would be like shying away, saving yourself the embarrassment. Your ears close in on the sounds: the choking, the new layer of spit coated across your throbbing shaft. She’s so good with her lips - in the most fucked up way possible, the sloppier she is, the more happy she’ll be when you release your cum in her mouth or on her face. 

Whichever one happens first, that is, you’ll find out soon enough. 

“Gaeul-” you’re saying her name, sighing it out in reverence. “Close, baby. I’m so close-” 

It’s when she curls her bottom lip, the technique of her tongue sweeping that sensitive spot at the underside - it makes your vision focus at a fine point, she doesn’t let up with the gulps and gags, the delicious clench that makes you swallow nothing. Fuck, you feel it. She knows. With every passing drive of your hips, there’s enough wiggle room for her to breathe again. 

She’ll kill you if you let her do this more often. 

–

“Uhm,” you’re calling out to her again, noticing something out of place. “I don’t remember you asking for that.” 

Gaeul turns around, stretches the shirt on her like some bathrobe. It’s funny: the hem at the waistline covers the middle of her thighs, but somehow you can’t help but admit she looks cute in your clothes - even when she’s wiping away the cum and saliva with the collar and there’s no point in complaining. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d be okay with me having a small memento of you,” she says, pulling the fabric behind, molding it to her figure. There’s a playful hum she’s singing, wandering around your place like it’s her gallery, eyeing the trinkets and things that make you well- you. 

“Would you be cool if-” she adds, turning around in some coquettish ingénue pose, showing a bit of her panties that’s being engulfed by her ass. “-I made you cum a third time?” 

You give her a chuckle since that’s in the ballpark of recurring jokes or cute memories, somewhere along the lines of flirting like an idiot and fucking like rabbits. It’s getting there, the insight at least. 

Sure, have her keep the shirt. It looks good on her. She brought a change of clothes for the night anyway; God knows as to why but you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her around. 

“I’ll take that as a yes with how you’re staring at me still.” She muses a scrunch of her nose that simmers the cutesy, heart-fluttering, babyism sort of act that would make anyone, in particular, flash a look of confusion topped off with a subtle eye roll. 

She grabs your toothbrush and runs it through the faucet. You don’t say anything about that. 

The balls of her feet lift her heels, but she’s not slick with the small arch of her back and leans in towards the mirror. She’s careless, and that’s apparent with how the collarbone sticks out on the right side where the shirt pools. You give her a light laugh when you’re hugging her side, nestle your nose at her temple, patting her head. 

“Do -ou minth?” Gaeul sighs, smiling. “-m tryimph to cean mythelf ere.” The toothbrush hangs at the side of her mouth, minding her own business as you’re pulling a few wisps of her hair past her ear. “Should’ve closed the door on you when I had the chance. Didn’t expect you to be so clingy. You expect me to believe that you can be soft and bubbly when you just shoved your cock down my throat?” 

“Too much?” you ask. “I can dumb it down if you want.” 

She gives you a genuine shake of her head. No. “I don’t mind at all.” She spits out the paste into the sink for a new one, since she’s drooling it out. “It’s cute that you’re like this when it should be the opposite.” 

“Mmm. Bite me if you have a problem with it.” 

Gaeul then sighs when you bury your nose in her hair, rub the side of her waist, because it feels right. Her eyes follow you when you leave her be at the sink, let her spit out some more before brushing. 

–

A girl like Gaeul makes it difficult for you to come to grips with her small, yet lithe frame - how your hands rest neatly on the swell of her ass, fingertips cupping the indent. She’s not making this any better, palming your cock through your pants, or that cheeky smirk once her hand slithers past the elastic and wraps around you like it’s a lifeline. 

You also realize: how light she is, feeling her tits and having a moment of small joy when you manage to get a mouthful of her breast, mouth parting while you’re sucking on her mounds and nipples shamelessly to the point where she has to tug you by the hair to make you stop, grasp at that last bit of control. 

Marking up her chest serves as a viable response to her. 

“Careful now,” she tells you, mewling, head tipped forward - the stimulation quite a lot for her to handle. “A little aggressive, are we? Ah-” 

Like you’re the kind of person to take it easy, anyway. She says your name so prettily; the sensuality over a simple utterance, the breathlessness lying beneath the tone. You’ll fuck and treat her like she’s the only girl in the world and prove it in more ways than one. You’re on the eve of something big here: finding where her limbs and muscles tense, mark up her perfect skin and knock her up like she wants the filthy mess. There’s an unspoken safe word - a prompt or phrase of some kind. If or when she says: “I’m yours,” she tells you, eyes fluttering when you slip your two fingers in, guiding them to the tempo that she wants you to go. 

So she grinds on your fingers and cock whilst making out with you on your bed, eventually fucking her soon after, sheets and pillows tossed and used in the process; you slip some rubber on your cock and cum first before she does, and she’s a bit angry, pouty, coiling her arms and legs around your neck and shoulders until you give her what she wants - the time reads a little past midnight, she’s sprawled on the bed like some happy, sleepy puppy and sighs: “I’m starting to think you can’t handle me. My pussy’s just too good for you to have another round,” laughing as her knee rises and slides her heels along the mattress. 

“Maybe two or three will shut you up, I don’t know.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Gaeul says flatly in lieu of your subtle shrug, “I’m gonna break your cock, just watch me,” and well, you find and realize, she was serious about that; she fucks herself on your hips, determined - and hops off your waist, your front flush with her back, bringing a pillow for her to cling onto. “Something tells me that you’ve been- deprived, I would say. This bed is a little too spacious for us.” 

You laugh with a yawn mixed in. “Yeah, sure.” Gaeul takes the tie you pulled out from her hair and tosses it to the nightstand. “If you want to put it that way, I won’t complain.” 

She scoffs. “Wow. I point out one thing and you’re not even gonna argue against it,” you can picture the quirk of her mouth, a hint of her teeth peeking through into a grin. “For a guy like you to have some experience, that’s not what I expected-” 

“Do you want the polite answer or the truth?” you ask her, leaning more into the cushion while Gaeul tangles a leg between yours. The world around you seems to fade out from your ears, solely making you focus on the present moment, looking at her with a wistful gaze, one filled with contentment and wonder. 

Deprived no more, you’re mentally telling yourself. 

It’s not long after before Gaeul pats your cheek, kisses your jaw before you hear her feet scuff across the floor to your bathroom with nothing on, watching as she checks herself in the mirror, leans into the doorframe, arm raised and stretched up high, locks of her hair spilling from her collarbones and down to her chest, that head tilt to top the silhouette off nicely you’re left in a trance. 

You figure out that this moment, right now, all of the stars aligned at the right time and firmly believe that it’ll stay. 

–

Sometime later, you tell Gaeul that you were holding out for someone like her; someone that took an effort to get because they were simply out of your league - she laughs, half-impressed. 

“Y’know, for you to be figuratively at the altar but still searching,” she murmurs, tapping your chin. “people like you and I can only get so far in life.” 

“People like me and you,” you repeat, the movement between you two isn’t much, but still cautious.

Gaeul drops her eyelids and smiles, a dimple appearing. 

“People. Interesting, enticing,” she breathes. “Enigmatic and those with charisma.” A chuckle hums low in her chest when she looks up with those wistful, doe eyes, “that’s where your type falls, doesn’t it?” 

On the nail, she is - damn she’s good. 

“And where would I be, had I not talked to you that day,” you ask, grinning like an idiot. The space alone is still difficult to interpret, placing your lips on hers and scratch her head while the waves of her coffee-brown locks sift between your fingers. You could feel yourself sinking - sucked into a black hole with no way out, swallowing you up whole. 

“I wonder too,” she echoes your thought. 

You kiss her forehead, give attention to that cute little beauty mark on her cheek. Watch as her gaze softens: a look of love, almost. 

“I’m bad news for you, sadly,” she adds. “Keep me in your life, you’re bound to regret it.” 

–

She wants you so bad, you can’t help but fuck her for the next couple of days. 

Your schedule slowly shifts to Gaeul’s. When the night falls - because there are multiple instances at two in the morning talking about complete nonsense over mac and cheese bowls and slow kissing in the shower with the water falling on both of you that makes her skin a hot blush pink, pressing her into the tile or sink after with your hand or towel in her mouth to keep her quiet - since you learn she likes it that way, letting you feel up the slick curves of her ass and watch the skin ripple to where you see some of the recoil of her tits in the mirror, or even on your office chair facing away from the desktop, Gaeul biting your ear with her knees up to her pits- 

“You like fucking my pussy open with my legs up like this? Hmm?” Gaeul hisses in your ear, voice rasped and torn, sliding her legs back down, tugging hair while you’re filling every inch of her cunt. “Just letting you use me wherever, whenever, however you want-” 

Alright. It’s hard to imagine what you were getting yourself into when Yujin threw a bone to pick at you playing matchmaker - leaving the door open for Gaeul, the girl who waltzed into your life unknowingly, only for her to be the kind of girl that crumbles from your cock being inside her, pumping so full where she’s pulling you into that leaking white slit for another round - but there’s times in the late morning, treating herself another cup of tea, body riddled with hickeys drawn up and discovered by you like a stargazer, her small waist a gift from the heavens above, in your sweatpants where the ends pool over to her toes, leaning down to take your attention away from the screen, grabbing a handful of her tit in place of a hello. 

“What’s that you got there?” Gaeul giggles, hand stacked on yours while you squeeze gently. “That doesn’t look related to the project.” 

She’s half-right. It’s somewhat relevant to the submissions Yujin’s been sending over for you to look at, and the data’s been stagnant; luckily, you’re glad that someone else’s been keeping you accountable for the time being. 

“Well, that's because it isn’t.” you laugh, swiveling your chair a bit so that she can sit on your lap. “This is what the galaxy looked like on your birthday. Gotta say, that does look pretty.” 

Gaeul coos, leaning her head on top of yours. She moves your hand up to her chest, slips her arm out of the sleeve, rucks the shirt on her shoulder. The mix of pale skin and pink bruises, you’re salivating with every lick of your lips - and she leans closer to the screen.

Her eyes widen at the flashes of blue and purple, stares like the picture itself is an art piece, captivated. “Wow, you know what I think?” 

“What is it?” 

“If you’re gonna help discover a galaxy or image like that,” Gaeul tells you, moving her arm around your neck, lightly scratching your hair, “I’d pull your weight with Yujin on this project if I were you.” 

“Really?” you ask her, leaning back so that she can rest her other leg across yours. “I’ve been doing that, but it’s been slow.” 

“Maybe you just have to draw up the connection a little better, then.” 

–

Your groove gets thrown off. Gaeul disrupts the flow which you have no complaint about. You leave your place far later than you intended, and tell Yujin to let you off the hook. The pictures, readings, sketches - the information is a lot to take already. You’re seeing stars. If she’s the sun then you’d be Icarus: flying closer and closer until you get engulfed completely. 

This isn’t simple for you; a little hard to properly explain. The girl just takes and takes and takes. 

You show Gaeul the night sky, have her look through your telescope and tell which stars and planets are seen, painting the image and guiding her to fill that imagination - only for her to say something to make you laugh; next thing you know, she’s got her pretty lips wrapped around your cock, shutting you up with no care right there on the balcony. She keeps batting those lashes at you, fucking her face - hollowed cheekbones too, god. She’s swallowing you whole, hands at your sides, gargling. Putting her hair up in that ponytail. Yeah, you won’t last long. 

The lapping, licking, spitting. She’s savoring the inescapable deepthroat. 

When she licks the upper seam of your balls, you’re pretty sure you saw a new set of stars right then and there. 

“We might need to look at those pictures you have,” you’re telling Yujin on the phone. “I think those from the last look-up. No- I mean, yeah. I was also reading on Rei’s side of the project as well, and what she has is way more substantial than what we were initially working with.” 

“As much as I hate to admit it, her recent stuff has been looking pretty good compared to ours. I’m just glad we found her to work with us in the first place.” Yujin says, laughing. 

“All I’m saying from last time is that if you were this committed to finding someone that can put up with your antics; maybe rough you up and get you all needy and not be as controlling to just live a little, you know? I know that we’re close to finishing this, but I can extend an olive branch for you to reach if you need a guy up your alley.” 

“I’ll hold you to that offer,” replies Yujin, “Hopefully you got a guy in mind that can handle me like how Gaeul is with you.” 

Right, you tell her. Gaeul’s leaned on the frame leading to the kitchen; not tired, sighing when you look over your shoulder to see her hand in her sweats, finger deep up her cunt. The tilt of your head says to keep it down. She bites her lip, continuing what she’s doing. You’ll see why, and be glad that you didn’t jump at the opportunity yet. You look away for a second to notice her sitting right next to you, brushing up your right side, forcing you to switch the phone to the other hand. Watch it. You’re certain that she could hop on your cock right now, and ride you without a care in the world, because why the fuck not? She’s not wearing panties underneath as it is; asking, whining, begging to be bred. 

Shit. 

You really could. 

If you wanted to. 

Like fucking her on the balcony for the world to see would just be another law in your twisted philosophy, breaking a slut like her, leaving the mess of cum all over her body, have her lick it off so sweetly. In a sky full of stars, you’d want to paint that picture somewhere up there too. 

You’re certain that there’s a solace here - one that’s permanently eclipsed with euphoria, certain that it will stay. 

Gaeul’s breathing funnels into your ear as you bite down a smile, grab a handful of her ass and claw greedily at the indent. You could feel her head nod against yours. She’s so fucking needy. 

“I’ll send over the revisions I made,” she pulls back on your lap to see you say. Yujin beams on the other end of the line. “Touch base with Rei also to see if it matches up.” 

Gaeul moves your arm away, pushes your head back with a lip lock. Her hips drop to your growing bulge below. You end the call right away to ensure Yujin doesn’t get caught up in the middle of it, watch as she rips your shirt off from her body. 

–

You hate to admit that you’ve got this dark-twisted fantasy, unwilling to frame that mindset because there was no reason to. She’s so mild-mannered and soft-spoken; wears pretty outfits and dresses waiting for you in the lobby of your building. She’s one messy bun with a hairclip on top away from urging you to snatch her away, Christ almighty. You’ll take away the layers and make mental notes, conceal her away like she’s some comet - write her name into the books that way the whole world knows about her perfection. A girl like her can change what a man thinks, make them say things like I know what you want, don’t give me that look - just for her to stare with that lovestruck look in your eyes. 

If she wasn’t the kind of girl that fell from the sky and onto your lap, syrupy laugh and giggle with those dreamy eyes, you would have a hard time looking through a scope; she’s rattling your brain to the point where you could say one or two things, have her listen dutifully because you know she will. 

Every exploration is a journey into the unknown, and suddenly she could pop a question at any random point in time, like: hey, you don’t need science to make a woman feel good, okay? You can totally fuck me like you mean it.  

But here she’s babbling, heaving. Completely stuffed up on her back with her knees to her chest, brain nothing but mish mash and riding out the pleasure. “Aren’t you a sweet thing,” you groan, “creaming all over my cock-” 

She’s biting down a piece of her shirt, lifted just above her tits, eyes squinched. Her head tilts back, chest up in the air. You’re pressing on the underside of her thighs, pushing her deep into the mattress. The words coming out of her mouth are incoherent, but you’re fucking it out of her: god, oh god, yes, shit, baby, fuck, fuck me- 

“Christ,” you hiss, and move your hands from her thighs to her back, bending the arch more. You’ve done yourself a favor by not railing her on the dining table like last time, gripping her ass, the addicting clench and glide of her folds, begging you to pound and pound and pound until she’s lost the feeling in her legs. 

Everything leading up to this was relatively tame; nothing too serious other than fifteen or twenty minutes of the usual fill-ins of what was done throughout the day, only for Gaeul to flash a look at you and with a grab of her wrist, the rest of the clothes peel away not long after. 

Probably in this universe, there’s nothing left to decipher in the sounds and expressions displayed on Gaeul’s face, small streams of tears falling on her cheeks with every part from the face down riddled in a rosy blush and sweat. You slide your palms up to her chest, rest your thumbs on the underside of her breasts, steadying, plugging your cock up in her tiny cunt and dragging every inch of skin across her walls, clamping hard and soaking no matter how fast and hard you’re giving it to her. Her body’s used to your length, thoroughly fucked that she can’t do anything but feel ruined. 

You see her mouth form an oh shape, some of her hair gets caught on her cheek, glancing you from the corner of her eye before rolling it back to her head- 

“Shhh,” you say, brushing your nose to the side. “Almost there, baby. I’ve got you-” 

Gaeul’s brows furrow together; grinding her teeth, forcing the dragged-out groan down her throat, tears peeking through the seal of her eyelids. She knows that she can’t do anything - besides just taking it like a nice little girl, let this cock pound and wreck her and look gorgeous as you bottom her out. 

“C’mon baby,” you’re huffing, getting one good thrust in while the flesh ripples at your hips, and Gaeul grits out a holy shit but dies down instantaneously, soft, the wail wheezed out in a whisper. Her whole body shakes with another peak, her face flushed with red, saying nothing seconds later. The wetness leaks out of her, coating your cock while holding you true. There’s no objection, only order when you drive your dick back in her cunt. Small threads of her slick forming on your waist, drawing their own set of constellations on her body. 

Her body rebounds upwards on the inhale. 

“Cum,” she tells you, pleading. You could feel her fingers coil your forearm. 

“Condom,” you stutter and fuck. She’s so unhinged - even if it’s just a singular word or simple request. Wringing her out this way was always going to be the result. “Fuck, can’t-” 

Her breath hitches, a cute noise you think. Some of her hair falls on her forehead, eyes lidded. The corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“What?” 

“If you seriously think that I’m gonna cum inside-” 

Gaeul chuckles, twisted into a moan. You can see the gears in her head turning, trying not to get caught up with your cock embedded in her hot cunt still. 

“Not- that.” 

“Not?” 

Her head falls to the mattress. 

“All over me.” Her shoulders slack, hands sliding further up your arm. You let her legs bracket your hips as you grasp at her tit. She doubles down on the command to be sure you heard it the first time. “I wanna feel it.” 

You don’t say anything more when she props herself up on her elbows, watching the sight of your cock slide slowly in and out of her cunt. Slipping the condom off in one swift pull and lick your palm. Gaeul bites on her thumb, smiling at you barely keeping it together. 

“Here is fine.” The way she suggests is dripping in want. Her heaving chest, kiss-bitten lips, tousled hair and sweat and everything in between. “Or maybe,” you see her glossy eyes once more, filled with lust. “Paint my face and get your nice, thick cum all over my fucking lips-” 

You inhale sharply. 

“Watch it,” you hiss. 

“Maybe I won’t,” Gaeul replies, lip between her teeth, challenging. Her hand reaches to your length to keep you second-guessing. The sight of her body; a literal depiction of sin, right in the palms of your hands. 

She grinds your cockhead along her folds, closing her legs slightly. The pressure already sucking you back in. “Sweetie, where- I could just let you lick it off again, grab a towel from the bathroom, that-” 

“You know what I want.” 

You look at her, unsure. But you know what’s about to happen anyway. 

As if she couldn’t give it to you in a different language, she grabs your wrist gently. It’s an easy problem with an easy solution. You can’t argue how pleasant she really is. She doesn’t have to prove more into it, how she’ll be, you could give into that sense of luxury, and you really could. 

So you’re pondering, skeptical. “I told you. You’re insane if you genuinely want me to cum in you. We’re not doing this. No.” 

Gaeul pouts, combined with an eyebrow lift. 

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said that.” She mentioned it the first time, too: “I’d let you cum anywhere you want.” 

A few more passing blinks go by. 

“Why go through all that just to waste your hard work on-” And you’re left surprised that she’s got the strength left to pull herself back up, resting her hips right on top of yours, fingers carding through your hair when she slips you back inside. Inch by inch, you feel her sinking down - slowly. You know that she isn’t stopping in particular, wiggling her ass; a soft implication, teasing. She’s pulling you closer and closer to where you’re seeing eye to eye with her. “Safeguarding a pretty girl like me.” 

In all honesty: it’s in your nature. Gaeul’s simply just being herself. Tender. Beautiful. Fully embracing. You could give her the power to destroy you, and she’d thank you for it. 

She gives you a very hard time thinking, grinding her hips against yours - let yourself get drunk in the raptures since the rubber was starting to become a pain in the ass recently. Gaeul’s cunt siphons out all your thoughts with every single inch of her gripping cunt, speaking listless phrases of praise and wishes that you’re positive to make come true for her. She could ride and pound her pretty pussy all over your cock - orgasm after orgasm after orgasm - until her face is blown out and just flat-out gone. Ease her mind with your dick, since she seems to love it so much. 

To be spoiled, showered and railed in whatever way possible. She just keeps hopping along your cock, bottoming herself out to the point where she’s looking to the ceiling in pure stimulation. 

You ruck your hips forward. Gaeul trembles, sighing in relief, allowing you the reins, lifting her body up and back down on your thighs. Her neck tips down, mouth canted. 

She’s warm and tight - just perfect; so sensitive and responsive after bouncing her cunt on your cock over and over and over- 

You steady yourself, savoring the feeling. 

She wants you to fill her up, to the point where she has to tell you that it’s enough. 

You suck in a breath, slip out a groan, shuddering. “Oh my god-” 

“Good, right?” Gaeul smiles, “Shit-” and you feel her head collapse onto yours, relaxing and riding out the length until her hips mesh with yours. She practically melts on your cock, stretching and tightening all at once, inviting. 

A kiss to her chest is what you give her, trying to keep your mind off her pussy carelessly clinging every inch of your girth; making it simpler for you to nudge your cockhead into the spot that makes her clench and shake; mewling and humming mixed with the moans; soaking your hips till it stains the sheets. 

“Such a slut,” you tell her, maintaining the last bits of coherence you have left, “so careless and needy. I should stop before you do some real damage.” 

Gaeul smirks, looks so admonished you can’t help but stare. “I don’t like that tone of yours.” 

“What tone?” 

She curls a smile before cradling your head. 

“Talking me down, doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“You told me that you didn’t mind.” You lift her hips from the crease, lean forward to swirl your tongue around her nipple. Looking up to see her watch, give a shameless lick on her bud to lay the challenge, pull back with a pop of the lips. “I know you were being polite about it. Call me a good listener.” 

“I might’ve said something different.” 

“Like you beg to differ.” 

“Hush.” 

“Pussy so good for you that you’re at a loss of words? Set your mind right after getting lazy over work?” The arch in her back deepens, gyrating her hips at the hilt to further the connection - your thumbs dig in the crease of her legs. You drag her forward. She moans again. “Shame on you, I should say no the next time-” 

“But you won’t.” 

“No. No. I won’t.” Gaeul huffs into your cheek, sighs once more when you’re kissing her throat. 

You’re fucking her brains into a puddle and somehow you’re still wondering how she can still think straight - ignoring the fact that her body’s split open and folding through on slap of your hips onto the next- 

“I won’t. Not ever.” She mumbles, whimpering. “I- can’t get enough of this dick. I can never get enough of your dick.” 

“Really?” You’re asking acerbically.

She shakes her head, and you give her a nice hot kiss, priming her head at an angle where you both prefer it to be: and she slips her tongue between your lips, groaning and melting on top of your body, pressing her knees to the sides of your thighs and her cunt in this sliding friction across your cock. She’s terrible at keeping secrets, a truth even - trying to convince you otherwise that she doesn’t like when you’re working her so well her face flushes, aching while leaking her endless slick onto your skin. Your mouth, hands, and cock all give her these waves of bliss, hitting the points all at once where her body blooms and she doesn’t know what to do next. 

You slam her ass back on your balls that her hips spazz out, grinding another climax out of her while she screams; a live wire is what she is, purring and gasping once you’ve triggered that reaction. 

“Like that,” she tells you, at this point, her arrogance is fucked out. Then, her lip is between her teeth, puffing out, bites her teeth together: “that’s so fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” and you feel her fingers slither back into your hair, assisting in the lift of her lower half back down - she’s spiraling. “So good for me, love, baby. Oh, baby-” 

She rattles her head when you’re sliding your hips further forward, the press of Gaeul’s knees moving up to the sides of your stomach. “Nuh uh,” she hisses; the angle is too good for her, impaling her from below she can’t breathe at the top, cunt nicely forming around your cock so deep-” 

“Not the love bullshit, no.” Gaeul chuckles, giddy, mouth canvasing your shoulder. Sighing, whispering, swallowing her hums.

You raise and yank her back down. The whine is one part of the whole symphony. 

“Like- love. What the fuck - so soft. God-” 

“Look who’s talking,” you growl. A curse spills from your lips. She’s a fucking waterfall that it’s unbelievable. The tightness alone for the first time would make anybody an instant addict. And you’re bent on the fact that cumming inside Gaeul is your inevitable demise - her walls clamping in increments around your shaft that every slap of skin and swallow of your throat brings you closer. “I’m giving you what you want, no? All you have to do is just take it - like a nice, little, whore-” 

She wheezes, giggling where it gets caught between a coo and a hum of approval.

“-my little cocksleeve, good god-” you hear yourself say, and the bump of Gaeul’s head into yours can hide so much of her flushed cheeks. “So beautiful, ruined for me, my little nymph come to life. You love this cock so much, wanting to be full of cum, lapping it up like a cute puppy-” 

You’re not sure what you’re saying at this point, but Gaeul keeps on laughing, rolling her hips forward and backward. She lifts herself halfway, falls right back in. Exhales. You know what’s coming; what’s about to happen. Her legs lock up, jaw slacked - hung in suspense. She’s breathing where you could see on her shoulders, leans forward with a turn in her ear: 

“My little sex kitten, how bout that?” 

Skeptical, Gaeul sighs; sucking in her stomach while her head turns the other direction, showing some of that fading self-control and common sense. 

“Okay, that’s. Oh-” she tries telling you, shying away. Her hand goes to yours, continuing the motion, sloppily, letting out a lazy grin and bouncing your name off your lips as her body leans back and into your control. “Rushed, I think. Maybe. Not sure- need more- to get used-” 

“Gaeul.” There's no hiding it anymore, you’re too dumbfucked out of your own mind to turn back now. She seethes out another cry, making you tilt your lips to a devilish smile. “Poor thing, so dirty. A naughty little squirrel that can’t get enough of my nut, huh? Look at you, so wet and filthy, making a mess all over the place-” 

Yeah, she broke you. You’ve gotten so twisted because of her - no point in mincing words here. 

“Fuck, okay, please, that’s too much-” 

You can’t stop - you just can’t. Her cunt is so close to squeezing you, numbing your mind until she drains you completely. 

The pace is painstakingly slow, the rise and fall of her hips with every pump inside her, nails clawing your skin away at the bridge of your shoulders. It becomes- too much, the way your cock stuffs her tiny pussy until that edge is finally reached, the heat cranked up way past eleven, the desire to take it written all over her face and body.

“Want it,” she chokes out. Her cunt creates this pocket of air inside where the noise is just utterly wrong. “Please.” 

Her eyes water, fluttering.

“I hear you, darling. I know.” 

“Ah, yes. You-” 

Her head lolls forward, lazily. You wrap your arms around her waist and guide her back onto the sheets, slip yourself out and roll her over until her ass is in view. She peers over her shoulder, watching you mount her thighs, pull her hips up and slide a pillow into the open space created, laying back down and bury your cock back in her creaming cunt, kneading the handful of ass in your palm before testing the depth again. 

You notice her shoulders bunch up to her neck, hands gripping the sheets when you’re leaning back down to her face.

“Fight me,” you whisper down her ear, “if it’s too much.” Gaeul shakes her head at the drag of your shaft, driving back in with a firm thrust that makes her gasp for air - bites down a moan into the blankets beneath her. You’re pinning her into the bed frame so harshly you don’t even care if you break it. 

Her hand shoots back to your arm, grabbing. The slaps of skin pick up in rhythm, maintaining a tempo. You reach out for her hair and lift her head, releasing a few moans before her breaths also start to become more staccatoed- 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t- hhn-” 

You’re having too much fun for your sake. Though, you can’t blame yourself in this situation. This was what Gaeul wanted, and she got it. A second later you’re pressing her head back down into the bedding, bend that arch in her lower back a bit deeper where your cock can carve its way down to the hottest point where she can take it. Her mewling and crying rise in volume and you only have the slap of your hips to hers serving as this undertone to her song. 

“Where,” you sputter, because you know the limit’s about to be reached. “Where do you want me-” 

Gaeul turns her head back; you can’t even see her lips move when she says it: “Inside.” 

So you coil your arms around her waist and flush your chest to her back. “If that’s what my kitty wants.” 

You raise the pace then and there. Fucking her tight little cunt as if you finally created the theory in your head into breaking Gaeul. It doesn’t take much for someone smart to put the pieces together: all you need is a nice hold of her ass, impaling your cock deep where you can take it, sliding in and out of her walls with such precision that you’ll empty every fiber in your body to satisfy both her and yourself. 

You’re experimenting with the position of her body - deep into the mattress, lift her upper half where both deepens the arch of her pussy, nudging your cock where her walls can clinch and clench along the member - working so seamlessly to bring that orgasm to the front. There’s only one thing left to do now: to pound and bounce her ass and cunt all over your cock until you spill all of it inside her open pink hole. You’re gonna drain everything in your balls deep into Gaeul’s cunt until she’s whining from the mixture of tension and shaking, growling so loud that you’ll wake the neighbors on the upper and lower floors. 

The pulsing, shooting rope after rope and after rope of cum inside her. She’s moaning in relief at the feeling while you’re still pooling, head spinning so fast that you’re finally on the same page as her: ruined, and thoroughly fucked. 

“T’so warm,” she mumbles sleepily. “And thick-“ 

The slamming of your hips keeps you conscious. “Gaeul, this cunt, baby, so fucking incredible.” 

An angel falling from the heavens. Would anyone ever believe it if you told the things you did with her? 

When you do slide out of her well-fucked-and-worked-cunt, you can’t help yourself still and slip inside again, coating your cock mixed in with her slick and your cum. You watch when you pull your tip away from her folds, the sheen of white coming out of her slit - the whole image of her backside is a picture-perfect painting right here in your sheets: her puffy pussy lips, the beet red spread across the breadth of her ass, bruises on bruises across the plane of her back, hair in this half and half of a bun and wavy locks. You then run your hand across your length, wipe the mess on the person who created it, and look at her while she rolls on her back with her arms raised. 

You’ll also think about treating her; cleaning her up in the shower; dry her hair, swaddle her in a towel, carry her around your place, clean every spot and cranny - worshiping her curves and mounds until she’s willing to be broken apart and put back together again. A girl made to be ruined, an endless experiment you want to keep forever. 

“See?” She laughs, running a finger along her folds, collecting her reward, licking it off her fingertips before cupping her palm gently along your cock, slowly rubbing you to get a few more drops out of you. Her tongue runs across her lips, almost like she’s gonna drool again and it’s just fucking terrible, but you love it. “Can’t you think the wonders of you breeding my poor, sorry, cunt-” 

Part of you wants to shut her up with your dick. She’s so forward with the intent and doesn't care about the consequences. It’s dangerous. You’re thinking ahead of how she’ll look with the ribbons of cum spread all over her body, on her face, in her hair. Sick and twisted it is, and she cups your sack - gasping at the sudden weight of it still. 

Soon. You need a breather and push yourself away. 

She flails her arms and legs around like some kid throwing a tantrum, groaning. 

But she smiles and shies away; not nervous, but happy. “Fuck me,” she swears where she feels relaxed and unbound by any worry. You bring yourself down to her and try to kiss her cheek, but she turns her head away with her hand pushing your face. 

“Nope,” she tells you, softly laughing, “I don’t think you’ve earned it. Should’ve fucked me harder.” 

This girl is a problem. 

You pinch her cheek and start poking her stomach, the bubbliness coming to life. She can’t stay in one place the more you tap your fingers all over her body. She’s very ticklish. 

“Poor kitty,” you remark, because you notice her smile and tucked lip, watch the butterflies flutter in her stomach, and when you’re patting her thigh she doesn’t bother retaliating, since the idea’s set in her mind that there’s no further objection. 

“Didn’t you say,” she sighs, voice beaming, face pink and clutching her waist. “You like it when I’m like this, making you stupid that way you’ll just pound me at the end of it? Y’know, pinning me into the mattress. Gotta say, the-” 

“Gaeul, please.” She knows that you’re amused, smiling. “Get up. Go shower, you’re dirty.” 

“No no,” she replies, shaking her head. You stare into her eyes while her legs spread, causing you to look down and scrunch your nose. Her head tips back, trails her fingers up her chest, traces around the nipple, some of her hair falls in front. “If you’re the one who made the mess, you should make the effort to clean me up again.” 

You make a note of the upsetting attitude - maybe forward it to Yujin since she knows a little more about Gaeul out of annoyance. 

Yujin didn’t give you the full report, anyway: about how Gaeul’s the kind of girl that functions over good food, drinks, and a proper dicking down without even considering the whirlwind of logistics she’ll mess up. You should’ve seen the signs. You should’ve known who you’re dealing with. 

“What’s wrong?” Gaeul asks, grinning, relaxing her back while you pull her by the thighs, bringing her closer. You thumb her knee, considering. The warning signs are there - just waiting for everything to come apart. 

She gives you an eye smile while you’re rolling yours, guiding your hand up her inner thigh, stopping right at her pussy lips. It’s draining. A headache. You’ll be sleepless in the morning because you can’t admit Gaeul’s the reason for staying up so late. “Only gonna say it once,” you tell her. “Shower comes first.” 

You say, but your body does otherwise, scooching forward where your finger hovers right above her clit. Though you gently press your palm right above her hip, noticing how sweaty she is - or maybe it’s the spread slick from her thighs; you can’t tell, the slide of it has you in disbelief. 

“I think you can give me one more,” Gaeul suggests, rolling on her stomach, forming the arch so tantalizing you force yourself to look away, knees spreading and her feet flush - imploring without really saying anything because you know she won’t stop and there’s nothing you can do about it. Her teeth peek through her cunning smirk, fully pleased. “Forget about putting another condom on, ‘cause like- god. I know you love how my pretty little pussy lips wrap around your cock when you’re cumming in me anyway.” 

It’s a genesis of sorts: the beginning of an unending madness. A world which you cannot escape - nor want to. 

–

Everything is a mess: you, your place, your work with Yujin. Gaeul comes by every other day - except when she’s swamped with schoolwork where she pops the idea of going on a romantic getaway or a staycation, hiding yourself away from the world and fucking her stupid until she’s sleepy. 

Here’s the thing. 

It’s when you’re with friends- or just you and her, wandering around the city, she’s the calmest, reserved girl you’ve ever seen. Much like she puts on a mask or appearance during the day and nobody seems to notice. Her clothes are much in line with yours, and pulling your face for a kiss - well, to milk the moment, you suppose - curling her fingers across your cheek, eyes so full of her that they’re crossing against each other at the press of her forehead with yours. 

There’s something here. You’re certain that it’s already been found. An exploration of these moments and experiences and the gut feeling rest well in your mind. You ponder, maybe it’s meant to be. This was all for fun at some point too. Maybe, also, that might not be the case. 

You deem it too early to say you love her, but the reciprocating kisses she gives you make you think otherwise, every single time, and you give into her little smile. 

If you or her mean it, one of you will say the words eventually. 

–

“So? What are we thinking? You reckon we’ll get it this time?” Yujin says, optimistic. You picture her with her feet propped up on something or in the air, it sounds like it. 

“Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” You answer, “Oh- by the way, Gaeul wanted to come along for the final set of tests. Are you okay with that?” 

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” 

“Awesome.” 

Silence builds up on the line. 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me how she is?” Yujin prods, teasingly with a tone higher than usual. “C’monnnnn, I wanna know-” 

“Why would I? My business with Gaeul is not information to share.” 

“Boooooo.” 

“What?” 

“You and her haven’t given me credit for setting you guys up,” says Yujin. “Some of the details can be left out - for obvious reasons. She’s been telling me good things about you.” 

You smile at that. 

“Okay, to be honest, she’s amazing. I haven’t had an issue with her since our date and well- I don’t need to explain more for you to figure the rest out.” 

“Tell me more later when I see you two, but from what it sounds like, I think you struck your luck out with this one. She’s a real keeper.” 

Seeking out an Andromeda wasn’t on the cards, but you’re happy enough to have it fall right on your lap. 

It’s something special to cherish. 

–

Gaeul watches from a distance, admiring the image of you in your element. 

Yujin looks closely at the screen readings while you’re peering into the telescope, following along to the proper adjustment in getting the coordinates right. There’s a double check - then a triple check - glancing at the image presented. She smiles when you give her a nod of approval, looking back over at Gaeul who stares right back. 

Gaeul appears stoic, but you can tell that she was a little bit nervous for you. If things didn’t go well today, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world, but you know deep down that she wants you to succeed - and you do too. 

“We have something,” you’re telling her when you reach the bottom of the steps, rubbing her elbow for comfort. “Wanna come take a look?” 

She bites her lip, eyes tilting down, and nods. 

You kiss her knuckle and bring her up. 

Minutes later, she’s where you were: through the looking glass while Yujin slides her chair over pointing at the mix of greenish blue in the middle of the vast blackness of space. “Looks new, seems lightyears away from us. Have we finally got it?” 

“Judging from what the professor was telling us, nobody is claiming this one yet.” 

Yujin taps your shoulder before leaving to call up her mentor. 

Gaeul still looks into the scope, smiling when she feels your arms wrap around her waist, laughing softly. 

“It’s beautiful,” she tells you, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

The night sky shines above the observatory, light funneling through the opening as a natural spotlight, illuminating the glow reflected on her perfect skin. You look at her as if you’d turn into stone when you look away. She looks at you like everything just makes sense - a safe place where she can find comfort in, realizing what she said was already made true, but she doesn’t know that. 

“You speak for yourself? Or?” 

She hits your arm, and you’re smiling like an idiot. 

“Do you have a name for it?” Gaeul asks, turning around so that she’s properly facing you. You’re still trying to figure out how she can look so pretty - so effortlessly; it’s something that you’ll dedicate a whole lot of time to study, see if you can find the answer in her eyes, or her body- 

“Not yet,” you answer. “It'll take some time to pick, but- I’m open to recommendations.” 

She nods, quickly flashing her eyes to see if there was anyone within earshot, pensive. “I got nothing so far, but I’m willing to jog your mind if you’re it.” 

“Gaeul,” you say, sternly, grip tightening on her lower back. “What’re you implying, hm?” 

“All I’m saying is that I can be a great help for you in that bathroom downstairs. Unless you want to step outside, get some fresh air - the breeze is so nice up here, and no one will hear me because of the crickets-” 

“Minx,” you’re saying again. She sighs with her mouth parted, working herself right off the bat. “Now’s not the time, you were good for me earlier. Plus, your ass is still sore, I know why you didn’t want to sit down in the first place.” 

Gaeul nicks her head up, lifts her eyebrows. You’re flashing the image in your head of earlier: her being soaked in your cum, mouth swollen and makeup ruined, naked with a pair of cat ears in her hair and wrists handcuffed to the edge of your bed. It’s been a few hours since then, but nothing’s stopping the urge from burning through your pants- 

“Said you did a good job spanking me, did I?” 

“You know my answer.” 

“Touché.” 

You shake your head and press your lips to her crown. Patting her head and rubbing her shoulder while she puts her thumb on her chin, carelessly minding her own business while you’re treating her; mind already tired and with the amount of pictures and papers and telescopes too complicated to listen to in a firm explanation, she’s unbothered. She pats your back twice to make you stop. 

“We’re still grabbing drinks with Yujin after, right?” Gaeul asks, remembering the offer. “Her treat?” 

“She’s a terrible liar,” you chuckle, “The tab’s on me.” 

–

It’s all a process. 

Day by day. The concept of love is not a linear path; getting to know someone and revealing the pieces, building that trust with a significant other, infatuated about the secrets and intricacies that you’ll take to your grave once they’re shared, seen, and spoken. 

You’re up late nights, peering into your bedroom to see her legs tangled around a pillow. On certain days she comes home excited, jumping onto you at the door to times when she’s tired, and you’re piggybacking her inside because that’s what she likes. When she’s with Yujin, she’s normally quiet and laid-back - but with you, she’s all over the place. Telling you these unholy things that you don’t expect her to know when you’re fucking her into the bed; the way her voice sounds when she’s praising you. She goes around like her own little planet, full of wonderful things. She likes vinyls and vintage stuff and prefers to run outside when it’s raining. You let her steal your glasses because she looks better in them. Her smile is infectious. The way that she tousles and turns when you’re kissing every corner of her body and telling her all the things that she wants to hear. You’ve got the backlog filled out.  

Spread her legs apart, have her sit up, ride your face. Break down those fragile walls until she’s completely sucked into your embrace. Gaeul desires a lot of things that you can try to give - the wonders of the world, a bigger picture - something that you’ll pull down from above and have her keep for the sentiment. 

You’ll keep the fact that she’s somebody who wants to be ruined - get chaotic and a tad sadistic. She prefers the punishment over the crime. 

–

Nights like these, it feels like some kind of mistake when Gaeul brings you over to her place. 

There’s nothing bad happening whatsoever, you just feel the knife twist a little more when you can’t go inside because last time Liz and her other roommate caught you and her red-handed on the couch, even after having the assurance that they wouldn’t be home until later. It wouldn’t feel wrong to hug her, kiss her goodbye, knowing that you’ll probably see her around on campus in the afternoon later. 

Gaeul gazes into your eyes earnestly, as if she didn’t want to go back in yet, hoping that you’ll take her away and carry her back to your apartment. A wish she made on a passing star and praying it comes true. With those white thigh highs she’s wearing, you’ll make that dream a reality in a heartbeat. 

“How long have we been friends for again?” She asks, tugging on your jacket, slipping your hands around her hips. She’ll take wherever she can, you know her well. “Hard to believe that we’d be together. You know, like this.” 

“Do I need to remind you who made the first move?” 

“Fuck you.” She slaps your chest as part of the response. “I was trying to have a moment with you. So shut up.” 

“Okay, I will, please continue.” You lift your shoulders in surrender. “For the record, I’d like to take most of the credit, since I asked and all that.” 

Gaeul rolls her eyes to the back of her head. That was her whole plan from the start - had you not said anything to her, she wouldn’t be here taunting you; while being so quiet and pretty that it’s hard to combine the two. 

“Depends on who asks,” she begins. Her cheeks rise, veneers highlighted. She throws everything out in your head with ease - one hint or subtle suggestion and the common thoughts get brushed aside. That’s a you problem. More so of a bigger problem compared to hers. She can read your expressions like a book. 

So you say: “Are you asking?” 

You keep looking at her, like you did back in the museum, wondering all of the pretty little things that differentiate her from the rest; her side profile, the bunny-heart-shaped-ears, how her lips purse together almost like a pout; it’s like you’re seeing some cosmic pareidolia. Kind of like putting fragments together from your dream. 

Gaeul tilts her head, pondering. “If you are, then I’d agree with what you’re saying,” she tells you, kissing your cheek and stepping inside her apartment.

[kirammanswifey]

Would you be down to write some reverse comfort with the Arcane characters?

Basically just make them go through one of the worst days of their lives then have the reader take care of them (I mostly just wanted to see Viktor in this scenario, but if you want to write for other characters too that'd be awesome)

Either way take your time and I hope you have a wonderful day ~☁️

arcane characters reverse comfort x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i'm always down for this kind of scenarios, make me feel like a teenage girl again. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

It has been an exhausting day in the lab. The experiments have failed time and again, each mistake weighing heavier on Viktor’s shoulders. You can see it in his eyes when he finally gives in, letting the tools fall with a long, heavy sigh. He leans against the workbench, his slender, hunched figure casting a shadow of defeat on the walls illuminated by the flickering equipment.

"This doesn't make sense..." he murmurs, as though the words are a burden he needs to release. His fingers drum frustratedly on the metallic surface, and you feel the despair in every tap. "I’ve made mistake after mistake... Maybe this was all a mistake from the start."

His words hit you, but it’s the tone of his voice that wounds you more, filled with a self-criticism that is painfully familiar but no less difficult to hear. You know how much his work matters to him, how much of himself he has poured into these projects. And you know this failure consumes him more than he’s willing to admit. You can't just stand by and watch him spiral.

"Viktor," you say softly, stepping closer and placing a firm yet comforting hand on his arm. "You’re a genius, and even geniuses have tough days. Today was one of those days, but it doesn’t define who you are or what you do."

At first, he doesn’t respond. His gaze is lost, searching for answers in the shadows that stretch across the lab. But then his grey eyes meet yours, filled with doubt and exhaustion. "How can you be so sure? Every day without progress... I feel like I’m wasting time, like I’m failing everyone, even myself."

Your heart tightens at his words. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers gently, feeling the coolness of his skin against yours. "Because I know you, Viktor. I’ve seen your dedication, your passion. Every mistake, every small setback is part of the process. You don't have to carry this weight alone. I’m here to help you shoulder it."

The silence that follows is thick, but instead of uncomfortable, it’s a space where words aren’t necessary. Slowly, you see his posture relax, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. Without letting go of his hand, you step even closer, sensing the fragility of the moment.

"Let’s step outside for a bit," you whisper, "You need to clear your mind, get some fresh air. You don’t have to do it all today, not tonight."

He looks at you again, with a mix of gratitude and weariness, and finally nods. "Alright," he says softly, as if it’s hard for him to admit he needs the break.

You walk together to the exit, your fingers still entwined with his. The night air is a balm, cool and light, carrying away some of the day's heaviness. You walk in silence through the almost deserted streets, the distant hum of the city a constant murmur.

"Thank you," he finally whispers, breaking the silence with a voice soft, almost breaking. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

You stop, turning to face him. "You don’t have to know, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, through the good and the bad days. You don’t have to bear this burden alone."

He tilts his head, and for a moment it seems like he’s about to say more, but instead, he simply squeezes your hand tighter, a silent gesture that speaks volumes.

"Come here," you say, leading him to a nearby bench. You sit beside him, and for the first time all night, you see him take a deep breath, as if the fresh air could cleanse not just his lungs but also his mind and soul.

Viktor rests his head on your shoulder, allowing himself to close his eyes and savor the moment. You kiss his head and gently stroke his hair, cherishing these rare moments, knowing how precious they are when they happen.

"Today was a bad day," he finally says, his voice tinged with a quiet melancholy. "But, for some reason, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming with… with you here."

You smile softly, feeling warmth spread from his acceptance, from his openness. "I’ll always be here to remind you that even the worst days come to an end. And that you are stronger than you think."

He looks at you, and for an instant, the world seems to stop. His gaze, filled with gratitude and something deeper, envelops you. Before you can say anything more, you feel him leaning towards you, and in that moment, everything falls into place. His lips brush against yours with a tenderness that disarms you, a kiss soft yet laden with unspoken emotions.

When you part, just inches away, his eyes remain closed as if he wants to hold onto the moment a little longer. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

You cradle his face in your hands, gently caressing his cheeks. "There’s no need to thank me, my love."

Jinx

The day had been chaos, even by Jinx's standards. Everything had gone wrong: a botched attack, crumbling plans, and to top it all off, an unexpected explosion that almost trapped her in her own trap. Now, she sat in her lair, surrounded by the wreckage of her shattered inventions, her breath short and pulse racing. Her mind, always a whirlwind, now felt like a hurricane of uncontrollable voices and thoughts.

The laughter of her imaginary "friends" echoed in her head, growing louder, mocking her. "Failed again, Jinx. You always fail." She pressed her hands against her temples, squeezing as if she could silence the voices. But the laughter wouldn’t stop, and the crushing weight of loneliness and failure bore down on her.

You approached cautiously, knowing that Jinx in this state was a minefield. But you also knew you couldn’t leave her alone in her internal storm. "Jinx," you called softly, keeping your voice low and calm. "I’m here, sweets."

She didn’t respond at first, her body tense like a spring about to snap. But as you drew closer, her bright blue eyes, wide and wild, met yours with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why? Why do you keep coming back? Don’t you get it? I don’t need anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this."

"I’m not here to judge you," you replied gently, sitting down next to her without encroaching too much on her space. "I’m here because I care. Because I know that sometimes, even the strongest people need a breather. And there’s nothing wrong with that."

She let out a bitter laugh, dripping with sarcasm. "A breather? You think I can just... breathe and everything will be fine? That’s not how my head works. It’s... broken. Everything’s broken."

Your eyes softened at the pain in her words, the self-loathing and anger intertwining dangerously. Without much thought, you reached out, lightly touching her hand, hoping the physical contact might ground her somehow.

"Maybe you can’t fix everything right away," you said softly, "but at least you’re not alone in this boat. I’m on board with you, and I’m not getting off, even if we hit an iceberg." You joked to lighten the tense atmosphere.

She looked at your hand on hers, and for a moment, it seemed like she would pull away. But instead, her trembling fingers closed around yours, with a grip that betrayed just how desperately she needed something—someone—to understand her.

"Why do you care?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m a mess. Everything I touch... I ruin."

"Because you’re more than your mistakes," you said, squeezing her hand gently. "You’re strong, creative, and even if the world doesn’t understand you, I want to be here for you, to help you see that, even when everything gets tough."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice breaking as she murmured, "I don’t know if I can do it... but thank you... for not giving up on me."

You smiled softly, leaning closer to her. "I’ll never give up on you. And you know what? Let’s make a deal. Today was a bad day, but just for today, we’ll do whatever you want. How about we start with some ice cream?"

Her eyes lit up slightly, though there was still a shadow of doubt in her expression. "Ice cream? Really?"

"Serious business," you said, smiling a little more. "Pick your favorite flavor. We’ll go get it, and then we can do whatever you want. You can draw, launch rockets, blow things up—whatever makes you feel better."

"Can I dye your hair blue?" she asked, her tone teasing but her eyes hopeful.

"Anything but that," you corrected, not quite understanding her obsession with wanting to dye your hair.

She burst out laughing, pressing a hard kiss to your cheek. "Just kidding, hon. I love everything about you, even your boring dark hair."

"Hey!" you playfully patted her shoulder.

Suddenly, her smile faded again, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

"But what if everything keeps going wrong?"

"Then I’ll be here to pick up the pieces with you," you said, gently stroking her hand. "You’re not alone, sweets. Not today, not any day."

She launched herself into your arms, hugging you tightly, her body trembling slightly. "Thank you..." she whispered against your neck, clinging to you as if you were her anchor in a storm. And in that moment, you knew the only thing that mattered was her feeling your presence, your unwavering support.

Vi

Vi’s mind was still trapped in the ring, replaying the final moments of that crucial fight. She had bet everything on it—her money, her pride, her reputation. Everything hung by a thread, and she had lost. The cheers had faded, leaving only the echo of failure resonating in her head.

She limped back to her hideout, her knuckles bloodied and her jaw clenched. Dropping onto the worn-out sofa, she let out a frustrated growl, covering her face with a hand as she tried to contain the fury and humiliation. She had risked so much, and now it was all gone.

The whispers of her defeat spread like wildfire. You knew Vi wasn’t one to admit defeat easily, nor to ask for help. So, with a heart full of concern, you went to find her, worried about her state.

The door creaked open as you stepped inside. "Vi," you called gently, finding her on the couch, shoulders tense and gaze fixed on the floor. You approached cautiously and sat on the floor in front of her, your chin resting on your hands as you looked at her intently. "Are you okay?"

"I don’t need your pity," she snapped, her voice sharp but laced with vulnerability. "I’m fine. Just... need a moment."

"Vi," you said softly, "it’s just one loss. You’re incredible in the ring, babe, but you can’t expect to win every time. Besides, we learn more from our mistakes than from our victories. It’s okay."

"No, it’s not okay," she shot back, finally lifting her head to meet your gaze, her blue eyes filled with frustration. "I bet everything on that fight. Everything. And now I have nothing."

"That’s why I’m here," you responded, sitting beside her and gently taking her bloodied hand in yours, inspecting it with care. "You don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help you."

"I don’t want your help," she protested, trying to pull her hand away, but you held on firmly. "I don’t need saving. I can handle this."

"Vi, don’t be stubborn," you chided, your voice firm yet warm. "I care about you, and I’m not going to stand by while you drown over something we can fix together."

Her gaze softened, a mix of wounded pride and unspoken gratitude in her eyes. "I can’t take your money," she muttered, looking down again. "It’s not fair to you."

"Babe, if the roles were reversed, I know you’d do the same for me," you reminded her. "This isn’t about fairness or debt. It’s about caring for someone I love."

The last word hung in the air, making Vi look up again. "You... love me?" she whispered, as if it was something she hadn’t allowed herself to hear before.

"Love you? I’m crazy about you, woman!" you admitted with a chuckle, gently squeezing her hand. "And because of that, I’m going to help you through this. Take the money, just this once. It’s not weakness to accept help, Vi. It’s strength to know when you need someone."

She let out a deep sigh, her body relaxing slightly as the tension began to ease. "Alright," she murmured finally, her voice barely a whisper. "I’ll take your help... just this once."

"That’s all I needed to hear," you said, smiling softly as you caressed her hand. "We’ll get through this, together."

Vi looked at you, and for the first time that night, a faint smile curved her lips. "Thank you," she said, leaning toward you. Her hand suddenly slid to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze.

You looked at her, a mix of confusion and amusement on your face. She just shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What? It’s my way of saying thanks," Vi defended, following it up with a loud slap.

Laughing, you climbed onto her lap, leaning in close to her mouth, "Well, if I’d known your gratitude was this charming, I’d hope for favors more often."

Vi leaned in and kissed you, a tender kiss that spoke of gratitude and something deeper, needing no words. "I love you," she murmured against your lips.

"And I love you," you whispered, your lips still brushing hers.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn's office was silent, the only sound breaking the stillness was the soft scratch of her pencil against paper as she reviewed the reports that had come in. It had been a particularly difficult day for her. The weight of the decisions she'd had to make hung heavily on her shoulders, and her mind couldn't stop replaying the latest case she had been handling. Even though she tried to maintain her composure, you knew Caitlyn wasn't invincible.

You approached cautiously, gently tapping on the door before stepping inside. "Cait," you called softly, seeing her immersed in her work, her eyes glued to the desk, but her rigid posture betrayed her exhaustion.

She looked up and forced a smile. "Don’t worry, everything’s under control," she said, her voice slightly tenser than usual.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched her with concern. "I know you're working hard, Cait, but this isn’t just about work, is it?"

She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as if fighting herself not to admit what was clearly troubling her. "It’s nothing. Just... tough cases. Nothing you need to worry about."

You knew her too well. Something wasn’t right. Caitlyn always maintained her facade of strength, never showing vulnerability, but you knew even she had limits. You decided to step closer, gently removing the papers from her hands and sitting on her desk, right in front of her, catching her off guard. Her hands instinctively found your thighs, her fingers pressing into your skin as a silent sign of her pent-up stress.

"You're not doing this alone tonight, Cait," you told her firmly. "I know you feel the pressure, but you don’t have to carry it all by yourself."

She tried to smile, but the gesture only highlighted her fatigue. "I can't afford to show weakness. Everyone expects me to have the answers."

"That’s precisely what makes you human," you replied softly, cradling her face and appreciating her delicate features. "The burden of leadership, the tough decisions... it can’t all rest on you. If you need a break, you’ll take one. If you need to talk, I’m here."

Caitlyn remained silent, her gaze now locked onto yours, as if considering your words for the first time. You could see her defenses slowly crumbling, her breathing easing into a calmer rhythm. "Sometimes I feel like no one understands... how hard it is to keep everything together, always being the one expected to know what to do."

"I understand," you said, gently holding the hand that gripped your thigh. "And you don’t always have to have all the answers, Cait. It’s okay to feel lost. You can lean on me for these things and anything else."

She didn’t speak for a long moment, simply watching you, and for once, her face displayed a vulnerability she rarely showed. Finally, she sighed, letting the tension in her face melt away.

"I know," she murmured, almost as a confession. "Sometimes it’s just hard not to feel like a burden."

"You’re never a burden to me," you assured her, leaning in and wrapping your arms around her, your fingers tenderly running through her hair. She responded with a soft sigh of relief. "You’re the strongest person I know, Cait. And that strength doesn’t make you invulnerable. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You carry so much responsibility and expectation, and you handle it as best you can. You can share that with me too, love. I’m not in your life just to enjoy your company and admire your beautiful face."

With an intense gaze, Caitlyn gently squeezed your hand, displaying a rare tenderness. "Thank you," she whispered, her tone much softer than usual. "Thank you for this. For always being there when I need it. For knowing what I need when I don’t even know myself."

You moved a little closer and, without thinking, kissed her forehead, a warm and comforting gesture. "I’ll always be here, Cait. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to rest in your presence. And although the day's worries wouldn't vanish immediately, there was something about that small gesture, that silent connection between you two, that made her feel less alone. She knew that, no matter what, she would always have a refuge in you.

Jayce

The door creaked open, and instantly, the tension that Jayce carried with him filled the room like an unwelcome guest. He stood in the doorway, his figure worn down as if each step of his day had chipped away at his strength. His face was a canvas of frustration and exhaustion, the lines of weariness on his forehead barely hidden by his tousled hair. The warm light of home contrasted sharply with the cold night air, but even the comforting ambiance seemed powerless against the heavy burden he bore.

Without a word, you moved towards him, your presence a sanctuary in the storm he was weathering. You gently took his cold hands in yours and led him to the couch, where he sank down with a deep, weary sigh. The weight of the day clung to him, a cloak of responsibility and fatigue. He barely acknowledged you as you spoke.

"Rough day?" Your voice was gentle, laced with concern.

Jayce exhaled sharply, his exhaustion evident as he turned his head to you. "More than you can imagine." His tone was rough, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Viktor and I... the experiment in the lab was a disaster. Then, the Council meeting... a complete mess. I’m not even sure how I made it back here tonight." His voice cracked for a moment, followed by a bitter laugh. "And tomorrow? I have to give that damned speech to the entire city. I haven’t even started writing it."

The air felt thick, laden with everything he couldn't put into words. You squeezed his hand, holding it with a tenderness that cut through the fog of his mind. "Breathe, Jayce. You don’t have to solve everything at once. One step at a time."

Instinctively, you sat behind him, guiding him until his back rested against your chest. You began to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly seep from his muscles. Each movement of your fingers seemed to ease his burdens, though his sighs suggested the thoughts still swirled in his mind.

"I’ll help you with the speech," you offered softly. "We’ll write it together. You don’t have to face it all alone."

Jayce closed his eyes briefly, as if clinging to your words to prevent drowning in his thoughts. "But... it all depends on me. If I screw this up, the consequences are massive. I can’t afford to fail." His voice broke, and he sat up abruptly, anxiety gripping him once more.

"It’s just a speech, Jayce. It doesn’t define you." You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him from behind. "What matters most to me is that it doesn’t destroy you. The city needs you, yes. But you need yourself too."

A long sigh escaped his chest, a release of some of the weight he'd been carrying. "How do you stay so calm through all of this? How do you have the patience to listen to my problems over and over?" His tone softened, a realization of what your presence meant to him.

"Because I love you, you big lug. And because I respect you," you said without hesitation. "Now... first things first. Dinner. I made your favorite." You whispered in his ear, the warmth of your embrace surrounding him, offering a sliver of peace. "Then, I’ll draw you a bath. You need to relax, to stop thinking about everything for a while. We’ll have dinner together, and afterward, we’ll stay up as long as you need. I’ll help with the speech. And if you need to rehearse all night, we will. The important thing is you’re not facing it alone. I’m here, Jayce, because I know how much this means to you."

Jayce let the silence hang for a moment, absorbing your words, your support the anchor he desperately needed. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his face finally showing signs of easing. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, a small pout forming on his lips.

"Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my spoiled giant baby," you teased with a soft laugh, cupping his face with care.

Jayce chuckled, a low, grateful sound that was music to your ears, and you hugged him tighter, feeling the anxiety that had gripped him start to dissipate. "Can we stay like this a little longer?" he asked quietly, his tone vulnerable, more human than ever.

"Of course, love," you whispered. "There’s no rush tonight."

And there, between tender laughs and promises of unwavering support, time seemed to pause. In that moment, there was only the two of you, the warmth of home, and the certainty that, no matter what the next day brought, you would face it together.

Ekko

The sound of gears grinding and tools sparking filled Ekko's workshop, a familiar symphony that usually brought him a sense of calm. But today, the rhythm was frantic, almost as if he believed that focusing on the intricate mechanical details could help him outrun the weight pressing down on his heart. It wasn’t working.

"Ekko, what’s wrong?" Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the tension hanging thick in the air. You could sense something was off, not just from the hurried way he moved but from the pallor that had taken over his face in the past few hours.

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers continued their precise dance over the wires and components, but there was a distant look in his eyes, a clear sign that his mind was far from the task at hand. Finally, he looked up, and though he tried to hide it, you could see the frustration and pain etched into his features.

"Things are... out of control," he admitted, his voice heavy. "The people of Zaun keep dying, and we can’t do anything about it. The illnesses are spreading, the air is becoming unbreathable, and the solutions... they seem further away than ever. How am I supposed to lead them when I have nothing to offer?"

His question lingered in the air, a cry of desperation in the stillness. Ekko had borne the weight of leading the Firelights since their inception. It was his strength, his refuge, yet also his greatest burden. Every day, he witnessed more of his people falling victim to the oppression and the harsh realities of Zaun, the toxic air swallowing those he cared about, and the seeming futility of their efforts gnawed at his resolve. What could one do when everything seemed stacked against them?

"Ekko," you approached him, gently taking his hands in yours. "Listen to me. I know what you're thinking. I know it feels like everything is collapsing, like there’s no way out. But you're not alone in this. You have the Firelights, and you have me. Caitlyn Kiramman might be able to help with this problem."

Ekko raised an eyebrow, confused. He knew Caitlyn, as an Enforcer, symbolized the oppressive system that had kept Zaun in misery, but he also knew you didn’t speak lightly. You must have had a plan.

"I don’t trust Piltover," Ekko muttered, his tone firm. "Or their damn Enforcers. How am I supposed to ask someone like Caitlyn for help? After everything they’ve done to us?"

"I know," you said, gently stroking his hands to calm him, "but hear me out. You're not just asking Caitlyn for help. You’re asking the person who owes me a few favors. Trust me. I think we can secure some supplies, maybe some of the medicines we need, at least to keep us going for a while. Something to help the Firelights keep fighting. Don’t see it as surrendering, Ekko; it’s a step towards giving us a real chance to make our voices heard."

For a moment, Ekko stared at the ground, lost in thought. It was clear he struggled to trust anyone outside his circle, especially someone like Caitlyn, who embodied Piltover’s oppressive power. But your words resonated with him, and for the first time that day, something inside him eased slightly.

"Maybe you’re right," he finally said, his voice low, as if only partially convinced. "But this... it can’t just be words. We need to do something real, something that actually makes a difference."

"We will," you assured him with a soft smile, trying to instill a bit of hope. "Together, step by step. Let’s start by talking to Caitlyn and see what we can secure. I don’t know how, but I believe we’ll make it happen."

Ekko looked at you, and for a moment, everything in his expression changed. The usual anger gave way to a mixture of gratitude and, perhaps, a hint of relief. He was exhausted, but the idea that not everything was lost gave him a tiny spark of hope.

"Thank you, babe," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "I don’t know how you do it. You always know what to say."

"That’s because I’ve learned how to deal with your stubborn, grumpy self," you said with a light laugh. "Now, how about we take a stroll through the city? Maybe a few hours of disconnecting will help."

A trace of a smile appeared on his face, though still tinged with fatigue. "What? Are you planning to make me forget all this by tagging the walls with graffiti?"

"Exactly," you responded with a mischievous grin. "That way, at least for a while, we can forget the world and do whatever we want."

Ekko finally gave in, his soft laugh filling the air as he grabbed his hoverboard. "You know, that sounds like a great idea. Let’s go before I change my mind."

And as you wandered the streets of Zaun, the weight on his shoulders didn’t entirely vanish, but for a while, Ekko could relax, paint his frustrations on the walls, and most importantly, remember that he wasn’t alone. Sometimes, all it took was stepping back and breathing, even if just for a moment.

Silco

The air in Silco's office was heavy, thick with the unmistakable scent of Zaun: metal, sweat, and burnt chemicals. Yet beyond those familiar odors, the room was saturated with the tension of recent events. The sting of failure clung to him, unsettling the usually composed mastermind. His meticulously laid plans had unraveled, and while his followers proclaimed loyalty, cracks in their devotion were becoming apparent. Zaun teetered on the brink of internal rebellion. The Firelights, the Enforcers, even the streets themselves seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

But what truly unsettled him, what gnawed at his very core, was the ever-present specter of betrayal, the fear of losing those who mattered most. In these moments, when chaos felt imminent, you chose to enter.

Silco stood with his back to you, staring out at the city’s dim lights through the window. You could sense the disquiet within him. His silhouette was somber, almost ghostly, with one hand resting on the glass. He seemed like a man who had lost faith in everything around him. Without hesitation, you approached him with a calmness that contrasted starkly with the storm raging within him.

"Silco," you began, your voice gentle but resolute. You refused to let his fragility consume him, not now. "We've faced this before. You don’t have to bear it all alone."

At first, he remained silent. The tension in his frame was palpable, and you could tell he was fighting a battle he wasn’t ready to share. Yet, you knew that struggle all too well. Beneath his layers of hatred and ambition lay a man as broken and vulnerable as any other.

Finally, he turned toward you, his eyes, usually burning with disdain, now dulled. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice low, roughened by a restrained fury. "This isn’t like before. It’s not just about winning anymore. It’s about maintaining control, about not losing everything. If I fail now, all we’ve built will be for nothing. What’s looming isn’t just a challenge—it’s war, and I need to be ready."

You stepped closer, studying the exhaustion etched into his face. His words were a glimpse into the turmoil that consumed him. "You will be ready. We will be ready. But isolating yourself in this downward spiral won’t help."

Silco’s gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, vulnerability surfaced. He appeared more human, less the monster Zaun feared. But his pride fought to keep that part of him hidden.

"I don’t need your pity," he said, though his words lacked conviction, a feeble defense against the truth you were unveiling. "Spare me the empty reassurances."

"They’re not empty," you replied, your voice steady. "I know what you’re feeling. This isn’t just about controlling Zaun. This is about you."

A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken truths. Silco’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in contemplation. "It’s a war I can’t win. The city hates me, even my own daughter—"

"Don’t speak of her as if you’re some monster," you interrupted gently but firmly. "Jinx needs you, and you need her. This war isn’t just against Piltover, Silco. It’s against yourself. And if you keep fighting it alone, you will lose."

The room was still, the weight of your words settling in the air. Silco’s expression softened, touched by a realization he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t accustomed to being seen so clearly, to having his inner battles laid bare.

You took another step forward and, without allowing him time to withdraw, you took his hand. "You don’t have to do this alone," you whispered. "Not now, not ever."

For a brief moment, conflict flickered across his features, but then it happened—he relented. It wasn’t the surrender of a defeated man but of someone willing to trust, if only for a moment, that there was more to life than his solitary fight.

"I don’t know why you persist in keeping me upright," he murmured, his voice softer, laced with weariness. "Sometimes… sometimes it feels like too much."

"It’s not," you assured him without hesitation. "We’ll face it together. I won’t let you fall."

Silco said nothing more, but he didn’t pull away as you held his hand more firmly, a silent acceptance of your comfort. And for the first time in a long while, the cold steel of his demeanor cracked, if only for a fleeting second.

Mel

Mel's balcony was as sleek and cold, a testament to her meticulous nature. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light over the cityscape, illuminating the endless sea of Piltover's lights below. Yet, amidst the serenity of the night, an unseen storm brewed within her. Tonight, her mind wasn't consumed with political maneuvers or strategic plans. Something far deeper gnawed at her: the weight of her ambitions had begun to manifest in ways she hadn't anticipated, threatening to fracture the carefully constructed facade of her life.

She stood by the railing, gazing out at the city that never slept, as if the twinkling lights could somehow chase away the growing void in her heart. You could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers gripped the railing a little too tightly. She was a picture of composed authority, yet the subtle cracks in her armor betrayed the turmoil within.

"Mel..." Your voice, soft yet firm, broke the silence. You approached from behind, your footsteps light but deliberate. You didn't need to be loud; she had always been attuned to your presence, as if you existed in a part of her consciousness she couldn't ignore.

Mel turned slowly, her face a mask of unyielding calm, but her eyes... her eyes told a different story. They held a flicker of vulnerability, a silent plea she wasn't ready to voice. "What is it?" Her voice was cool, almost detached, but you knew better. The detachment was a shield, one she had crafted over years of political warfare.

"What’s wrong?" you asked again, your gaze unwavering as you closed the distance between you. You could sense her struggle, her reluctance to admit that something was amiss. "I can see it, Mel. You're not okay."

She sighed—a sound so heavy it seemed to carry the weight of the city. It wasn't frustration; it was the exhaustion of someone who had carried too much for too long. "It’s Piltover. My role in the Council... I can't keep up with it all," she admitted, her words slow, measured, as if each one was a reluctant confession. "I’ve been playing this game for so long, but the pieces are moving in directions I can’t control. And..."

Her voice faltered, and she didn't need to continue. You understood. This wasn't about Piltover alone. It was about her, about the toll her ambitions had taken on her soul. Here, on this balcony, she wasn't the indomitable Mel Medarda. She was a woman, weary and yearning for something she couldn't quite name.

"Mel, not everything needs to be under control. Not everything needs to be perfect," you said gently, stepping closer. "You can handle what’s happening in Piltover, but you don’t have to carry it all on your own."

Her eyes darted away, as if looking at you would make her break. She was so used to being the one in control, to bearing the burdens without complaint. "And if I fail... what then? What’s left after all of this? I've given everything to Piltover… everything."

Her voice trembled with a sadness that cut through you. Despite her steely exterior, you knew there was a part of her that longed for something more—connection, peace, perhaps even love. But the world she had built around herself left little room for such indulgences.

"If you fail, Mel, you’ll have the chance to start over. You don’t have to keep fighting for something that's slipping through your fingers," you said, your voice steady as you reached for her. "Sometimes, letting go of what we fear losing the most is what sets us free."

Mel's eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a vulnerability she rarely showed. She wasn’t used to conversations like this, to empathy. But in your gaze, she found something she hadn’t seen in a long time: safety, support, and perhaps... the promise of something different. Something better.

"I know it’s not easy," you continued, your hand gently brushing her arm. "But you don’t have to carry the weight of Piltover alone. You have people who respect you, who admire you. There are other ways to move forward without losing yourself in the process."

The silence that followed was thick, but not oppressive. It was as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for her response. For a moment, Mel said nothing. Then, her lips, always so carefully set in lines of authority, softened. "And if I fail… what happens to you?"

"You won’t fail," you said with a conviction that only you could have. "But even if you did, I’d be right here, helping you rebuild. Because what really matters isn’t the power or the control. What really matters is you, Mel."

For a second, she looked at you as if seeing you for the first time. The iron-willed woman everyone knew, the strategist, the leader, was now gazing at you with a newfound sense of recognition. And in that moment, she allowed herself a rare indulgence: she let her guard down.

"Maybe... maybe it’s not always about winning," she murmured, more to herself than to you. "Maybe you're right."

You smiled softly, knowing that Mel had just taken a step towards something beyond ambition—towards her humanity.

Sevika

The night had fallen with an oppressive stillness, but Sevika couldn’t find peace. The hours had dragged her into a whirlwind of stress and frustration. Each minute felt heavier than the last, and the air around her seemed thick, as if the city itself was pressing down on her chest. The decisions she had to make, the moves she had to plan, the constant need to watch over and protect her people… all of it had left her exhausted. But what weighed her down the most was the lack of control over her own life.

The shadows of the streets seemed to stretch out, enveloping her with an invisible pressure. Silco, as if things weren’t bad enough, was more erratic than ever, his paranoia brushing the edges of madness. To top it off, Jinx had played one of her twisted jokes: locking her in a room with a bomb that looked ready to explode. Sevika had been on the brink of death, only to discover that the bomb was a cruel joke, the kind only Jinx could conjure. If she had the time, she would have made sure the girl paid for it. She despised feeling vulnerable. But there was more. She had to deal with some of Silco’s men, and her day culminated with a direct punch to the face, leaving a visible mark on her otherwise stoic features.

On any other day, Sevika might have sought solace or at least retreated into the quiet of solitude, but today was different. No matter what she did, the sense of losing control gnawed at her insides. She needed to see you. She needed your presence, your calm way of looking at her and making her feel that everything, even if just for a while, would be okay.

Finally, the door creaked open. The sound of your footsteps was a balm to her weary spirit, and Sevika lifted her gaze. The damp night air lent a melancholic intensity to her eyes, now etched with fatigue and disdain. Though she tried to maintain her tough exterior, you quickly noticed the bruise marking her face.

“What happened?” Your voice, soft yet filled with concern, echoed in the room. Sevika tried to muster a smile, but it was futile.

“Just another day, you know?” she rasped, moving to lean against the table. She wasn’t about to crumble in front of you, but the exasperation in her tone was unmistakable. “Silco’s paranoid as ever. Jinx pulled one of her idiotic pranks… locked me in a room with a fake bomb about to explode. I thought I’d die there, amidst confetti and laughter. And if that wasn’t enough, one of Silco’s guys managed to land a punch on me.”

Your gaze, laced with worry and tenderness, softened instantly. You stepped forward, cupping her face gently, trying to ease the storm swirling inside her. Sevika stood still, unresponsive at first, but the hard lines of her face began to relax, even if only slightly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” you asked, your eyes never leaving hers, your words carrying a silent concern. You knew she hated appearing weak, but it didn’t matter; you would never see her that way. Sevika closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh.

“You know I don’t like to worry you.” Her tone was sharp, but softer than before. She could feel how your warmth affected her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit, but needed more than she was willing to acknowledge.

Without missing a beat, you acted. With a small smile, you stepped back a little, creating some space to prepare something that might bring her some comfort.

“Tonight, I’m making something special for my strong and sexy warrior,” you said, a mix of tenderness and teasing in your voice. “It’s not much, but I know you’ll like it.” You headed to the kitchen, and instead of a typical meal, you decided on something you knew would make Sevika smile: a homemade chocolate cupcake, with a hint of vanilla and a soft cream topping. While the sweet treat took shape, you thought about how this small gesture might lighten the night. The smell of freshly baked chocolate began to fill the air.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a slight smile. “A cupcake?” she asked, almost playfully, though her voice held a softness rarely heard. “Am I a child needing comfort now?”

“Maybe,” you replied, smiling as you set the table. “Sometimes we all need something simple and sweet.” You playfully tapped her nose.

With the cupcake served and a cup of aromatic tea, the two of you sat together, letting the calm settle for a moment. As she savored the cupcake, your fingers brushed hers gently, as if that simple touch could convey something deeper. Sevika’s gaze, usually so hard and closed off, softened as it met yours.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost with a humility that was unlike her. “I needed this more than I thought.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said with a gentle smile, intertwining your fingers with hers.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter what was happening in the outside world. For an instant, everything else faded away. Only that small space between the two of you existed, where love and understanding felt like the answer to all the burdens Sevika carried within.

[benkeibear]

『 AITA: For accidentally sending nudes to my sons best friend? 』

☼ synopsis: Toji accidentally sends nudes to his sons best friend... but was it really an accident?

☼ character: Toji Fushiguro

☼ reader: female | AFAB

☼ wc: 2033

☼ cw: phone sex, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Toji in his 40s), masturbation, pet names: baby/doll/bunny, mentions of pussy eating and p in v

☼ notes: a sudden need for dilf Toji overcame my horny brain... I won't apologize 😭

[1 New Message, 3 Images Attached]

Your head piped up when your phone vibrated, your focus instantly vanished when you saw his name - Toji. Seeing his name on your phone was a rare sight, he only ever texted you when Megumi didn't show up at night or when you asked him to pick you up from god knows where because it was far too dangerous to walk home at a late hour. Hell, at this point you almost called him dad with how many times he showed up for you or the way he treats you like his own.

Curiously you opened the messages to see why on earth that man texted you at almost 1 am, but your phone dropped to the floor and your jaw almost joined the device. You pinched the bridge of your nose and picked the phone up again. This surely wasn't what you were thinking...right?

A shaky breath left your lips when you unlocked your phone again, only to be met with Toji Fushiguro's cock splayed all over the screen. It wasn't even tasteful, just your average dick in hand while jerking off picture. Unsure if you should even stare at it the way you did, you swiped left to be met with a similar picture, but it was the short video that followed that left you breathless. He sounded so frustrated, angrily moving his fist up and down his thick shaft, his foreskin slightly shifting over the tip each time. It was hypnotic and after the fifth time of watching the eight second long video, you had to close it, your pussy aching from neglect, but your brain told you not to indulge. You really shouldn't touch yourself to nudes of your best friend's dad, now should you? This surely was a mistake and it almost made you chuckle, the thought of Toji going on dates and probably scaring these poor women off with his attitude alone.

Biting your lip, you decided that it couldn't hurt to indulge, worst case, you could blame him for it - he's the older one, after all, and should know better. Your clothes were quickly discarded before you took a few tasteful nudes, which you immediately sent to him. They were really tasteful, nothing too revealing and most importantly, not showing your face.

[1 New Message, 1 Video Attached]

With a shaky breath, you opened the video, your other hand gently rolling one of your nipples before traveling down south while the video played on a low volume.

“That's my good girl,” his voice rasps into the microphone, praising you for indulging, but his voice almost gets drowned out by the view, his cock was painfully hard, veins visibly popping and his grip was tight as he worked on his lubed up cock. The view once again left you hypnotized, his big hands looked small when he held his cock and it left your pussy clenching around nothing as your thoughts ran wild. Would you even be able to take him? He surely would rip you clean into two pieces with how huge his cock is.

Your pussy was absolutely drenched by now, fingers gently circling your clit and occasionally dipping the tip of a finger inside of your entrance to tease yourself.

“Bet you want me to fuck you dumb on my cock. Make you forget your own fucking name, bunny,” he groaned, a low moan following after the pet name that had your clit throbbing. You wanted nothing more than to hear this moan directly next to your ear when he pushes your head into the pillows and fucks you until you're a babbling mess for him - for your best friend's dad.

“Fuck- I can only imagine what your little cunt would look like stretched around me right now… so fucking tight and messy.” His hips buck up to meet the thrusts of his hand and you can see his abs ripple beneath his skin. He was right. Your pussy is a mess right now.

“Show me that messy pussy I love so much, baby. Let me see,” he encourages you to send him more of you, which is where the video ends.

A shiver runs down your spine and your finger stills against your sweet spot, but you don't pull it out just yet, contemplating if you should go further than you already did.

Your needy cunt clenched around your finger, letting you know that you fucking need to see more of Toji, need to see him come undone in order to earn your own release. These thoughts won't let you think straight, so you angle your camera and hit record when you rub your little clit just before dipping two fingers into your messy cunt. The squelching noises are obscene when you start curling them against your sweet spot and at this point, you can't hold back mewls and small whimpers anymore, practically whining his name and begging for his cock like a bitch in heat. Just as you were about to release, you pulled your fingers out, edging yourself and sending the little video to Toji.

[Message: Sent]

[Message: Read]

In order to keep yourself dancing along the edge, you ran your fingers over your clit with feather light touches, just waiting for him to type or send more of your newest addiction - his cock.

Toji stroked his dick in time with the way you pump your fingers into your cunt, fast and needy, but when you start whining for him, he almost loses control, his balls suddenly feeling tight and his urge to release getting almost unbearable… until he catches a glimpse of your face. It was just a fraction of a second, but he would recognize your face everywhere.

His hand stilled right away, his orgasm ruined, but his cock twitched greedily.

“Fuck,” he cursed out and locked his phone before running his hand over his face. Without wasting another moment, he wiped the remnants of lube on his hand off on his discarded t-shirt and dialed your number.

When you finally picked up, it was just silent on both sides, neither of you sure what to say, so he puts on the big boy pants and speaks up first.

“That wasn't meant for you,” it sounded like he scolded you, as if you invaded his privacy when it was his fault to begin with.

“I should have paid better attention, sorry.” An actual apology followed seconds later and you could hear that his heart and mind racing equally as fast as yours, although he would never admit to it. He was met with silence once again.

“You shouldn't have sent me anything back. I would have deleted everything if you would have just…” He began to explain that he would have never asked this of you, trying his best to be a proper adult here, when in reality he has thought about bending your cute ass over the kitchen counter quite a few times.

Toji can't even deny it at this point. He likes his women a lot younger and you're no exception here, even though his son is your best friend, so what? There was a reason he stopped talking, though, a little whimper on your end caught him off guard.

“Are you fucking getting off to this?” He asked, but it sounded more accusatory, although you can hear his smirk, you know him well enough that you know that he's just trying to be that stern adult when in reality he likes to think with that big cock of his.

Get a grip. She is young enough to be your fucking daughter. Toji tried to hold himself back, but at this point it was like a tightly coiled spring, the more pressure applied, the more inevitable he would snap - so he chuckled.

His chuckle sounded almost mocking, but it turned you on even more. The fact that he could hear just how pathetic you were, how desperately you craved him to stretch you open on his cock and fuck you until you could neither sit nor walk comfortably for the next days to come. Two of your fingers slipped into your dripping pussy once again, a silent gasp escaping you at the light stretch.

“You thinkin’ of my fingers fucking you, bunny?” He mused out and you heard a lid click shut on his line, followed by a small hiss. The lube felt like fucking ice against his rock hard length, but he needed it, wanting to imagine your little cunt wrapped around him and not his shitty hands. You mewled in reply, but it wasn't good enough for him.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you thinkin’ of,” his voice sounded raw, the hunger for you dripped off of every word, and you could already feel your walls flutter. The sheer perversion and the taboo of this alone were enough to have you on edge, but the way he talked to you drove you to the brink of insanity.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered and your voice cracked in such an embarrassing way, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Toji could hear how needy you were for him - not knowing if you've ever been fucked properly or if your fingers were all that your cunt ever got stuffed with - he took pity on your whining self.

“Come for me, baby, let me hear you,” he encouraged you to finally cave in, to let the knot that has formed in your tummy snap. Heaven knows he was just as close with how desperate you were for him, whining his name so sweetly as you came around your little fingers. He could practically see it, your toes curling and your mouth hung open as you tried to close your thighs, fingers still curling by the sound and he wanted nothing more than to have you clench around his cock like that - you'd grip him like a vice and he would never let you go until you're dripping with his cum and -

“Fuck-” Toji’s chest rumbled with a groan as he painted his defined abs with small shots of ivory, a few drops running down his hand as he squeezed his sensitive tip a little harder than necessary just for it to sting with overstimulation.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes, heavy breathing slowly evening out and the haze of hormones wearing off, leaving you to think about what just happened between the both of you.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asked, actually worried that you might regret this.

“Hmm, yeah,” you whisper softly, and it felt like a whole entire mountain fell off his chest.

“Do you… regret it, doll?” He proceeded to ask you as he wiped the cum away with the discarded T-shirt before tossing it to the ground.

“Not really,” you giggle softly and shake your head. “I just regret that it wasn't actually your fingers,” you sound teasing with an edge of sincerity and it was a breath of fresh air to him. He never thought you would be this naughty.

“Naughty… Perhaps I can change that next time I drive you home,” he mused, letting you know that this won't ever happen in his home.

“Yeah… let's not tell Megs anything about that, okay?” You ask shy, the guilt was slowly eating you alive from keeping such a secret, but Megumi wouldn't like it much to know that you're fucking his dad. He would probably never speak to you again should he find out.

“That boy won't find it out from me anyway,” Toji reassured you, never telling his son anything about his love life to begin with - let alone about the women he ends up in bed with.

“But who knows. Perhaps I'll have you as a dessert one day. You just gotta be real quiet, he muses, the playfulness practically dripping from his voice and you rubbed your thighs together.

“Don't say that, Mr. Fushiguro. I might hold you to it,” you chuckle as your finger gently glides over your slick folds once again.

“Maybe you can tell me about all the things you intend to do to me.”...

Networks @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

[madebycloud]

pt 2 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, parties, drinking & vomiting (jinx), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 4.8k notes: R wears combats boots for the plot... — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Mrs. Kiramman escorts you out of her office, clicking her tongue. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn't show your face here for at least a week.”

“Guess I just couldn't stay away from you, Mrs. K.”

Jinx stands outside the guidance office, waiting for her turn. When the door opens, her gaze lifts, landing on you. One arm folded over her chest, a lollipop sticks out of her mouth, which she's quietly sucking on.

Mrs. Kiramman glances between you and Jinx, her eyes narrowing under her glasses. “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Mrs. K shakes her head before grabbing Jinx's elbow and shoving her into the guidance office, spinning around to point a finger at you. “For the love of God, stay away from her. If you two ever decide to have children, we'll have an evil incarnate walking around school.”

With a sigh, Mrs. Kiramman closes the office door, the sound of the latch shutting ringing through the hallway, leaving you alone. You glance through the glass window, catching Jinx giving you the middle finger.

You chuckle and blow her a kiss, not missing the way her jaw clenches.

—

You knock three times on the door, looking behind your shoulder as you wait. Footsteps approach, and you’re about to be greeted—

And a pink-haired girl opens the door.

“Who are you?” Vi asks, looking you up and down. You open your mouth to introduce yourself, but Vi cuts you off before you can get a word out. “Hold up, I think I recognize you.” She snaps her fingers, pointing straight at you. “You're one of Caitlyn's friends, aren't ya?”

You nod. “Yes,” you reply, with a gulp.

“So, what are you doin' here?”

You give a shrug. “I'm here for Jinx.”

Vi snorts. “Hah, figures.” She looks up, calling out behind her shoulder. “Jinx!” she yells. “Someone's here for you!”

You hear some shuffling above, and then the sound of footsteps stomping down the stairs.

Vi turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Sooo, are you and…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jinx interrupts, appearing behind Vi's shoulder. Vi just snorts again at her sister.

“Nine-thirty right? I'm early.” You grin, but it is wiped out by Jinx's groan.

“You're going to Caitlyn's?” Vi asks, turning to look at her younger sister.

Jinx shakes her head hastily. “No-”

“Aw, come on. Your friend came all the way here for you.”

Jinx grits her teeth. “She's not even my-”

“Please?” Vi grins, looping an arm around her sister's shoulder. “Besides, I'll go to the party anyway.”

Jinx crosses her arms. “Seriously?”

“Pleeeeease,” Vi pleads. “You know how boring I get when I have to go somewhere alone.”

Jinx looks at you before dropping her arms to her sides. “Fine. You owe me.”

Vi smirks, ruffling her sister's hair and earning a glare in return. “See? she said yes.”

“I said fine.” She scowls and turns away. “Let me get ready first,” she grumbles, disappearing upstairs.

“Don't take too long!” Vi calls after her.

Jinx's only response is a door slamming shut from upstairs.

Vi rolls her eyes before turning to regard you. “Sorry 'bout that. She's a bit of a handful.” She scratches the back of her head awkwardly. “She'll come around. She's always hated Cait for some reason, but she'll come around.”

Upstairs, you can hear muffled curses and sounds of thudding and banging coming from Jinx’s room. From the sound of it, her room is now a total disaster… not that it wasn't before.

“It's fine. It's not like it's your fault.”

“Still, she could be a little more… pleasant,” Vi mutters, leaning against the doorframe. “She wouldn't want anything to do with Caitlyn,” she continues. “Whenever Cait visited, she would hide in her room until she left.” Vi sighs, rubbing her face. “Even when Cait was just mentioned, she would roll her eyes and throw stuff at me.”

“Do you know what she has against Cait?” you ask.

“Not a damn clue,” Vi grumbles. “Caitlyn's never done anything to Jinx, as far as I'm aware. The hostility comes from Jinx's end.”

Jinx's door slams open upstairs, and stomping footsteps can be heard heading back down the stairs. 

She’s no longer dressed casually in sweatpants and a band shirt, instead wearing a black pleated skirt with a studded belt snaking around her waist, ripped fishnet tights covering her legs, and ending at her combat boots with the laces loosely tied. Her cropped tank top shows off her stomach, a leather jacket hung over her shoulders, and multiple leather bracelets and necklaces. Her eyes have smudged eyeliner, and her lips are painted with dark lipstick. 

This is far different than the normal Jinx you’re used to seeing at school all the time. Seeing her dressed up and looking like that was…

Damn. Damn.

You realize you’ve said something.

Then you realize you've said something out loud.

“Damn…” Vi repeats, taking a glance at her younger sister. “You look good!”

Jinx grunts, snatching her car keys and heading for the door. “Whatever. I'm driving.”

—

The Kirammans' house is like a beehive of activity. A full-blown party for all of Caitlyn's friends from her college. If Mrs. K found out about this, she'll be pissed as hell. Thankfully she's out of the house—otherwise you'll be kicked out before the party even properly begins.

Inside the house, there's a crowd of college students, probably twenty of them, maybe more. The only people from high school were you and Jinx.

Vi turns towards you, leaning in to speak in your ear over the loud music. “I'll go find Cait.”

You nod back, watching as she disappears into the crowd.

Jinx heads up the stairs towards the balcony, pushing her way past the numerous students.

There are about seven college couples making out on the steps and the walls of the hallway leading to the balcony. What the hell were they putting in the drinks here?

You try to follow behind, but it’s difficult to keep up with her in the crowded staircase.

A very, very drunk woman rushes up to you out of nowhere, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glassy. She throws her arms around you with a sloppy grin on her face. “Kiss me!” she exclaims, stumbling and bumping into you.

“Nah, not tonight,” you laugh awkwardly, pushing her into the lap of some lonely guy sitting in a chair who blushes at her. “Kiss him,” you instruct, making a shooing motion with your hands.

She giggles, turns to him, and then begins smothering him with sloppy kisses, her drunk hands clumsily pawing at his clothes.

“T-thanks,” the guy stutters, grinning at you over the drunk girl's shoulder as she begins showering the side of his neck with sloppy kisses.

You grimace, turning away to look at where Jinx was standing a few seconds ago.

Oh, crap.

She's gone.

—

“Jinx!” Caitlyn grins, approaching her as she walks past. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes glassy.

Jinx groans.

Caitlyn's eyes flash, taking in Jinx’s outfit. “Looking good!” she says, clearly trying to be nice. She looks around, searching for any sign of her sister. “Where's Vi?” she asks, her eyes scanning the dancing students.

Jinx smirks. “Hell if I know. Off trying to hook up with someone, probably,” she jokes, snickering to herself.

Caitlyn's smile drops instantly. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense. “What's wrong with you?” she mutters, bumping her shoulder roughly against Jinx on her way out.

Jinx stumbles, nearly losing her balance. She quickly turns, watching as Caitlyn storms off. “What the hell crawled up her ass and died?” she says to herself, frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. She brushes off the shoulder that took the hit, then heads back into the living room.

—

The party is loud, cramped, and way too hot. People kept running into you. Spilling drinks that reeked of alcohol all over your clothes. Not to mention the fact that a lot of them kept getting too flirty for your taste. 

Finally, you manage to spot her in the living room, chugging down a glass of amber-colored liquid into her mouth.

“Right on, sister!” says the guy who gave her the glass, giving Jinx a high-five and then disappearing into the sea of people.

Before she can take another sip, you snatch the half-empty glass from her fingers before she can finish it. “What's this?” you ask. “I've been looking for you everywhere.”

“I'm getting trashed, maaaaan,” she mocks, smiling lazily at you. “Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?”

“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do.”

“Funny, you're the only one,” she replies with a scoff, pushing her way through the crowd of loud strangers. “Later.”

She's gone before you can even respond. You swear you can still hear the sound of her muttering and grumbling to herself, but it's completely drowned out by the loud music and drunken yelling.

It's honestly annoying how many people there are, most of whom are completely drunk and high out of their minds, bumping into you like a bunch of toddlers and spilling their disgusting alcohol all over you as you try to squeeze through them.

This party sucks.

—

You pass by the same drunk girl and the guy from earlier, who are still feverishly sucking face. The guy grabs your clothes, stopping you from walking away. “Really,” he says between sloppy kisses. “Really! Thank you!”

You roll your eyes and give him a pat on the shoulder before wrenching yourself free from his grip, continuing your way through the horde of drunk students.

You made your way down the stairs, hoping to find Jinx to be less drunk and more coherent, and you wouldn't have to deal with the crowd of idiots and drunk frat boys upstairs.

Of course, your hopes were quickly dashed when you saw Jinx swaying back and forth on her feet, her hand gripping a fresh shot of god-knows-what.

“Hey, why don't you let me have this one, huh?” You grab the glass to try and pry it out of her tight grip.

“No! This one's mine.” Jinx clenches her grip on the glass and scowls at you, refusing to let it go. “Find your own.”

You manage to take the glass from her, and she lets out a sigh before stomping off. You try to follow after Jinx when suddenly, a strong hand grabs you by the shoulder.

“Where's Caitlyn?!” Vi yells over the blaring music.

“I don't know!” you yell back, just as loud.

The crowd in the next room suddenly goes wild when someone turns on the radio and blasts it at an eardrum-rupturing volume.

You and Vi glance at each other before turning to look at Jinx dancing on a table in the next room. Her leather jacket has fallen away, exposing her stomach and arms, leaving her in just a cropped tank top.

Her braids slap against her back, sticking to her skin from all the sweat. She swings her hips back and forth and twirls her arms in random movements. The crowd cheers, and a group forms a circle around her table, clapping and laughing wildly.

“Jesus,” Vi mutters, her eyes wide. “I didn't think Jinx could dance like that.”

Jinx is completely drunk, absolutely drunk. She has her eyes closed, oblivious to the attention and the amount of alcohol running through her system.

You push a few people out of the way as you get closer.

Her body moves on its own, to the music, to the beat. Her hands travel up her body and into her hair, her skin slick with sweat.

She spins her head around, and BANG.

She headbutts a chandelier hanging on the ceiling.

You watch as her body sways and her eyes roll back in her head. Before she can fall, you manage to catch her just in time.

The drunken and rowdy crowd starts to cheer and clap, thinking that this is all part of her drunken show.

You set Jinx down on her feet, your hands grasping her arms tight to keep her steady. “Are you okay?”

She groans and opens her eyes, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “I'm fine.” She tries to pull away from you, trying to swat your hands from her arms, but as soon as she tries to walk on her own, she stumbles on her own feet. You grab her again, holding her steady.

“You're not fine. C'mon.” You sling her right arm over your shoulders, wrapping your arm around her waist as you guide her down the hall.

“I jussssta needa lie down somewhere,” she slurs, leaning heavily against your side.

“The minute you lie down, you'll be passed out,” you respond as you keep her moving. 

“I know, just let me go to sleep. Sleep is good. Good, good, good.”

“Yeah, well, not if you have a concussion,” you retort, grabbing her tighter around the waist to make sure she doesn't just fall face-first onto the floor.

“Okay, I'll just… sit on the floor,” Jinx mumbles, trying to plop down onto the ground right in the middle of the hallway.

“Nooooo, we're not doing that.” You grab her by the arms, hauling her back up to her feet.

“But I'm tired. I'm sleepy. So sleepy.”

“I know.” You guide her to the garden, where you manage to find a bench. You help her sit down, keeping your arm around her side in case she accidentally tips over. “Come on,” you say, slowly lowering her down. “Lean back, lean back. There you go. Just... keep your head up. Hold your head up.”

Jinx reaches up and touches the spot where she hit her head earlier, wincing as her fingers touch the lump that's already starting to form.

You're just starting to kneel down in front of Jinx when suddenly, a hand grabs your arm. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Caitlyn standing behind you.

“We need to talk,” she says, sounding strangely urgent.

“Right now?” You look back at Jinx, who is still slumped against the bench, one hand on her head while the other is propped up on her knee. “I have my hands full at the moment.”

“Can you give me a second?” she insists, pulling you further away to the side. She lets go of your arm and runs a hand through her hair. “It's off. The deal is off.”

“What are you talking about?”

Caitlyn sighs. “Vi never wanted me, okay? she's... she's got eyes for someone else. I know it.”

You have neither the time nor the patience for this. You glance back to check on Jinx. She's starting to drift off to sleep, her chin dropping down towards her chest, before a sharp shake of her head brings her back to alertness.

“Cait,” you start, turning back to Caitlyn. “Do you like her or not?”

Caitlyn nods, looking down at her feet. “Yeah…”

“Then is she worth all this trouble?”

She hesitates. “Well, I thought she was, but...but I....”

You cut her off before she can finish. “She is or isn't. See, first of all, are you going to give up on her over a bit of competition? And secondly,” you poke her on the chest with your index finger. “Don't ever let anyone, ever, make you think you don't deserve what you want. If you want her, then go for it.” Then, you turn away from Caitlyn. “I gotta go.”

Jinx starts to fall off the bench, and you quickly catch her before she face-plants on the ground. “Okay, that's it,” you murmur to yourself as you hoist her up and begin walking away.

—

You march Jinx through the streets, her arm around your shoulder to keep her from falling over.

“Ughhhh.” She groans. “This is so patronizing.”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.”

She shoves you, trying to walk on her own. “I don't think so.” Unsurprisingly, she falls to the ground.

You reach down and try to bring her back to her feet, pulling her up the small hill until you reach the playground outside of Caitlyn's house.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” Jinx asks, leaning against you for support.

“I already told you.” You lift her arm a little higher up onto your shoulder. “You might have a concussion.”

Jinx breaks free of your grip and walks a few steps forward. You keep a close eye on her and continue to walk at her side, making sure to be within arm's reach in case she trips and falls.

“You don't care if I never wake up,” she mumbles, stumbling over her own feet.

You chuckle, catching her from falling. “Sure, I do.”

The two of you reach a pair of swings, surrounded on all sides by thick vines.

She stops in front of the swings, turning to face you. “Why?”

You take her hands in yours, keeping her straight and steady. “Because then I'd have to start dating girls who actually like me.”

“Yeah, like you could find one."

“See that, there?” You gesture with one hand to Jinx. “Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I just... I wanna sit down for a while.”

“Alright.” You lead her over to the swingset and sit her down in one of the swings, guiding her hands to hold onto the metal chains. “Don't fall off.”

She grins, her eyes locking onto yours.

And then, she suddenly falls backward, only to be caught, again.

“Jesus,” you mutter, propping her back upright. 

Jinx chuckles but doesn't say anything.

You move to sit on the swing beside her, the two of you swinging back and forth. The chains of the swing creak awkwardly. “So…” you start. “Why do you hate her?”

“Who?”

“Caitlyn.”

Jinx's face wrinkles up, and she frowns, glaring straight ahead. “I hate her.”

You nod. “I know. You don't look like the type to chug shots of tequila. Must be serious.”

She turns to throw you a glare. “Hey, I can be 'cool.' I can be 'laid back' like everyone else.” She snickers, half to herself. “You don't think I've got it in me?”

“Thought you were too good for that.”

“Well, you know what they say…”

“Nope. What do they say?”

You turn, only to find Jinx fast asleep, her head resting against the swing's rusty chains.

“Shiiiiiit!” You spring out of the swing and rush towards her. “No, no, no, no! Jinx! C'mon, wake up!” You kneel down, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells!” you sing loudly, patting the side of her face.

Her eyelids flutter as she responds to the sound of your voice, slowly and groggily blinking her eyes open.

You exhale, feeling your shoulders relax. You stand up at your full height, releasing your hands from her shoulders. “Thank fuck.” You sigh, looking down at her.

Her gaze lingers on you, her mouth slightly agape. “Hey…” she murmurs. “Your eyes are pretty.”

...

What?

Jinx just... complimented you?

You're floating up into cloud nine—no, no. This has to be some kind of trick.

But... that smile on her face. An unfamiliar, genuine smile. You're floating higher and higher, about to touch the clouds...

Jinx is actually complimenting you. Jinx is-

HRRRRRK!

HRRRRRK!

...and that's when the evil dragged you back to earth.

Your mouth turns down in a grimace, and you look down at your combat boots, which are now covered in a mixture of bile, alcohol, and... wait, is that bacon?

What. The. Hell.

“Oh for fuck's sake!” you exclaim, backing away to avoid the vomit. “Seriously? Seriously?” You shake your boots, splattering globs of puke onto the grass. “Did you have to urp puke on my boots?”

Jinx leans back against the swing, regaining her breath. “Sorry,” she mumbles, wiping her mouth with one hand. “I guess I should've said, 'Pretty. Pretty gross.'.”

You glare down at your boots—ruined, stained, and completely disgusting.

You shake your boots again, trying to get rid of as much of the gross liquid as you possibly can. “Damn it, Jinx!” you yell, kicking off your boots and standing barefoot in the grass. “These are my favorites!”

“Not anymore.”

“UGH!” you shout, throwing your hands up into the air. “I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU, CAIT!” You look up at the sky, yelling at the moon, the stars, and whatever god might be listening. “YOU HEAR ME, CAITLYN?! I'M GOING TO CURSE YOU FOR THIS!”

—

Caitlyn, the benevolent goddess from the heavens above, kindly let you borrow her shoes.

You, being the kind and humble person that you are, graciously accept her offer but insist that you would return the shoes back when you can. But she insisted back, saying that the shoes were your size after all, so you may keep them.

You thank Caitlyn once more before accepting your new pair of shoes, thanking the gods that you have such a generous friend.

Blessed be Caitlyn Kiramman.

You now stand outside Caitlyn's house as the students who attended the party begin to drive away or head home. Jinx is currently in the bathroom, washing herself up and preparing to leave.

Vi walks up beside you and speaks up. “Can you give Jinx a ride home?”

You look over at Vi, giving her a nod. “Yeah, sure thing.”

She gives you a tired smile, her lips red and swollen.

“Wait—you're not gonna come with us?”

She shakes her head, giving a vague gesture with her hand. “Nah, I'm gonna... hang out a bit more. I'll get a ride home later.”

You raise an eyebrow curiously but shrug. “Got it.”

“Well, I'll get going then.” Vi pats you on the shoulder before turning away and walking back towards the house. Then, just as suddenly, she stops and turns back to you with her finger pointed in your direction. “And don't you do something stupid to my sister.” 

You laugh it off. “Don't worry,” you reassure her. “I would never do anything stupid to Jinx. I'll make sure nothing bad happens, I promise.”

Her expression softens. “Good.” She gives you a pat on the back. “I know you're not a bad person. But I still gotta look out for my little sister, y'know?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “I get it.”

You watch as Vi turns around and walks into the house without another word, leaving you standing alone outside. You stand by yourself, watching the remaining people from the party head home one by one.

Suddenly, Jinx's voice snaps you to attention. “Let's go. I'm driving.”

Spinning around, you find Jinx standing behind you, and you frown. “Hell no. You're drunk. I'll drive.”

Jinx waves a hand dismissively. “Pssh, I'm fine. I can drive. I'm not that drunk.”

“Bullshit.” You open the passenger door, gesturing for her to get inside. “Get over here.”

Jinx groans but obliges, walking over to the passenger door. She reluctantly gets into the passenger seat. You head around to the driver's side and slide in, taking the car keys she hands you.

Starting the car, you take one last glance at her face before putting the car into gear and pulling away.

—

Jinx fiddles with the radio dial, flipping through various stations until she finds a song that suits her taste. But you quickly change it before she can get too comfortable.

“Hey!”

“I'm driving, so I get to pick the song.”

She scowls, reaching back to change it back to her preferred station. “It's my car.”

You reach over and change it back again. “And I'm in control of it.”

“But it's Letters to Cleo!” she protests. “I know you like them! I saw you there.”

You swallow hard, and with a sigh, you let her listen to her song. 

“So, tell me,” she says, turning to face you. “Where were you last year?”

“I was busy.”

She squints at you, her intoxicated brain trying to interpret your response. “Were you in jail?” she asks again.

“Maybe.”

“Pfft, no. You weren't.”

“Then why'd you ask?” you retort, shooting a side glare at her.

“Why'd you lie?”

You don't answer, instead grabbing the volume knob and cranking it up to keep her occupied. She starts to bob her head drunkenly, singing along to the lyrics like she's in a concert, headbanging wildly with a grin on her face.

Despite yourself, you find your fingers starting to tap against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

“I should do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” She points to the radio.

“Start a band?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Install car stereos.” She laughs, then sighs. “Of course, start a band, dumbass.”

“Why don't you, then?” you ask, keeping your eyes glued to the road.

“As if anyone would want to hear me play.”

“And why's that?”

“Everyone thinks I'm scary. No one would want to be in a band with the girl that makes all the other students crap their pants.”

You steal a sidelong glance in her direction. Right now, she is far from 'scary'. “I'm no picnic myself,” you reply, looking back at the road.

Jinx glances up at you, then laughs. “True. You're no walk in the park either.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, huh?”

She grins, leaning back in her seat. “Fair enough.”

You park the car in her driveway and shut off the engine. You can feel her gaze on the side of your face, and you look over at her. “What?”

“Nevermind,” she replies quickly, looking away. She bites her lower lip, trying to hide her smile. You catch her looking at you in the side-view mirror, but she quickly averts her gaze when you notice. There's a tint of pink in her cheeks... It wasn't there before.

You look away, focusing on the road.

Was that... a blush?

No way.

She's probably still feeling the effects of the alcohol. Don't overthink things, that's stupid, you tell yourself, ignoring how your own body starts to warm up.

“You know…” Her voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look over to see her fully facing you. You watch as she runs her tongue over her lower lip, the tip just barely touching the corner of her mouth. “...you're not as vile as I thought you were.”

Your eyebrows shot up at her words. Where is this coming from? “What changed your mind then?”

“Eh, you weren't bad company,” she says with a shrug. Her tongue darts out of the corner of her mouth again, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

You notice how... soft her mouth looks, even with her lips curled in a half-smirk.

Get it together.

You stare at her, your brain taking a second to process what she just said. Must be the alcohol talking.

She doesn't think you're good company for real, she's just saying random crap.

“Not bad, huh? and here I thought you hated my guts.”

“I did.” Her eyes dart down to your mouth for a second, almost too quick for you to notice. “Or at least I thought I did.”

It must be the alcohol.

It's definitely the alcohol.

Because there's no other reason for why she's leaning in, her eyes fluttering shut, lips parting slightly, moving closer and closer...

Wait, what.

She's...

There's no way she's actually leaning in right now...

She is.

She's leaning in.

You can feel her breath on your face, the smell of tequila mixing with the smell of her perfume. Your body is on fire. You're going to explode. You're going to combust.

Oh, hell no.

This is not happening. She's still tipsy.

This isn't right, this isn't right.

You forcibly tear your head away from hers, your stomach twisting. “Maybe we should do this another time.”

Her eyes snap open. She looks pissed. She looks like she's about to murder you, and honestly, right now, you'd let her. Her brow creases together, and she frowns, looking away. She mutters a few swear words before getting out of the car, shutting the door behind her with a bang that makes the whole car rattle.

She stomps up her driveway, disappearing through the front doorway as the door slams hard enough to nearly shake the glass window.

Your head is spinning.

 What just happened? how did things go tits up so quickly?

This is not what you signed up for. Five minutes ago, things were fine, then the mood suddenly shifted, and she was all up in your personal space.

And then things got all weird and awkward.

She's drunk. She'll forget this even happened, and everything will be fine.

Yeah, no biggie.

She'll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a hangover, but nothing else. Right? Right.

“Fuuuuuckk.”

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty

[narcissisticsmoker]

I know you’re out, baby, laughing with your friends, pretending like you’re not already thinking about me. But I also know what’s really going on in that pretty little head of yours. You’ve been squirming for me all night, haven’t you? Trying to keep it together, but every time your thoughts drift to me, it gets harder to focus.

You said you’d be back soon, and I’m counting the seconds. You’re out there, flushed from the drinks, that mischievous glint in your eye that makes me want to ruin you the second you walk through the door. I bet your legs are pressed together right now, aren’t they? Trying to fight that ache, that sweet little burn that only I can take care of.

You’re already mine, baby, even surrounded by them. You’re thinking about my hands, aren’t you? The way they’d slide over your body, gripping your hips, teasing you until you can’t breathe. You’re thinking about my voice, low and rough, telling you exactly what I’d do if you were here right now.

So go on, enjoy your time, but don’t forget who you belong to. And when you come home, baby, I’ll be waiting. Waiting to make you feel everything you’ve been aching for all night, waiting to hear those soft, broken moans that only I get to pull from you. Don’t keep me waiting too long.

[deonsx]

bachira, isagi, rin, (add ur favs if you want <3) with reader who’s love languages are like quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation + is pretty talkative and social feeling annoying?? like reader yapping away and sometimes realizing it could be boring, or reader always liking being close to them but pulling away sometimes for seemingly no reason cause they don’t wanna be a bother? (Also sfw pls I am asexual :3)

muah muah have a nice day/night drink lots of water!!! remember to take time for yourself!!!

heyaaaa im here again!!! i love this cutie rq lets do this also im adding^^ +Nagi,Sae,Kaiser

Rin Itoshi

He’s used to solitude and silence, so your constant chatter initially feels like an intrusion into his carefully constructed world

But over time, he notices how your voice fills the spaces he didn’t realize were empty. Even if you’re rambling about something he doesn’t fully understand, like the plot of a drama you’re watching or a funny story from work, he listens. He’s a quiet listener, his sharp eyes fixed on you while you speak, occasionally nodding or offering a low hum of acknowledgment

Sometimes, though, you realize you’ve been talking too much. You falter mid-sentence, worry flickering across your face. “Sorry, I’m probably boring you” you mumble, starting to pull away, both physically and emotionally. Rin frowns when this happens. “You’re not” he says, his tone firm. “Just… keep talking” It’s not a grand declaration, but it’s enough to keep you going

Your love for physical touch throws him off guard at first too. You’ll casually lean against him while watching a movie or brush your fingers against his when you’re walking together. He stiffens initially, unsure how to reciprocate, but he doesn’t pull away. In time, he grows used to your closeness, even coming to crave it

But there are moments when you suddenly withdraw. Maybe you were resting your head on his shoulder but then sit up, or you pull your hand back from his. Rin doesn’t understand why you do this and it frustrates him

One evening as you sit together on the couch, you shift away after being snuggled against him for a while. He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you “What are you doing?” You hesitate, avoiding his gaze. “I just… I don’t want to annoy you. I know I can be too much sometimes”

Rin’s grip tightens ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. “You’re not annoying.” His voice softens, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through. “If I didn’t want you here, I’d tell you” It’s a simple reassurance, but it means everything coming from someone like Rin. Slowly, you relax and lean back into him. He doesn’t say much else, but the way his hand lingers on yours, grounding you, says enough

Bachira Meguru

Bachira genuinely enjoys hearing you talk. Whether it’s about your day a funny story or some random thought that popped into your head he listens with a wide grin his golden eyes sparkling with interest. Sometimes he even adds to your rambles tossing in jokes or exaggerated reactions that make you laugh

“Wait wait so you’re telling me the cat jumped on the table during the meeting? Was it secretly trying to take over the company?” he says dramatically making you giggle until your sides hurt

He never makes you feel boring. Instead he thrives off your energy loving how your conversations never seem to end. But the moment you start doubting yourself maybe mid-sentence when you realize you’ve been talking for a while he notices right away

“Am I talking too much?” you ask your voice suddenly hesitant. Bachira tilts his head confused “Huh? No way!” He leans closer his nose almost brushing yours. “I like your voice. Don’t stop now you were telling me about that weird customer!”

Your love for physical touch is something Bachira immediately embraces. He’s naturally affectionate and loves being close to you whether it’s linking arms holding hands or draping himself over you while you sit together. You’re like his personal magnet if he’s in the room he’s going to find his way to you

“Bee I need to cook dinner” you protest one evening as he hugs you from behind his chin resting on your shoulder “Mm but you’re so comfy” he murmurs nuzzling into your neck “Can’t I stay here? Pretty please?”

Sometimes though you pull away unexpectedly. Maybe you feel like you’re overwhelming him or being too clingy. Bachira notices this too. The first time it happens he blinks in confusion watching as you slide to the other side of the couch or step away from his playful embrace

“Why’d you move?” he asks pouting slightly “I just… I don’t want to bother you” you admit avoiding his gaze

Bachira’s expression softens and he wastes no time closing the gap between you again. He cups your cheeks in his hands his thumbs brushing lightly against your skin “Bother me? That’s impossible.” His voice is soft but filled with conviction. “I like it when you’re close. You don’t have to pull away okay?”

The reassurance in his tone makes your chest feel lighter and you smile “Okay” Bachira thrives in your shared chaos loving every moment of your affection and chatter. To him you’re never too much; you’re the perfect match for his wild boundless energy. He even gets a little needy if you ever try to tone yourself down

“Hey” he says one day tugging at your sleeve. “Why are you so quiet today? Did I do something?” You laugh shaking your head “No I just didn’t want to talk too much and annoy you”

Bachira’s jaw drops dramatically “Annoy me? You? Never!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders pulling you into a side hug “You could talk all day and I’d still wanna hear more. So go on tell me everything”

Isagi Yoichi

At first he’s a little overwhelmed by how much you talk. You’re full of energy and always have something to say while he tends to lean on the quieter more thoughtful side. But it doesn’t take long for him to realize he enjoys the way you bring so much life into his day

He listens to you intently even when you’re going off on tangents about your favorite show or a random funny thing that happened during the day. He nods along offering small comments or questions that show he’s genuinely engaged. When you pause mid-conversation worrying that you might be talking too much Isagi is quick to reassure you

“Wait why’d you stop?” he asks tilting his head slightly his soft blue eyes full of curiosity “I don’t know… I just thought I might be boring you” you admit quietly. Isagi’s expression shifts to one of determination the same look he has on the field “You could never bore me. I like hearing you talk. It’s… comforting”

Your love for physical touch takes a bit of getting used to for Isagi. At first he stiffens slightly when you casually grab his hand or lean into his side. It’s not that he doesn’t like it he’s just not used to someone being so openly affectionate. But over time he starts to crave it. He finds himself reaching for your hand first or sitting closer to you just so your shoulders brush

One evening you’re sitting next to him on the couch and absentmindedly rest your head on his shoulder. After a few moments you pull away suddenly feeling like you might be crowding him. Isagi notices immediately

“What’s wrong?” he asks his voice laced with concern “Nothing I just didn’t want to bother you” you say looking away. He frowns slightly before gently grabbing your wrist pulling you back to him “You’re not bothering me. I like it when you’re close. Stay?”

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi is a great listener even if he doesn’t seem like it. He’ll lie back phone in hand while you go on about your day occasionally mumbling a soft “hmm” or “yeah” to let you know he’s paying attention. When you suddenly pause mid-ramble and mumble “Sorry I’m probably boring you” Nagi’s lazy eyes lift from his phone to meet yours “Not really” he says plainly his voice soft but firm. “Keep talking. It’s kinda nice”

Physical touch is another adjustment for him. You’re always leaning into him holding his hand or draping yourself over his shoulder and while he’s not the most physically expressive person he doesn’t mind it. In fact he starts to crave the warmth of your presence though he’d never outright say it

Sometimes though you pull away suddenly like when you’ve been curled up against his side during a lazy day of gaming. You’ll sit up or move to the other side of the couch a little self-conscious. Nagi notices right away and glances at you his expression unreadable

“Why’d you move” he asks his tone nonchalant though there’s a hint of curiosity in his voice “I just… I don’t want to be a bother” you admit avoiding his gaze. Nagi sighs softly setting down his controller “You’re not a bother” he says simply pulling you back to him with surprising gentleness. “You’re comfy. Don’t overthink it”

Quality time with Nagi is less about doing something grand and more about enjoying the quiet moments together. He’s perfectly content lying on the couch with you watching random videos or playing games while you talk about whatever’s on your mind. Sometimes he’ll pause his game just to listen to you more closely a small barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips

If you ever try to tone yourself down or give him space because you think you’re overwhelming him Nagi is quick to call you out in his own way “Why’re you being so quiet today” he asks one afternoon peeking at you from the corner of his eye

“I didn’t want to annoy you” you reply fiddling with your hands. Nagi sighs again this time more dramatically “You’re not annoying. You’re kinda the opposite actually. It’d be a pain if you stopped being yourself”

Sae Itoshi

He listens to you more than you realize. When you’re excitedly talking about your day or sharing a random story he doesn’t interrupt. He might offer a quiet “Hmm” or “Is that so” to show he’s listening but his responses are subtle. Sometimes you notice his lack of reaction and start to feel self-conscious

“Sorry I must be annoying” you mumble mid-sentence suddenly pulling back. Sae’s gaze sharpens slightly as he looks at you “You’re not annoying. If you were I’d tell you” His blunt honesty catches you off guard but it’s also strangely comforting

Physical touch is something Sae doesn’t quite know how to deal with at first. You’re always finding ways to be close to him draping yourself over his shoulder or reaching for his hand. He doesn’t pull away but he doesn’t reciprocate much either not because he doesn’t like it but because he’s not sure how to show it

But then there are moments when you pull away thinking you’re being too much. Like when you’ve been leaning on him during a quiet evening and suddenly sit up creating distance. Sae notices immediately

“What are you doing” he asks his tone calm but with a hint of curiosity “I just didn’t want to bother you” you say avoiding his gaze. Sae exhales softly shaking his head “If you were bothering me I’d say something. You don’t have to stop” His words are matter-of-fact but they hold an underlying sincerity that makes your chest feel lighter

Spending quality time with Sae looks a bit different. He’s not the type to plan elaborate dates or go out of his way to entertain you but he values the quiet moments you spend together. Whether it’s sitting beside him while he watches a match or walking together in comfortable silence he appreciates your presence even if he doesn’t always say it.

When you’re unusually quiet Sae notices right away. “Why aren’t you talking” he asks one day his tone almost teasing. You hesitate before answering “I just didn’t want to annoy you.”

Sae sighs softly turning to meet your eyes “You don’t annoy me. If I didn’t like being around you I wouldn’t be here”

Kaiser Michael

He’s an active participant in your endless chatter. Whether you’re recounting a random memory or diving into an elaborate story he listens intently often throwing in witty remarks or teasing comments to keep the conversation lively

“You really don’t stop talking do you” he says one day smirking as he leans closer. Before you can apologize or feel embarrassed he adds “Good. It’d be boring otherwise”

Physical touch is something Kaiser welcomes wholeheartedly. In fact he often takes the lead when it comes to affection. He’s the type to casually drape his arm around your shoulders pull you into his lap or grab your hand just because he feels like it. He thrives on being close to you and makes sure you know it

But then there are moments when you pull away suddenly like when you’re leaning against him during a quiet moment and decide to sit up creating some space. Kaiser notices instantly and his confident demeanor shifts ever so slightly

“Where are you going” he asks his tone playful but his eyes hold a flicker of genuine curiosity “I didn’t want to bother you” you mumble avoiding his gaze

Kaiser scoffs lightly shaking his head. “You? Bothering me? Don’t be ridiculous.” He reaches for your hand pulling you back to him “I like having you close. Stop overthinking”

Spending quality time with Kaiser is anything but dull. He enjoys taking you out to exciting places fancy restaurants spontaneous trips or even just a scenic walk because he loves seeing your eyes light up. At the same time he’s perfectly happy lounging with you watching a movie or simply lying around while you talk his head resting on your lap as you absentmindedly play with his hair

When you’re unusually quiet he notices right away “Alright what’s going on” he asks his tone somewhere between teasing and concerned “Nothing” you reply quickly “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow leaning closer. “Overwhelm me? Please. I can handle you and more” He grins leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your forehead “I like you just the way you are so don’t hold back”

Enjoy!

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[kitab00m101]

Holy- HOW IS THIS SO TRAUMATIZING (OP I LOVE YOU FOR THIS)

Adding onto some of them with headcanons of my own (TW selfharm-death-mental illness-blood❗️)-

Scott's skin bubbling and shifting constantly since he hasn't learned to control it yet. Grabbing at his own neck, almost strangling himself as he tries to press the gills shut. He can't think clearly, because he's never getting enough oxygen, even if he ever were to see water, he's damaged his gills so severely that he'll never properly breathe again, like so many people take for granted.

Not many people know this, but Jimmy is covered in bruises. When invisible, he trips over himself, bumps into things, as well as other people bumping into him. He's got a handful of bruises here and there because of that, but that's not why every inch of his arms and legs are black and blue. The panic he felt the first time he turned never really went away. Sometimes he'll wake up invisible, and for moments will forget about his ability. Sometimes, when he's in a really bad state, he'll hurt himself. He'll grab his arms tightly for hours on end, just reassure that they are actually there. His friends just assume that the bad people are rougher with Jimmy because he's usually more "rambunctious".

Imagine Martyn being put in isolation, with sound proof barriers when he gets his ability because the facility doesn't want him hearing things he shouldn't. He goes mad in. There are chips in his ears from him clawing at them. He's missing tufts of his hair. He used to scream so much when he first got his power, to the point where now his voice is permanently broken and wheezy. He used to hope that if he was loud enough, desperate enough, his cries could overpower All. That. Noise.

Imagine Ren subconsciously shifting to have certain features from Martyn, creeping out all their other friends, but they never tell him that. They know that he's been broken ever since they took Martyn away from him. As the months go on, Ren starts to forget his own features- but it doesn't matter. All he has to do is remember Martyn. His hair, his eyes, his smile. Ren doesn't have a smile of his own anymore, because the last time he smiled was at Martyn. He smiled back.

Scar finding out his power, and jokingly shadow boxing, saying how he's gonna take down any guard who messes with him or his friends- Then someone comes up behind him, and mid-punch he turns around, his fist making contact with Mumbo's shoulder. Scar freezes, but it's too late. Mumbo flies meters away, thrown to the ground. His arm is barely even connected to his body, there's blood pouring out of his mouth. Scar rushes to his friend's side, and goes pale at the sight of the man's flattened ribcage.

Later on, Cleo shoving the mindless corpses of Skizz and Mumbo around, acting like she could bully them into being normal again. Through the hallways, you can sometimes hear her crying- "Look at me- look at me Skizz!" "NO, No, no, no- Mumbo, I can fix you- I promise, just please lift up your head" "you're gonna be okay- you can still be with us, you don't have to go..."

The first time BigB summons a creaking, he's being escorted by a guard through a hall. He hears the footsteps coming up to them, and meets the creature’s eyes. The guard opens fire, only causing bullets to ricochet off its bark, while BigB stands there, never pulling his eyes from the creaking monster. He blinks for a millisecond, turning to run, and that's when he heard the guard's final breath. BigB watched as the branch through the man's chest lowered him to the ground. The creaking just kept looking at BigB, and it took him ages too long to realize that it would hurt everyone around but him.

Imagine Gem looking over her shoulder, and seeing Mumbo and Skizz for the first time in... too long. Shutting her eyes and contuining to walk. Calling herself crazy as tears start to form, until she feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks back and sees her own body, crumbled to the ground. When she uses her powers, her eyes seem to disappear, almost like Grian's black, void like eyes. She spends hours of her day crying into Skizz's arms while Mumbo tries his very hardest to give her words of comfort.

Tango's heart is always beating too fast, to the point where it'll start to hurt. The running helps relieve the pain, but it doesn't go away. When trapped in his cell, the camera's frame rate can't keep up with him. The screens in the security camera room just show four orange figures that change every could seconds, all of them with expressions of rage or desperation.

Lizzie attempting to make her escape, but as she runs down the halls, the screams of panicked from her friends disorient her. The guards eventually find her banging on the steel door of Joel's cell, screaming that she's sorry.

Imagine seeing Pearl with raw finger tips, sometimes with her entire palm covered in her own blood, and having no clue as to why until you walk into her cell, and see the claw marks in the concrete ceiling. Engravings from every time she'd had a breakdown and tried so hard to get to the open sky.

Etho always keeping his hands behind his back or in his pockets so the very thought of using his ability never crosses his mind.

Imagine Grian trying out each of his friends powers, and having to go through each and every single one of these torturous moments.

I JUST HAD A REALLY COOL IDEA FOR AN AU BASED ON THE NEW WILD LIFE EPISODE. HEAVY(?) ANGST UP AHEAD AND ALSO SPOILERS TO SESSION 7 SO BE WARNED!

LIFE SERIES MEMBERS BUT THEY GOT THEIR POWERS FROM LAB EXPERIMENTATION!!!!!

Okay I'm switching to lowercase so I'm not just screaming at you guys haha

[EDIT] Guess who’s fully elaborating on this AU with Subject files and a fic? :3

Project X Master Post

===============================

Imagine Martyn curled up in the corner of his cell, covering his ears bc he doesn't know how to block things out and everything is so loud.

Imagine Scott transforming from an aquatic creature back to his regular form, but he still has gills, and he panics when he can't breathe.

Imagine Jimmy turning in invisible for the first time and not knowing how to turn back, and he thinks he's stuck that way forever.

Imagine Ren transforming the first few times, but there's always something off about him. He looks eerie, like something from uncanny valley.

Imagine Scar not knowing his own strength and jokingly punching Mumbo, only to send him flying into the wall and causing his death.

Imagine Cleo trying so hard to get Mumbo and Skizz to act the way that they used to when she summons them, but it's never truly them. Something is always wrong.

Imagine BigB being terrified when he summons the creaking for the first time, not realizing they're on his side and thinking they'll attack him.

Imagine Gem astral projecting as an escapism, talking to Mumbo and Skizz and "leaving" the facility, but she can't truly leave.

Imagine Impulse and Tango nearly getting to escape with their powers, their friends cheering them on from inside their cells, and just when they're in the clear, Impulse gets tranquilized and falls unconscious. Tango can't bare to leave his buddy behind. They both get collars that block their abilities and heavy monitoring after that stunt.

Lizzie feels bad about her power. She's tried to escape as well, but when she realized the blindness affected her friends, it freaked her out so much that security was able to catch up to her and take her back to her cell.

Imagine Bdubs sleeping diligently through every night and dealing with nightmares of the hell they've all been put through so his friends don't.

Imagine Pearl wishing she could fly out in the open air, desperate for that kind of freedom that she knows she will never have.

Imagine Etho trying to bring down his mace to pretend to hit Bdubs, and when he move to the side to dodge, it actually puts him in the way of Etho's strike. The absolute terror that fills Etho is so bad that he never jokes like that again, even if it barely hurt him.

Imagine Joel looking around and analyzing the rooms, thinking of how he could scale the walls with his ability to escape through an air vent, but he can never bring himself to do it because he refuses to leave Lizzie.

Imagine Grian being physically and emotionally strained trying to learn everyone's powers and how to properly use them, wishing he just had one of his own instead.

Imagine Skizz and Mumbo both dying (Skizz due to the intense tests and Mumbo due to the effects the testing had on Scar) before they had a chance to gain powers of their own. Don't imagine those powers being just what the group needs to escape.

===============================

I think I might write each of these as a one shot. That would certainly be a LOT of fun :) lmk what you guys think please!

[leonw4nter]

I Love My Wife!!!

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

A downside to being one of the DSO’s top performing and most trusted agents since 1999 is to be entrusted with handling the new generation of fresh-faced recruits, training them in all aspects necessary to become the next best assets the government has in their fight against BOWs. With each new generation he trains, their slang only gets weirder as they get younger; just the other day, they called him ‘mama’ and said that ‘a girl behind you’. He looks back and sees no one, much to his pupils’ amusement and his ever-increasing confusion.

“What the hell does that mean now?” He asks Hunnigan over lunch before he takes a bite from the egg sandwich you prepared for him. “I never told them about the baby announcement and she didn’t visit yesterday.”

“Oh you know, it’s the kids’ slang. They don’t even make sense anymore,” she says with a restrained smile. “They don’t really mean anything, you just need to see the videos that provide the context but each time the context doesn’t even make sense.”

“Kids these days,” he mumbles as he shakes his head. His blond-turned-brown locks sway with the slight movement.

“Oh relax, you were their age once.” The communications expert agent teases.

“Yes, but our slang was never this nonsensical,” he retorts. “If you guessed smart enough you could figure out what the words actually meant back in ‘98.”

“Good point,” she agrees before digging into her salad. “They’re bringing back everything from the late 90s though: low-rise pants, flared jeans, mini shoulder bags, and so much more that I thought we left behind in the past.”

Lunch continued on smoothly with small conversations in between bites of sandwich and sips of soda. The phone on Leon’s chest pocket buzzed to life, an illuminated rectangle revealed behind thin cloth. Wiping his hands, he fishes it out and checks the caller ID.

“Gotta take this one,” he says as he gets up from the table. “She’s calling.”

He walks outside of the store and into a not-so-busy sidewalk, not letting his phone ring for a little longer.

“Hey sweetpea,” he says. “How’s your day goin’?”

He vividly visualizes your smile right before you speak. “Oh y’know, it’s great. Yours?”

“It’s been great too,” he can’t resist but let a smile tug the corner of his lips upward. “Why’d you call? Need anything?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘P’ sound. “Just wanted to hear your voice today. Stupid reason, I know.”

“No, it’s not stupid sweetheart. I wanted to hear your voice too,” he softly responds. “Day’s going to be busy for me: bigwigs are making me teach theoreticals to the rookies today, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. They’re always boring.”

“I’ve never sat through one of your lessons but it already sounds boring,” you comment with a dramatic sigh.

“Are you saying that my teaching is boring?” He asks, voice laced with feigned offense.

“Well…” you trail off, breaking into a small giggle.

“You just broke my heart, ouch.”

“Kidding!” You swiftly respond even though you know his feelings were never hurt in the first place. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“That’s why I’m your husband.”

“Okay, that’s enough cheesiness for today mister. That’s all, you can get back to your lunch now.”

“That was just one joke,” he points out. “Okay, I’ll get back inside and demolish the rest of the sandwich you made me. Take care of yourself and the baby for me while I’m at work, okay honey?”

“Yes, I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay, that’s great. You end the call, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.”

The call ends so he brings his phone away from his ear, lovingly taking a moment to admire your beaming self saved as his contact photo– you, bundled in dense scarves and insulating layers, smiling brightly at him in the middle of a street covered in crunchy white now. He walks back in the shop, taking his seat to finish up the rest of his snack and energize for the long day that is yet to unfurl.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Nightfall has finally seized the day, the absence of the sun in the sky prompting Leon to swiftly pack his belongings and drive home to his darling wife. Just as he finally zips his laptop sleeve, his coworker Patrick leans on his cubicle and starts talking.

“Got any plans?” A loaded question.

“Yeah,” he says as he locks his drawer. “Stayin’ home with the missus and watching TV.”

“Me and the others are going out for drinks tonight. It’s been a week and I think we all deserve to unwind, no?”

“Mhm,” Leon hums absent-mindedly as he makes sure that there’s nothing plugged on his desk.

“C’mon, man. A drink or two with us won’t hurt, we’ll be at a bar a few minutes away from here. Drinks are on Miller and Ronson,” Patrick adds. Leon hasn’t touched a glass of alcohol in months, his previous alcohol issue and current sobriety progress kept secret amongst his most trusted circle. Patrick, and the rest of the agency, is oblivious to his relationship with alcohol.

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll definitely pass,” the seasoned agent coolly says as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “Bars aren’t really my scene.”

The curly-haired agent’s shoulders slumped but he took Leon’s answer, gaze trailing after him as he neared the door.

“If you’ll be in here a little longer, don’t forget to shut the lights on your way out.”

Patrick’s back straightens up and nods, following after Leon since he doesn’t have any business to do in the room now that Leon’s made his mind on heading straight to home.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The ringing of the doorbell shifts your attention from laying out skincare materials on the kitchen island, face masks and other sheets cool from being kept in the fridge. You excitedly skip over to the front door, walking normally on the remaining half of the lap because ever since that test showed positive, you’ve been a lot more susceptible for motion sickness.

“Welcome home sweetie pie,” you greet your husband in a silvery singsong voice as you engulf him in a hug of unmeasurable comfort. He leans into your touch, melting in the middle of your arms as he returns a hug of his own.

“Missed you s’much,” his voice muffled from his face burrowed in the crook of your neck. His arms encircling your frame tightens slightly, wordlessly communicating his yearning for your affectionate touches.

“Tired?” You ask as you pull away from the hug and invite him in, keeping him company by the doorstep as he takes off his coat and shoes.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “Didn’t do anything physical today but y’know, it’s still a pretty draining workday today.”

“A coworker invited me for drinks in town after work hours ended but I declined,” he adds before he could forget. “That could never match up to a night staying in with you.”

“It’s nice that they thought of inviting you. That's progress from everyone aside from Hunnigan being intimidated and too scared to approach you,” you point out. “Anyway, I got a surprise for you!”

One glance at your glowing smile and infectious elation soothes your husband’s spirit, giving him an added boost of energy. “Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise for a reason, dummy. Freshen up first and I’ll show you. Close your eyes when you pass by the kitchen!”

“Gotta hold my hand first, I might bump into something and seriously concuss myself.”

“Leon we’ve lived in this house for 4 years, you know the layout like the back of your hand.” Despite that, you still take his hand and lead him.

He’s finally freshened up, now wearing a worn-out sleep shirt paired with Batman pajama bottoms. His head rests on your lap, your fingers idly playing with his silky soft tresses as you watch one of those corny reality TV shows about finding love on boats– or tropical cruise getaways, you corrected him moments ago; he makes more than enough money to spoil you to a tropical cruise so he makes a mental note to start some research while you’re asleep. His hair is kept away from his face by a fuzzy Mike Wazowski headband, matching with your own fuzzy Sully headband as chilled face masks rest on your faces. There’s sliced cucumbers resting on his eyes and a jelly lip mask on his already-perfect lips, challenging his resolve to stay awake and listen to you rant about Basic White Man with A Beard and A Tan #3’s stupid decision. Playing with his hair is tempting him to fall asleep but carefully scratching his scalp while you’re at it? It’s like you’re commanding him to drift off to Dreamland ASAP.

“Man, I love my wife,” Leon quietly murmurs to himself before he’s out cold, snoring deeply. Despite your yapping, you didn’t miss his words and blush to yourself. He must’ve had a truly exhausting day so you lay a blanket over his sleeping frame and turn the TV off.

“Hey, do you know what ‘mama a girl behind you’ means? I’ve been hearing it from my trainees all day.”

NOTES - yipee, first di!leon fic in... 7 months :0 ?!?!?! this fic is pretty much just stream of consciousness, i wrote the fic + formatted the post while listening to ASMR and actively fighting off sleep (it's quarter to 4AM in my area uyurhgrh). i kept repeating 'mama a girl behind YOU 💜' in my head randomly so i was like "hey yk what why not add that into my fic heehee so silly :D" and thus this fic was conceived. also guys i read on twitter that re9 takes place 4 years after re:village and since leon's there... we're going to see his chronological appearance which also means he'll look old... mmm yummy :3 and he's dripped out similarly to re:damnation... mmm yummy :3 also my nail is peeling off so imma have to lay off of nail polish for a bit aw :'( anyways, thank you to everyone supporting me and reading my fics!!!!!!!! I <3333333333 UUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers (hearts and support banner) are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[fl3shm4id3n]

could you do a fic where thanos finds out fem reader self-harms?? or like he notices fresh scars 😭😭 make it fluffy/ or angst, and do whatever u want

ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SENSETIVE TOPIC, talks about self harming/cutting, worried Thanos, talks about substances/drug abuse, swearing, comfort at the end.

Masterlist

You've managed to sneak a blade into the games, you knew how to hide them without them getting spotted. Every bathroom break you'd go to, you always gave yourself a small cut, whether it was on your thigh or arm. You had stopped harming yourself, but your debts and the stress that came it, made you harm yourself again. Even more since you've been playing these games. You didn't want to die, you wanted to go home. But you were prevented from leaving since people wanted to continue playing and add more money to the piggy bank. The stress was killing you, the cuts became more frequent, you had began to harm yourself under your covers when the lights went out.

After the mingle game, you were anxious. Even worried. You couldn't help but fidget your hands. What if the next game was even more deadly than the last. What if you got killed? That made you even more anxious. You continued to fidget your hands, every now and then your caress your fresh cuts on your wrist. You wanted to go to the bathroom badly, desperate to do a cut just to ease your nerves. Thanos then approached you and leaned his body against the wall. "Why are you here alone?" He couldn't help but ask, you looked up at him. Still anxious. Thanos tilted his head to the side. "You're a shy one huh?" He asked. "Come on. Let's go and make you some friends." He said, grabbing a hold of your of your wrist, you then let out a painful hiss.

Thanos looked at you, both confused and worried. "What? Did I hurt you?" He asked, he then looked down at your wrist and noticed something. He didn't hesitate and began to pull the sleeve of your jacket up. "No, don't-" You tried to say, but it was late. Your sleeve was pulled up. Thanos looked at your arm. Seen the many scars and fresh cuts. "What the fuck are these?" He asked, he sounded angry. All you could do was look down at the ground, ashamed.

Next thing you were. You were in the bathroom with Thanos. He was cleaning up your wounds with the water from the silk. It was quiet, very quiet. The tension was obvious. "Why do you do it?" Thanos asked, but you didn't respond. Thanos then grabbed a paper towel and began to clean the water off your arm. "You do know this can kill you? What if you were to cut a veil and you bleed to death? Then what?" He asked, still upset. "What about you? You take drugs as if they're candy. Drugs can kill you too ya know." You said, almost defensive.

"This isn't about me, it's about you. How did you even sneak a blade in here? How did they not take it away with your stuff." He wondered. You went quiet again. Not wanting to say a word. Once he was finished cleaning your cuts, he pulled your sleeve down. He then held out his hand. "Give me." He demanded, you looked at him confused. "Give you what?" You asked. "Don't play dumb, give me the blades. Now." He said, more demanding. As much as you didn't want to, you did. You gave him the small razor blades, placing them on his hand. "All of them." He said, you sighed. Then reached into your mouth, under your tongue and carefully took out the last one. And placed it in his hand.

Thanos then went over and threw the blades in the toilet and flushed them. You just stood there, still ashamed. He made sure that they all flushed down. He then walked over to you and looked at you. "Don't do that shit again you hear?" He said, almost scolding you like a child. You didn't respond, you just kept your head down. Thanos then placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned down a bit to try to look at your eyes. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. You hurting yourself won't solve anything." He said, then he pulled you into a tight hug. "You are cared for. You are loved." He said as he hugged you. You didn't really know him, yet he was here acting like you have been friends for decades. He then pulled away and looked at you. "Stick with me okay? You don't have to be alone in this okay?" He said, but before you could respond, he pulled you into a tight hug again. Maybe that's what you needed, someone to talk to. You slowly hugged him back. Happy to know that someone is willing to help you.

[orphicmusings]

this is so self indulgent but i love the idea of modern!viktor with reader who is more artistic/humanities inclined rather than stem…museum dates are a staple, obviously, whether they’re art or history, you walk hand in hand and sit on the little benches when you need a break and talk about your favorite parts (he loves seeing artifacts and antiques!!!) and he loves that he gets to hear you gush about each subject you come across and watch your eyes flicker with absolute light as you learn more and more, the passion for it being the best thing the two of you share other than your love for each other.

and then he’ll take you to one of those science discovery places, and he loves to freak you out with gnarly facts and will spend an hour in the planetarium with you if they let you, mapping out the constellations in the dim light in your own little journals, pretending you’re ancient astrologers. one time, on a particularly slow day, due to the relaxing music and general ambience, you both had fallen asleep in there— your head on his shoulder, his head on top of yours, and a staff member found you about a half hour before closing.

spoiling your partner with fine things such as designer clothes and jewelry is great, and he would if you wanted it, but to him? the most fun he’ll ever have spoiling you is watching you go absolutely ham in a bookstore. following behind you through the shelves with a basket to collect your pile, and you making sure you’re picking out a few you can read together (you reading aloud to him to get his mind to quiet down enough for him for fall asleep—he loves jane austen). seeing you geek out over limited edition covers of classics, dracula, frankenstein (which you affectionately call him, viktor frankenstein, when he is particularly too stubborn to leave his lab), greek myths, shakespeare, even if you already have a copy, he’ll buy you this one simply because it looks better on your joint bookshelf.

and if you ever doubt your intelligence in comparison to his? after trying to figure out something mathematical and handing it to him and him getting it done within seconds? even muttering a “right, sorry, i’m stupid” as a kneejerk reaction to existing in a lifetime of academic settings where stem is prioritized as The Smart People Subject and the humanities are only there as frivolous endeavors— will earn you the most disappointed look. “do not talk about yourself like that, my darling. i mean it.” he tells you firmly, getting more annoyed at you putting yourself down than he ever would with you asking him for help. oh, and if you were feeling particularly self deprecating and decided to go back at him?

god have mercy on you as he has you reading and retaining information from dense texts to him as he’s buried between your thighs, just to prove you can do what he couldn’t.

“mhm, and what have we learned?”

“that…” you caught your breath. “orpheus actually proved he loved eurydice by-“

“no.” he chided gently with a breathy smirk of his own. “that my love is entirely capable, and skilled, the most clever little darling i know…yes?”

you can’t stop the bashful smile that pulls at your lips and the heat that dusts your cheeks when you answer in affirmation.

[gor3-hound]

KISS AND MAKE UP — NAOYA + TOJI

a/n: another commission for my faveeee @nexysworld. MWAH. just a heads up, naoya is referred to as reader n toji’s cousin just cause second cousin sounded weird in writing idk.

cw: 18+ content. daddy-daughter incest (toji), cousin incest (toji/naoya-ish. naoya/reader). threats + slapping (directed at naoya). misogyny. kinda maybe brief dub-con. p in v. oral (f + m receiving). fem!reader. slapping. hair pulling. creampie.

2.8k words

Your dad has been gone for the better part of a week when he decides to wander into the house one morning — surprisingly early giving his typical track record of showing up well past midnight. You’re nursing a cup of coffee, nodding in greeting as his gaze lands on you.

“My cousin is coming over later.” Toji huffs as soon as he steps into the kitchen, lazily leaning against the doorway. Irritation is written all over his features. “Play nice, y'hear? I don't need gramps bitchin’ at me. Y'know what Naoya is like with his daddy.”

Naoya. The mention of his name alone is enough to have you scowling, your expression twisting in a similar manner to Toji’s. That only seems to annoy your father further, an exasperated sigh spilling past his lips. “N’ don’t give me that look, kid. Or him, for that matter. I ain’t dealin’ with another one of his rants about how I raised my daughter with a shitty attitude.”

“He thinks any woman who breathes too loud isn’t raised right.” You counter, huffing as you set your coffee down on your counter.

“Ain’t my problem,” your dad replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “You only have to see him once or twice a year. Suck it up.”

“How long is he even staying?”

Toji is an asshole, but he isn’t evil. He feels a little bad, considering how much you and your cousin tend to butt heads. His lips thin at your question, pressing together as he walks over to ruffle your hair and pull you against his side. “Couple ‘a days. Sorry, kid.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Naoya’s gotten at least a hundred times worse since you last saw him. It’d been a year or so since you were forced to be in his presence for more than an hour at a time, and now that he’s hit his twenties and has been getting more duties in the clan, he seems to think he’s God’s greatest gift. He’s not even a full-year older than you, and yet he loves giving you the whole ‘respect your elders, girl’ spiel everytime you so much as frown in his presence.

He’s been here for a day, and you’re already counting down the minutes until he leaves. Your dad said an important job came up — an excuse to escape Naoya, you’re certain — so you don’t even have him to try and attempt to get Naoya to ease up.

You might genuinely go insane before your dad decides to show up again. If you hear him say that you ‘missed a spot’ while making you clean up his mess one more goddamn time, you’re going to end up in a cell.

“If I’m going to cook for you,” you say in a low tone, swallowing thickly to attempt not to snap. If only to save the lecture you’d inevitably get from Naoya, then your father, and then the head of the clan when Naoya eventually went whining to his dad. “You can at least take the plate to the kitchen after.” “And why should I?” He scoffs, that insufferable grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he regards you with an icy stare. “You’re here. Isn’t this kind of thing the purpose of your… species?”

The muscle of your jaw ticks at his words. You can’t even muster up the strength to force a polite smile on your face, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. Better to act like a proper lady than retaliate and have him being even more insufferable than usual. Your silence almost seems to piss him off more — you’re starting to think he gets a rise out of seeing you act out.

“You know, the women of this family are disgraceful.” He continues. “Not one of you was raised with proper manners. My father is too soft on all of you. When I am head of this clan, I plan to—”

“Please. Your own dad thinks you’re an asshole. He’s just waiting for an excuse to pass it onto someone else. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” You bite out, unable to hold your tongue any longer.

Silence fills the room for a few tense seconds. Naoya just… blinks at you, shock written over his features. Shock quickly turns to disbelief, as if the thought of you talking back to him was completely out of his realm of possibility. “Pathetic. You can’t even hear simple facts without growing emotional. The audacity you have to speak to me in such a way is…”

He trails off, lips curling into a sneer as he looks at you. “You should consider yourself lucky I even allow you to speak in my presence, you insolent little—”

“One more fuckin’ word.” The cold voice that cuts through Naoya’s words aren’t your own, but it is a voice you immediately recognise. Your head turns to face your father, the man standing in the doorway with a stony expression.

“I’ve done nothing wrong.” Naoya replies, though you don’t miss the slight waver in his voice.”I was simply correcting the behaviour you refuse to address. My father wouldn’t stand for this treatment of the heir of the—”

“Apologise to my fuckin’ daughter, or I’ll send you back to your daddy in a body bag, kid.” The words aren’t an empty threat — something you and Naoya seem to realise at the exact same time. You watch closely as your cousin swallows his pride, gaze falling to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, words barely audible. It’s a pathetic attempt, really. One your own father isn’t nearly satisfied with.

“Oh, now you wanna keep quiet, huh? Known you since you were a fuckin’ infant, and I’ve never known you to to know when to shut the fuck up. Say sorry properly.” Toji snaps. Naoya opens his mouth to give another half-hearted apology, but Toji is faster as he speaks up again. “Better be a good one.”

Your dad pauses briefly to think, then he’s stepping closer. “Y’know what? I think you should show you’re really sincere. Get on your knees, and say sorry to my kid.”

Naoya does an exceptionally good impression of a fish — mouth opening and closing multiple times as he stares blankly up at Toji. “You… You can’t be serious.”

“Don’t fuckin’ try me today. I’ve had shitty luck with the races, and I’d love to blow off some steam. I’m sick of you and that old man treatin’ us like shit.”

Naoya swallows hard, slowly rising from your battered sofa. He shifts slightly towards you, refusing to meet your gaze as he sinks down to his knees on the floor. “I apologise.”

“Better,” Toji hums, moving to stand behind you, guiding you to the spot Naoya was just sitting. He’s practically kneeling at your feet now, expression indecipherable. “Sit down, baby. Let’s get him to make it up to you, yeah?”

The tone of voice makes you shiver, eyes flicking up to your dad’s face. Between his soft coo and the way he’s looking at you, you feel your cheeks heat. It’s a familiar expression, but never one you’ve received when in the company of others. “Spread your legs for me, good girl.”

Naoya’s head snaps up then, eyes wide as he looks at Toji. You’re unable to school your own expression as you gaze down at Naoya, taking in the way he’s acting. You can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, finally having him knocked down a few pegs. You swallow the lump forming in your throat, your heart fluttering nervously as you follow your dad’s command. 

“Show her how sorry you really are, hmm?” Toji purrs, all low as he takes a handful of Naoya’s dyed hair, forcing his face against your clothed cunt. He stiffens, but then he’s quickly melting against you, nuzzling closer to your heat. 

“Not so talkative now.” Toji scoffs, squatting down as he uses his grip as leverage to make Naoya rub against you more. The action draws a soft whine from the back of your throat, your head falling back against the sofa. “Got you actin’ like a well-trained dog, just from the scent of some pussy? You really have that much trouble gettin’ girls in bed, huh?”

Naoya bristles at his words, but he’s visibly more docile than usual as he allows Toji to guide him against you. You’re getting impatient yourself now, squirming against the cushions. 

“You want a taste, cousin?” And Naoya nods within seconds, eagerly opening his mouth and exhaling harshly. The hot air fans against the damp fabric of your panties in a way that instantly has heat shooting to your core. “Always bein’ a fuckin’ brat, think you even deserve it?”

Toji pulls Naoya back, and you find satisfaction in the pathetic little whine he lets out, even if you find yourself immediately missing his presence between your legs. 

“Daddy, please.” You breathe, voice a mix of needy and pleading. You instantly see the way he softens — something you only ever really get the luxury of seeing — before he lets go of Naoya’s hair. 

“Go on, then.” Toji murmurs, and Naoya doesn’t even blink before his fingers are desperately grasping at your skirt, bunching up the fabric at your waist and tugging your panties to the side before he dives in. 

A low, breathless ‘fuck’ spills past his lips as his tongue licks a long, wet stripe along your dripping cunt, collecting the wetness that had gathered there. He groans against you, nose nudging at your clit as he tongue-fucks you in earnest. His lashes flutter as he gazes up at you, the taste of you making him feel a little light-headed. 

You’ve never seen him so invested in anything. He has a lazy sort of arrogance that follows his every action, but he looks like nothing more than an over-excited puppy as he laps at you with an almost feverish intensity. His eyes are heavy lidded, fingers gripping onto your legs with a harshness that makes you think you’ll be left with bruises as a reminder of what happened. 

“Make her cum, and I might even let you have a treat,” Toji teases. Your peak is rapidly approaching by the time his voice takes your attention away from Naoya. You’d almost forgotten your dad was only feet away, watching the both of you closely. He’s clearly enjoying this — if the tent stretching his pants obscenely was anything to go by. 

Naoya is only spurred on by his words, dragging his mouth upwards until his lips suction around your clit. He sucks eagerly, tongue flicking against the swollen bud until you’re writhing and crying out beneath him. The way Toji sees it, the two of you have never gotten on so well. 

“Nao, please… need… just a little more.” You babble, hand reaching down to tug at his hair. He moans against you, tongue pressing flat against your clit. Your thighs clench around his head, body tensing as you gush all over his tongue. He keeps licking until he’s tugged away, hazy-eyed and hard as a rock. 

“My… treat?” Naoya mutters hoarsely. He’s never one to miss out on… anything that benefits him, really. He’s twitching in his trousers, leaking pre-cum steadily, and he’s just about ready to accept anything that’ll let him get off.

“Always an impatient brat.” Toji says under his breath, large hands coming down to position you on the sofa — hands and knees against the cushions — before stripping off his pants and boxers. “Think Naoya’s sorry, baby. Wanna return the favour while daddy has a turn on your pretty little pussy?”

You’re still panting from your previous orgasm, but the idea of being stuffed from both ends has your cunt pulsing. You flinch a little as your dad slides into you, whimpering softly as your walls flutter around him. You’re still sensitive, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans. 

“Aww, cute. Tryna be quiet, baby?” Toji coos, thrusting forward hard, just once, to make you squeal. “Naoya can help with that, yeah? Gonna let him fill that mouth?”

You nod, and Naoya considers that permission. You’ve never seen someone move so fast, his hands hastily pulling at his clothes. He slides onto the couch, kneeling in front of you. 

The only issue with his mouth no longer being preoccupied is he’s now capable of speaking again, and he makes that known to the entire room. He slowly slides his length past your lips, head titling back as the tight, wet heat of your mouth engulfs him. 

“Fuck, that’s good. I knew there had to be a reason my cousin kept you around, considering how useless you are at everything else.” As soon as the words leave his lips, the sharp, harsh sound of skin of skin fills the room. You don’t realise what happened at first, but Toji hips stutter at the exact moment Naoya lets out a sharp hiss of pain. 

Your dad hit him. Hard enough to have his cheek glowing red, his head cocked to the side from the force of the smack. You expect a tantrum, another speech. You get neither. 

His hips buck so violently his cock lodges itself deep in your throat, making you gag. Your eyes water at you look up at him, his pupils blown as a smug smile stretches across his face. 

“Weird little freak.” Your dad grunts, still fucking into you with further. His hands find your hips, pulling you back against his thrusts as you drool eagerly all over Naoya’s cock. 

“Guilty,” Naoya purrs in reply, words cocky and self-assured as he threads his hands in your hair to hold you steady, giving him the leverage he needs to fuck your face. 

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth when you’re talkin’ to my daughter, or I’ll make you sit in the corner and watch me play with her instead.” Toji growls. 

At least that seems to quieten him down, if only so he doesn’t have to give up the pleasure your mouth is bringing him. Naoya’s thighs begin to twitch at the same time his grip in your hair tightens. You work harder at licking along his length, sucking eagerly as he fucks your throat. 

“Come… coming, fuck.” Naoya hisses, forces the entirety of his length down your throat. You choke as his seed fills your throat, unable to do anything but swallow with your nose pressed firmly against his pelvis. You cough and splutter when he finally pulls out, a mix of cum and spit coating your lips and chin as he collapses in the corner of the couch. 

He watches lazily as your dad fucks you. Toji takes the opportunity to push your chest into the couch, nuzzling the nape of your neck to let you hear the quiet grunts he lets out against your skin as his chest presses against your back. His grip on your hips is tight, yanking you back to meet each of his thrusts. 

His cock hits that spongy spot inside of you that has you positively mewling with each jolt of his hips, his lips hot and hungry as he trails kisses along your skin. “Fuck, baby. So pretty. Such a good girl for me, so good… go on, cum for me, sweetheart. Show Naoya how good you are for daddy.”

His words are your undoing, a broken cry leaving you as you cream around his cock, slick coating his length and dripping down his balls. He thrusts lazily a few more times, biting down on your shoulder as he cums deep inside your trembling cunt. 

You flop down almost immediately, falling boneless against the couch. Your head falls against Naoya’s thigh, chest heaving with each panting breath you let out. 

“Might as well come up here,” Naoya hums with surprising softness, arm falling away from his side languidly. It’s about as open as an invitation to snuggle as you’re going to get. 

You shift up against his body, dropping down against his chest with a tired sigh. Toji just laughs, leaning back in his heels. “Christ. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Naoya glares at him, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your eyes are already shut, and Naoya’s close a moment later. Only moments later, you’re both passed out. 

“Brats.” Toji grumbles under his breath as he pulls a throw blanket around your sleeping forms, an unmistakable fondness to his tone. 

[cognitiveoverload]

A temporary goodbye (Front Man / Hwang In-Ho x reader)

summary: The first game is about to begin, and the Front Man needs to talk to his right hand man - who happens to be a little more than that.

tags: secret relationship, established relationship, fem!reader in mind

note: I had this scene in my head and just had to write it.

You’re standing next to the Front Man in the control room in silence, patiently waiting for his orders as always. There’s a lot going on in your head, so it’s not a surprise that you find yourself stealing a glance at him more and more often, because he’s the reason why you’re a little distracted today. This is the first day of the games, and while normally it’s a routine task, this year things are different. Everyone can feel it, but very few know the reason.

“I’ll watch the first game in my room,” he suddenly announces, and before you could react, he walks away. You let out a sigh under your mask, disappointed that you can’t talk to him before he springs into action, but then he calls back, his voice cutting through the silence. “Bunny, with me.”

The mask luckily hides the wide grin that appears on your face upon hearing him say this. You were supposed to have a proper code name, but he decided that Bunny suited you more, which is why you began to use it, and he even got you a bronze rabbit mask that matched his own in style. As usual, you follow him without a question, passing by the staff members who are preparing for the first game.

In his private room, the Front Man sits in the armchair and pours himself a drink, and eventually he takes off his mask too, feeling comfortable and safe enough to let it go temporarily. You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you wait for him to show any sign that he remembers you’re there. Sometimes he gets so lost in his job that you have to remind him of your presence.

But not this time. Now he clears his throat and raises his hand to signal you to go closer. “Say it,” he orders, although his voice is gentle, as it is every time he talks to you. 

Since you’re obedient enough, you pad closer and stop by his side, a small smile creeping on your lips when you look at him. Four years. You’ve been working together for four years, but he only took off his mask around you two years ago. This was his way of showing his trust, something you truly appreciated. 

“Take off the mask, we’re alone.” He finally looks up at you, a faint smirk visible as he watches you follow his order. Once it’s placed on top of his, he sneaks an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap. “So? What’s on your mind? I can see something’s bothering you.”

Letting out a long sigh, you wrap an arm around his shoulder and lean in to give him a tentative kiss. “Are you sure about this? Joining the game, I mean,” you clarify.

In-ho lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You know perfectly well why I’m doing that. But it’s okay, you don’t have to worry,” he assures you as he rests his hand on your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin to ground you. Because he knows you. He knows you’re spiraling, he knows you think something bad will happen, which always kicks your brain into overdrive. 

“If you don’t get out in time, I’ll be stuck babysitting the VIPs,” you say with a pout.

“You’d be fine.” When you give him a sceptical look, he kisses you again, and he even moves his hand closer to your inner thigh. The moment a soft moan escapes your lips, though, he stops. “Since when do you doubt me?” he wonders, his eyes examining your face to see the reaction.

Shaking your head, you rest your forehead against his. “I don’t doubt you, I’m just… Look, I know you can protect yourself, and you thought of everything, but we don’t know what he’s planning. He’s a ticking time bomb in there,” you explain. 

“Keep an eye on the team while I’m in the game. Everything’s supposed to go smoothly, but if something happens… take care of it.” 

You nod without hesitation, after all, that’s why you’re here. That’s why you became his right hand man. What’s happening between you–the stolen moments, the shared life back home when you’re not busy preparing for the next games–is a secret you’re keeping to yourselves. You’re the only ones who should know about it, no one else. It’s personal, and if anyone knew about this connection, they could easily use it against him. 

In the beginning, you tried to resist the pull, you tried to escape his gravitational field, but then In-ho made you understand that it was okay, that you could make this work. He would make sure you can make this work. By now, you’re sure he would go to great lengths to protect you, he would get rid of anyone who ever dared to even look at you the wrong way. 

The moment is ruined when you hear the instructions of the first game, a sign that it has begun. You both turn to the screen to watch it, but his hand is still teasing you, even if it’s nothing more but a subconscious movement. The comfortable silence between you is based on the deep understanding of each other, but you’re a little startled when he speaks up, not bothering to look at you. 

“I love you, Bunny, never forget that,” he says quietly, as if he was telling this to himself. 

A warm smile crawls on your lips. “I love you too.”

[y2kas13]

Can She Stay? (Paige B. x reader)

Paige b. x dads best friend's daughter!reader

Summary: Paige goes with her dad to his best friend's house meets his daughter and quickly becomes close.

cw: fluff, rizzler paige lol, spicy but no smut, reader isn't given a set race or weight just mentions of curly hair and being on the 'thicker side' but nothing too defining y/n used srry

a/n: (I wrote this months ago and never knew how to finish so I’m gonna post it how it is if you wnat a continuation I definitely will) I'm actually from and live in CT so I'm gonna use the name of a college from here for realism its not important tho so don't worry lol thank you for tuning in to my poll for those who interacted this is technically my 2nd fic on Tumblr but my other one sucked and flopped 😭 so hopefully this is better. I appreciate interaction!

Paige was a go-getter, constantly up and running ready to take on the day and do what needed to be done.

Needless to say, she didn't want to get out of bed and go with her dad to sit around and listen to old dad jokes for the next few hours.

She loves her dad, but after weeks of training and hard work, she wants to mindlessly scroll on her phone and eat some well-deserved junk food.

"Come on Paige it'll be fun I promise it'll be worth your while. watch you'll have so much fun you won't wanna leave! now come on Paige!" Hearing her dad have so much enthusiasm trumps her feelings of wanting to stay home. She changes out of her pajamas into black loose-fitting sweatpants and a white crop-top she puts her slides on and gets in her dad's car and falls asleep.

Feeling the car come to a stop makes her open her eyes and see that they are presumably at her dad's friend's house. She rubs her eyes and stretches to wake her up. She hops out of the car and walks up to the door after her dad.

Before her dad can even finish knocking a man who looks the same age as her dad opens the door. "Bob! there you are old timer hurry up the game is coming on." He ushers them in and both Paige and her dad hurry inside.

Paige takes in the living room while her dad and his friend playfully banter with each other. Before Paige can open her mouth to say anything she hears soft footsteps coming toward the living room which causes her to look up.

"Dad, what's all that noise?"

Paige sees probably one of the prettiest girls she's seen in a while. Beautiful curly hair held out of her face by a simple headband, she's wearing a simple blue crop top similar to her own and the smallest pair of black pajama shorts she's seen in forever.

The feeling of the girl's eyes also looking her up and down causes Paige to finally stop staring and look away. "Come here baby let me introduce you!" The pretty girl steps further into the living room to stand by both dads which causes Paige to follow without even thinking. The girls' dads introduce them to each other, "This is my daughter Paigey she plays basketball at UConn she's a little star." Bob says with obvious pride in his voice which causes Paige to slightly blush and look down waving him away playfully at the nickname. This elicits a small giggle out of the girl which makes Paige smile a little harder and look up at the girl seeing that she's already looking at Paige. "This is my baby she goes to Southern and she's the student council president at her school." Pride is also evident in his words, the baby name makes the girl turn away in slight embarrassment.

The TV in the living room starts playing a loud sound alerting the dads that the game they were awaiting is finally starting so they offer that the girls should go hang out together in the girl's room. They head towards the girl's room.

"So baby huh?" Paige says with a small smirk on her lips, the name used making her laugh.

"Oh whatever Paigey," The girl rolls her eyes playfully and sits on her bed, "I have a real name you know." Paige looks around the room taking in the aesthetically pleasing room with light grey walls dark hardwood floors and posters of all her favorite shows and artists on her wall.

Paige sits down at the small dark wooded vanity now looking at the girl perched on the bed, "Care to share then princess?" the nickname princess causes the girl to spring up and look at the blonde girl at her vanity

She shares her name with Paige to which Paige compliments.

“So student council president huh? You’re a smart girl aren’t you.” Paige says with a smirk but there’s no condensation or malice in it.

The curly haired girl nods making her curls bounce and flop in her face slightly. “Yep school has always been my thing I’ve been best at.”

Paige gets up from her vanity and walk over to the bed. She looks the curly haired girl in the eyes and moves some of the hair that fell in her face. “Maybe you should come by my school and see me do what I’m best at.”