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[cosmicanakin]

╰ ﹒ (sorta) long awaited PART 2 to this DEAN BLURB. 🍋‍🟩

i'm shit at writing a second part to any standalone FICS or BLURBS so i'm rlly sorry if this isn't the 'makeup sex' type blurb yall were lookin' for <3

⎯⎯ warning(s) smut | emotional vulnerability | strong language | semi-public sex | rough sex | praise kink | dirty talk (yum) | jealousy | overstimulation | POSSESSIVE!DEAN | power dynamics | mirror sex. ఌ︎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.

the bar is loud, filled with the familiar hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. you sit at a table near the back, surrounded by a few of your close friends—hunters like you, women who know the life, know the dangers, and are just as good at blowing off steam after a successful hunt. tonight, the drinks flow easily, and the laughter comes even easier. it's rare to get a reprieve like this, to have a night off where you can just relax and enjoy yourself. you deserve it. you know you do.

but even as your friends trade stories and jokes, your mind keeps drifting. keeps circling back to him. DEAN WINCHESTER. it's been weeks since you left him in that motel room, since you walked away without an explanation, with only a hastily written note. you haven't spoken to him since, haven't called, haven't reached out. not because you didn't want to. GOD, you wanted to. but fear held you back. fear of what he felt, of what you felt, of how everything had changed with those three words he'd let slip between gasps of pleasure.

i love you.

you still hear his voice in your head, still feel the way his body had tensed beneath you when he realized what he'd said. you'd thought about calling him a hundred times, a thousand times actually, to tell him you felt the same. that the reason you ran was because you were scared—scared of how much you loved him, how deeply you'd fallen without even realizing it. but every time you picked up the phone, you hesitated, and the moment passed.

now, sitting in this bar, surrounded by friends, you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake. if walking away from him was the worst decision you could've made. but before you can spiral any further, you hear it—a laugh. a deep, familiar laugh that sends a shock of recognition through your entire body.

you freeze, your drink halfway to your lips, as you turn your head and see him. DEAN WINCHESTER. standing at the entrance of the bar, his brother, sam, by his side. dean doesn't see you at first, too busy scanning the room, probably taking in the scene out of habit, always the hunter, always alert. but then his eyes snap to yours.

it feels like the air is sucked from the room. your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, you can't move, can't breathe. he looks just like you remember—broad shoulders, brown leather jacket, that chiseled jawline you've traced with your fingers more times than you can count. but there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unresolved, and you know he's thinking about that night, about the last time you saw each other.

he doesn't move. neither do you.

but his gaze lingers on you, even as a blonde woman sidles up to him, clearly trying to get his attention. she's pretty—tall, curvy, the kind of woman who turns heads in a place like this. but dean barely spares her a glance, his eyes locked on you like he can't tear himself away. you feel a surge of something hot and uncomfortable twist in your chest—jealousy, anger, desire. god, you miss him. you miss him so much it hurts.

and it's not just him. it's the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his hands felt on your skin, rough and gentle all at once. the way he'd held you that night, the way he'd said he loved you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like he couldn’t help it.

you tear your gaze away, pretending to focus on the conversation at your table, but your mind is spinning. your body is buzzing with the awareness of him, of how close he is, of how much you want him. but the thought of facing him, of having that conversation, of admitting how you feel... it terrifies you.

so you do the only thing you can think of. you excuse yourself, telling your friends you need to use the bathroom, and slip away from the table, weaving through the crowded bar until you reach the small, dingy restroom at the back. you close the door behind you, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror.

your heart is racing, your skin flushed, and all you can think about is dean. about the way his muscles flexed under that leather jacket, the way he looked at you like he was starving for you. heat pools low in your belly, and filthy thoughts flood your mind—thoughts of him pressing you against the mirror, fucking you from behind until you're a mess, just like he did that night in the motel.

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's no use. your body wants him. you want him.

and then the door creaks open.

your eyes snap open, and you see him—dean, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with that same hunger you feel. he steps inside, closing the door behind him, locking it with a click. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't move, can't speak, as he crosses the small space between you, his body heat radiating off him in waves.

he doesn't say a word. he doesn't have to.

his hands are on you in an instant, rough and desperate, pulling at your clothes, as you do the same to him. his leather jacket hits the floor, followed by your shirt, your jeans, his belt clinking as he yanks it free. his breath is hot against your neck, and he's whispering in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"you're such a bad girl for leaving me like that," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. "but god, y'feel so fucking good... s'perfect."

his words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as he spins you around, pressing you against the mirror. your breath fogs the glass as his hands grip your hips, his body pressing against yours from behind. he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that makes your knees buckle, but his strong arms hold you steady, keep you grounded.

you're a mess beneath him, a blubbering, trembling mess as he fucks you hard and fast, his hips pistoning into yours with a desperation that matches your own. he's everywhere, all at once—his hands, his mouth, his body consuming you, and you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.

"you're mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive in your ear. "you've always been mine."

and it's true. you know it's true. you've always been his.

you lose track of time, of how many times you come, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your body shaking with the force of it. by the time he finally pulls out of you, you're spent, your legs trembling, your breath ragged. but dean takes care of you, cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he helps you back into your clothes, his touch gentle and tender, so different from the roughness of moments ago.

when you're both dressed, you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and without thinking, you pull him into a kiss. it's not like the others—it's not fueled by lust or desperation. this kiss is soft, slow, full of something deeper, something you've been too afraid to admit 'til now.

when you finally pull away, dean looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "what was that for?" he asks, his voice quiet, vulnerable.

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "i love you," you admit, the words catching in your throat. "and i'm sorry for leaving you like that. i was scared. but, fuck… i love you too, dean. i always have."

the smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise, brilliant and beautiful. he pulls you close again, pressing his body into yours. "yeah?"

"yeah," you whisper back. "turns out you're kind of hard to resist, winchester."

he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where you're pressed against him. "good thing i'm not trying to resist you anymore either, sweetheart."

when you eventually make your way back to the bar, sam takes one look at your slightly disheveled appearance and dean's stupid grin and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. your friends are also giving you knowing looks, and the blonde from earlier has long since found another target.

none of that matters, because dean's hand finds yours again, and this time, neither of you are running anywhere. he also pulls you close to him again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a promise of something more.

something real.

꣑୧ UNOFFICIAL TAGLIST. @anqeliclust @aileenunfiltered @embarrasingmf @stereotypicalbarbie @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @ohheyguyss @spxideyver @artyandink @titsout4nicholas 𓂃 ݁ 𖦹

[karaeilishh]

Billie being overstimulated is like.. the most incredible thing I just -

Would you write about the reader literally just loves Billie and is so eager to please her? Maybe it’s her birthday, maybe it’s just because. Doesn’t even matter tbh you just write it so well <3 that woman just deserves everything!!

thank you, my angel! here 💞

in my mouth b. eilish

you were already regretting asking billie to take you to this photo shoot, just so you could admire your girlfriend. you couldn't take your eyes off her from the moment she walked into the studio. her blonde locks cascaded over her shoulders, her black dress hugged every curve of her perfect body, her eyes stood out so beautifully against the black fabric.

you could eat this girl right now, as she lay on the floor, her legs spread so deliciously. as if inviting you.

you nervously clutch the fabric of your shirt, playing with the buttons to somehow occupy your hands. billie throws you seductive glances every now and then, arching her back even more or lifting her dress. this girl was a fucking goddess, and you wanted to worship her on your knees. every minute, hour, day. always.

that’s why you grabbed her wrist, asking the first worker you saw where the restroom was. man pointed at the right door and you pushed your girlfriend inside, closing the door behind you. "baby, what's wrong?"

billie asked almost innocently, and you almost believed that she didn't understand what was happening to you. there was a wild fire in your eyes, an animalistic desire to feel her skin under your tongue. "god, bils, just shut up."

you pushed her towards the sink, so that her back hit the marble, holding onto the edge of the counter. you fell to your knees on the cold tile, not caring at all about the pain that ran like an electric shock through your nerve endings. your eyes met for only a second, but already you saw a storm in the ocean of her irises. a storm of desire, because she had never seen you so hungry before.

you pushed her dress up, completely exposing her perfect thighs. her skin was so soft, so sweet to taste as you ran your tongue over it, sending shivers down billie's spine. you rip her cute lace thong off, letting it hang around her ankle as you place one of her hands on your shoulder. the sight of her pussy driving you wild.

"fuck, babe..." her hand is already flying to your head to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer to her. you didn't need to be asked twice. you run your tongue over her slit, tasting her on your tongue. her taste was intoxicating. you moan softly, thrusting your tongue into her, sucking on her clit, swallowing every drop. her long nails scratch painfully against your scalp, but it only makes you go further, harder.

“right there, yeah… fuck, that’s my good girl…” she covers her mouth with her hand so no one can hear how impatient you can be when it comes to your girlfriend. how much you wanted to devour her. only strangled moans and whines for your ears. billie’s legs start to shake as you bring her closer to orgasm, your tongue swirling around her clit as you insert two fingers into her. she leans forward, biting her palm painfully. “keep going, keep going, i’m so close…”

you speed up your movements, wanting to bring her to the edge as quickly as possible. your hearts skip a beat when there’s a knock on the other side of the door. it was her photographer, asking if she was there. billie looks at you, stunned. you hesitate for a few seconds before going back to eating her pussy. 

“answer him” you whisper. her face contorts in pleasure as she takes a ragged breath. she knows that if she says a word, he will understand what she is doing here. billie squeezes out a hesitant loud "mhm", to which the man asks her to hurry. she smiles nervously as the footsteps move away. she can focus on her pleasure again. you look at her hungrily, with one look begging her to cum in your mouth.

"fuck, fuck..." her stamina lasts only a few seconds before she cums in your mouth and on your fingers. her juices run down your chin as you smile contentedly. billie's old confidence returns, but it only lasts for one phrase. "swallow it all. all." 

you bite your lip and obey, licking every last drop from your fingers. swallow. 

"that was all i needed. you’re in my mouth"

[sorceresssundries]

A Study of Hands

Pairing: Emmrich x Female Rook

Tags: Oral Sex, masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Emmrich Volkarin being a soft dom.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: First Veilguard fic and it's smut. I am nothing if not predictable. Anyway, I had a vision of Emmrich very slowly taking off all that slutty jewellery he wears and then this happened.

Bon appetit!!! <3

Another battle done, another day survived. More bruises to body and ego. Things had not gone as planned - they so rarely did these days. But Rook was still alive, and so was the team. So was Emmrich.

She had retreated to her quarters to breathe, to let the steady, reliable rhythm of her lungs remind her she was here, still standing. Her love, as usual, wasn’t far behind her. 

His breathing was not as steady as hers. 

“You almost died,” he said, his voice tight as he crossed the room. Without hesitation, he reached for her, his elegant fingers brushing along her jaw, trailing softly across her cheekbone, where a bruise was just beginning to bloom into full colour.

She winced at the contact, and he immediately began to pull his hand away. She stopped him, covering his hand with hers, holding it in place. She needed to feel his touch, even if it hurt. 

“But I didn’t”, She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, pretending for a moment that they weren’t in the Fade, weren’t in someone else’s domain. That they were somewhere real, somewhere with day and night and time and a heartbeat. Maker, she thought, i’d give anything for more time. 

“I’m pretty tough,” she added, opening her eyes and smirking at him, trying for a lightness that didn’t quite escape the shadows. “It will take more than merely two unkillable Gods and a few hundred...”

Her teasing faltered as his lips crashed into hers, cutting her words short. His hand slid from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, holding her to him as though she might vanish if he let go. 

Too soon, he pulled back, his lips leaving hers as abruptly as they’d claimed them. The fire simmered and waited. He looked at her, his breathing ragged, and in his eyes, she saw everything he didn’t say - the fear, the need, the relief.

“I… My apologies,” he said, his voice uneven as he stepped back, running a glittering, ring-adorned hand through his hair. “I lost the run of myself. Adrenaline has… certain effects on the body, and I am only flesh and blood, after all. And you…”

“Emmrich,” she interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. “If you start with your gallantry, I swear I’ll crack the spine of every book you own.”

That drew a quiet, warm laugh from him, and the tension in his posture eased just slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, a crooked, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

His gaze flicked over her, lingering on the bruises that mocked him with their shameless display of her mortality. He was always so eloquent, so dexterous and purposeful with his words, but they had all abandoned him now. He couldn’t think of how to express the depth of his feelings; perhaps there were no words for it, or perhaps they had been stolen along with his heart.

Finally, he made a weak attempt, “Darling, I cannot watch you almost slip away again.”

“I didn’t slip away. I’m right here.” She stepped closer, placing a hand over his chest, feeling the wild thrum of his heart beneath the layers of fine fabric. “And so are you.”

Before she realised it, her back hit the wall, her smaller body bracketed by his. His hand left her hair, trailing down to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of her bruised cheek like an apology. She felt the tremor in his touch, the barely restrained hunger in the way his lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. His breath was hot against her skin, and her knees almost buckled when he nipped lightly at the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Emmrich,” she managed to breathe, her voice shaky. He hummed softly at the sound of his name on her lips, his fingers splayed against the small of her back.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her throat, his voice dark velvet. His lips were back on hers, swallowing whatever words she might have said. Her hands slid up to his hair,  and the low, rumbling sound he made at the sensation sent sparks dancing across her skin.

She had lost sight of him earlier, during the battle. She thought she had lost him completely. 

A brief silence settled between them, not awkward, but heavy with the unspoken. Their combined breaths mingled in the narrow space left between their bodies. His eyes searched hers. 

“Is everything all right?” He pulled back, his hand still cupping her face. “We can stop here, if that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice and eyes kind. 

She shook her head, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. 

He leant in slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind. But her mind was as steeled and immovable as her newly-given heart. 

Emmrich’s hands moved with care, sliding from Rook’s face down to her hips. Without breaking the kiss, he guided her gently, his touch featherlight, until the backs of her knees met the edge of the sofa. His lips parted from hers just long enough to whisper, “Lie back for me, my love.”

She obeyed, her breath shallow, her body alight beneath his gaze. Emmrich undressed her slowly, reverently, as though she were a gift so desired, so deeply hoped for, that to rush would dishonour the moment. Each button of her blouse came undone with measured precision, his hands never faltering.

When he pushed the fabric from her shoulders his breath caught, his lips parting slightly as though the sight of her had stolen the air from his very lungs.

“Beautiful”, he said as he took in her soft and scar-flecked skin in the pulsing blue light of the aquarium, making the marks and lines of her body dance like an aurora across a midnight sky. 

His hands came to rest on her waist as he knelt above her, his fingers flexing around her sides, thumbs brushing her abdomen. She arched under his touch, her back bowing instinctively, and a shiver passed through her at the cool press of his rings and bangles against the heat of her sensitised skin. Leaning forward, he pressed a long, devoted kiss to the space between her bare breasts, lingering there as though offering a silent prayer. Then, without a word, he let her go and stepped away.

Rook’s eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as the loss of his warmth sent panic flooding through her. She sat up, her mind racing. Had she done something wrong? Too much? Not enough?

Her fears were met with the sound of his soft, rich chuckle - intoxicating as aged brandy. Standing by the small bowl on her dressing table, Emmrich lifted his eyes to hers, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Apologies, darling,” he said, his tone smooth, “Let me strip off these trappings. I wish to touch you properly, without jangling like a jailor.”

Rook’s eyes followed his every move, unblinking, as he turned his attention to the task. He moved with his usual grace, deliberate and unhurried, his hands steady as he slid the first bangle free from his wrist. The metallic sound of it landing in the bowl—clink— echoed in the stillness, resonating in her chest and low in her stomach.

He worked at the clasp of the next bracelet with calm precision, maddeningly slow, every motion purposeful. The deliberate pace of it - the care, the sensuality - had her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breaths uneven.

She couldn’t look away. Those hands, so elegant, so recently mapping the curves of her body, now moved as though performing a sacred ritual. Every flick of his fingers, every twist of metal, felt deliberate, charged, and she could feel her composure coming apart with the golden clasps.

Another bracelet fell into the bowl. Clink.

Heat pooled in her abdomen, spreading across her skin as her thighs pressed together involuntarily. She was burning, the tension inside her coiling tighter with every piece he removed. Emmrich paused, glancing up at her.

“Growing impatient, are we?” he teased, the crooked grin on his lips devastating.

Rook shook her head steadily, though her voice betrayed her. “Not at all,” she managed, her breath uneven. “Please, take your time. I’m very much enjoying watching you.”

His head tilted slightly, a subtle, feline movement, his expression one of curiosity.

“Fascinating,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen this particular reaction before. You’re practically breathless, my dear.”

He was hesitant to touch her, to put his desires into practice without first understanding the intricate theory of her. Emmrich was a scholar at heart, an academic by nature, and he could never bring himself to handle something so intricate, so breathtakingly delicate, without first understanding its every nuance. She was a symphony waiting to be composed, a masterpiece to be studied in exquisite detail. He wanted to get this right. No, not just right. Perfect. 

He would require a demonstration. 

Her half-lidded gaze and the flush blooming across her skin captivated him as he methodically worked another ring from his fingers. Every one of his movements was deliberate, each moment stretched and savoured.

“I’m going to take all of these off,” he stated, his voice low and steady, “slowly. And then, my darling, I’m going to touch you.”

Clink.

As soon as his ring hit the dish she gave a soft, uncontrolled moan, her lips parting, the sound like magic newly discovered. His jaw tightened, but he held his composure, his hands still moving with practiced control.

“But first,” he continued, the silken patience of his voice wrapping around her, “I would very much like you to touch yourself.”

Clink. Another ring in the dish. 

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t waver. Her hands trembled slightly as they moved to obey. She let out a shaky exhale as her fingers dipped lower, brushing through the curls between her thighs and finally to the place where her body burned with need. Where she had touched herself before, in secret moments spent imagining him speaking to her like this, watching her like this.

“You’re doing beautifully” he murmured, his molten voice guiding her forward. 

His fingers found the last ring on his thumb, twisting it slowly before slipping it free and added it to the bowl with the others.

Clink.

Her fingers moved delicately at first, trying to pace herself, basking in the delight and eroticism of watching him unadorn his beautiful scholar's hands. She wanted him to touch her, so desperately, but she also wanted him to see her like this and know it was all for him. She wanted more than just sex, she wanted every intimacy. She wanted him to know, without doubt or question, that he was worthy of being wanted. That she wanted him now, as she always would. 

As her fingers slowly caressed herself she gasped and tilted her head back, she was hurtling far too quickly towards rapture. 

“Don’t stop looking at me, darling.” Emmrich said, as he worked another cuff off his wrist. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep steady, his fingers stumbling a little over some of the clasps, so focused was he on watching what she was doing, how she was touching herself. 

Clink.

She was slow, delicate, moving in featherlight circles. Occasionally stopping to dip the tips of her fingers inside herself, even from here he could see, he could tell how slick she was. He studied her rhythm and pressure as he continued to delight in the vision of her. 

Just a couple more bangles, and he would be free to touch her, to rest the pads of his fingers upon each dip and swerve of her body. 

"Tell me, what does it feel like when you touch yourself like this? What goes through your mind?” He wasn’t commanding, he was curious. Yes, his voice was deeper than usual and slow like thick honey - but he wasn’t trying to take charge of her, he was trying to learn from her. 

“You,” she confessed, bold now, her blush forgotten as her gaze locked with his. “It’s you. And it feels…” Her words broke off with a gasp, her hips rising to meet the rhythm of her own fingers, and his composure wavered. He fought the urge to grasp her by the ankles and pull her to him, his restraint hanging by a thread. He was slipping, and they both knew it.

“More, dearest,” he coaxed, his voice hoarse but steady. “I need more than that. Specifics, if you please.”

She exhaled sharply, the challenge in his words igniting something reckless in her. Fine, she thought. No more teasing. If he wanted the details, she’d give them to him—and let him act on every single one.

“Your hands,” she began, her gaze dropping to them. She groaned softly, watching as he stripped the cuff from his wrist, his fingers deft and deliberate. She wanted to grab those wrists, pull his hands to her body. She wanted those fingers in her mouth, on her skin, inside her.  “Those fingers… I think of them. Everywhere.”

His breath hitched, his composure cracking as her words painted vivid images in his mind. Images he had also lost himself to in his solitude. His mouth went dry. She wasn’t done. 

“Your mouth,” she continued, her voice low and sultry now, “your tongue… On me…”

“Where?”

Her answer was a moan first, then words. “On my cunt.”

She tried to continue, her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. Instead, she let her hand move faster, her breathing turning into soft gasps, and Emmrich felt his control unravelling. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands tightening into fists as he fought the urge to abandon his methodical restraint and close the distance between them.

For all his careful planning, for all his scholarly precision, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he had never desired anything, anyone, as much as he desired her.

“Emmrich, please.” 

That’s all he needed, he would never deny her. The last of his cuffs slid off his wrist in quick succession, and he finally made his way over to her. To kiss her. To capture her moans and sighs and taste the sweetness of them. He cradled her face, he would touch her like this first. Like he had waited a lifetime just to feel her lips upon his. 

“You are perfect.” He said gently, “You did so well, my love”

She hummed softly, a sound of pure contentment, as he lifted the hand she had used to pleasure herself. Slowly, he brought her fingers to his mouth, his gaze never leaving hers. He took them in deeply, his tongue swirling around them with deliberate reverence, humming like a starved man savouring the first taste of a feast. His teeth grazed her fingers gently before releasing them.

“May I take over from here?” he asked.

She laughed lightly at the politeness of his request, as though she had not just begged him, as though she had not been fucking him with her eyes and her words and stroking herself to almost-completion at the very idea of his hands upon her. He was a romantic, a gentleman through and through, and she adored him for it. She played along, because she knew this mattered to him - that this wasn’t just about passion, but about care.

"You may, but I would like to study you a little first" she lilted, taking his hand in hers. His hands, now bare - free of rings and cuffs - were beautiful: lithe, strong, and elegant. They were hands made for conjuring magic, for turning the pages of ancient tomes. Hands made to touch her. 

She brought his fingers to her lips, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the places where his rings had rested. One by one, she kissed each faint indentation, reverent of every spot where the weight of his adornments had marked him. Her lips trailed to the delicate veins at his wrist, where she lingered, savouring the thrum and rush of his pulse beneath her mouth.

It was her turn to undress him. He looked achingly beautiful in his loosely buttoned shirt tucked carelessly into his slacks—so different from the polished, formal attire he typically favoured. His hair, usually immaculate, was slightly tousled, a stray strand dancing across his brow. His shirt was rumpled from her wandering hands.

Rook’s shaky fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, until he stood bare from the waist up in front of her. She drank him in, pale and lithe, like a sculpture carved from marble and brought to life. His slacks hung low on his hips, drawing her gaze to the sharp, defined V that disappeared below the fabric. The sight of him made her breath hitch, and she couldn’t resist leaning forward to press her lips to the planes of his stomach.

The sound he made - low, raw, unrestrained - was a revelation she had never heard from him before. It was nothing like the measured, gentlemanly demeanour he always carried. She felt a surge of smug satisfaction that she could unravel him, piece by piece, with just the brush of her lips.

Her kisses trailed lower, her mouth finding the soft, sensitive skin just above the waistband of his trousers. She pressed her lips there, featherlight. His thumb brushed tenderly against her cheek, his fingers combing gently through her hair,

“You do not have to…” 

She didn’t wait to hear the rest of his polite protest. She was done with his control, his formality, his carefully composed demeanour. Those were the parts of him she cherished, but tonight, she wanted them undone - wanted him undone, entirely by her hand.

Her lips curved into a triumphant smile against his skin as she eased his slacks lower, freeing him. The sharp hiss of his breath and the way his body tensed beneath her touch were all the confirmation she needed. His head fell back, his composure shattering as a single word escaped him, raw and unrestrained.

“Maker.”

The sound of it, desperate and wrecked, sent a wave of pure exhilaration through her.

She let her kisses trail from his stomach to his length, her tongue tasting him, savouring the heat and the way his breath hitched with every movement. Slowly, deliberately, she used her mouth to drive him further from that refined man she adored, coaxing him into a state of pure, unfiltered need. And as his hands tightened in her hair, his low, broken moans filling the space around them, she knew she was succeeding.

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching as her lips moved over his skin. She smiled against him, revelling in how this slow worship left him helpless, and as she took him as far back as she could and hummed with pleasure, he gasped and bucked and she knew he was close. 

But just as he teetered on the edge, he pulled her upright, his strength effortless as he brought her face to his. 

“Not yet.” 

He didn’t want to finish yet, he wished to prolong the exquisite and wholly perfect feeling of being this desperate and priapic for her. Most importantly, he wanted to witness the crest of her pleasure before his own. 

After one final kiss to the fullness of her lips, he knelt before her. An acolyte at his altar, a scholar at his tome, and when she gasped his name as he pressed his lips to her core, he decided he would never hear it said so perfectly again. 

The taste of her was an elixir, a rejuvenation, a nectar that the Gods themselves would bottle and lock away if they knew the glory of it. Sharp and deep and singular, he mimicked the movements he had watched her demonstrate, keeping the strokes of his tongue light and focused where she needed, occasionally dipping his tongue inside her, gathering more of her taste on his tongue, savouring her like an Nevarran vintage. 

Rook was shaking, breathless at his worship. At the lap and hum of him against her. Her hands reached for him greedily, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as she whimpered his name again, her voice breaking on the syllables. Her hips lifted instinctively toward him, seeking more of the pleasure he so skillfully offered.

“Exquisite” he breathed against her, his lips brushing her skin, the timbre of his voice vibrating through her, “I could stay here forever, my love.”

The words sent a new wave of heat flooding through her, and she felt herself teetering dangerously close to the edge. Her breath hitched, her body tightening as the tension inside her coiled impossibly tight.

“It won’t take forever” she gasped, and his low chuckle against her sensitive nerves made her back bow. 

He didn’t falter. His focus was unwavering, attuned to every sound she made, every shift and quiver of her body. He listened intently, learning her as if she were a concertino, each moan, gasp, and tremor guiding him. Her cries grew louder, her breaths shorter, and the trembling in her legs turned to uncontrollable quaking. Ever the rigorous study, he allowed himself a brief, smug satisfaction in his success—but his hunger for perfection remained insatiable. There was always more to learn, more to explore, and he intended to make this particular discipline a daily, devoted pursuit.

When she finally shattered beneath him, it was with a cry of his name, her voice raw and filled with abandon. He held her through it, his hands steady on her thighs, caressing her even as she came undone. His lips and tongue coaxed out every last shiver and aftershock, prolonging her ecstasy until she collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent—boneless, breathless, and radiant.

Only then did he pull away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he watched her, his lips shining with evidence of his devotion. He looked at her as though she were the centre of his universe. 

“You are extraordinary,” He leaned forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to her inner thigh. Then, with the same care he had shown her throughout, he moved to join her on the sofa wrapping his arms around her trembling form, pulling her against him. His hands, steady and warm, cradled her as though she might break under anything less than absolute gentleness. “And I would do this again, and again, and again, just to grant you a single moment of peace and pleasure.”

"Believe me, it was much more than just a moment." Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her own ears, softened by a serenity she hadn’t felt in as long as she could remember.

He held her tighter, burying his face against her hair. He refused to let his fears seep out and blight the perfection of this night. How many moments like this would they have? The question loomed and sneered at him, but he banished it, focusing instead on the warmth of her in his arms.

They spent the night in blissful discovery - talking, laughing, teasing, and drifting between bouts of comfortable snoozing and slow, tender lovemaking. Time stretched and sighed around them, and Emmrich’s laughter was unguarded as he teased her about her stubbornness. She would fire back, calling out his incurable weakness for romance, and inevitably their banter dissolved into playful kisses that deepened and slowed into seduction.

When exhaustion finally stole them into slumber, their bodies remained entwined, her head resting on his chest while his fingers combed idly through her hair. But sleep was fleeting; neither could hold still for long. Time and again, they would wake, their gazes and mouths meeting in the dim light. Without a word, they came together, hungry and hot, not wanting to waste any time when there was no sun or moon to guide them. 

As she lay asleep in his arms, peaceful and radiant in the bloom of dreamlight, Emmrich watched her, still not quite believing his privilege. She was the glow in the lighthouse in a land without seas, where no storms raged and no darkness fell. She was his anchor in an unmoored place.

If death had ever scared him before, it terrified him now. The thought of her being pulled into it without him, of existing in some plane where he was not, was an agony he could not endure. 

He held her a little tighter, and eventually followed her into sleep, slipping into an uncertain tomorrow where he vowed he would not lose sight of her again. 

[prettymfwrites]

You're Stuck With Us

Caitlyn x Vi x Injured Female Reader

Summary: You get badly injured and try to hide it from your girlfriends. (Angst & Fluff)

tried to make this VERY visual, so it may lag<3

♡*♡∞:｡.｡𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 ｡.｡:∞♡*♡

The undercity's air hung heavy with tension as Caitlyn, Vi, and you navigated through the dimly lit alleyways. The trio had been tracking a lead on Jinx, but the path had led to Sevika instead—never a simple encounter.

The fight broke out before words could be exchanged. Sevika's bionic arm whirred with power, swinging dangerously close to Vi, who expertly dodged before landing a solid punch to Sevika's side. Caitlyn covered from a distance, sharp eyes tracking Sevika’s movements as she fired calculated shots.

"She's tougher than usual," Caitlyn muttered, reloading her rifle.

"I’ve got her!" Vi shouted, grappling Sevika and exchanging brutal punches. You moved to help, keeping Sevika’s attention split, dodging her arm as she swung in your direction.

But then Caitlyn found her opening. A sharp crack echoed through the alley as her bullet hit Sevika’s bionic arm. Sparks flew, and the mechanical limb sputtered and hissed before ceasing to function.

Sevika staggered, her face twisting in frustration. "I'll let your sweet sister do the honors." She growled, retreating backwards slowly before turning around fully.

"Bitch." Vi huffed under her breath, panting as she leaned on her knees.

The adrenaline was still pumping as Caitlyn approached, checking her rifle for damage. "Everyone alright?" she asked, her eyes darting between you and Vi.

"Peachy," Vi replied with a smirk, though her limp betrayed her bravado.

You forced a smile, hoping to hide the growing chill in your body. Looking down, you noticed a dark stain spreading across your shirt. The sharp pain in your side you’d ignored during the fight now screamed for attention.

"You okay, muffin?" Vi asked, noticing your slight wince.

"Yeah," you lied, brushing it off. "Just... cold and sore. I really want to lie down."

Vi narrowed her eyes at you, but nodded. She shrugged off her jacket and draped it over your shoulders. "Here. Let’s get out of here."

Caitlyn looped her arm under Vi’s, supporting her as the three of you began walking through the winding alleys. They started talking, discussing the next steps in tracking Jinx and throwing in playful jabs at each other. You tried to join in but found yourself unusually quiet, focusing instead on keeping one foot in front of the other.

The world around you blurred as the streetlights began to smudge together. Your hand drifted to your side, coming away slick with blood. You stared at your palm, your vision swimming, before your knees buckled.

"Hey—!" Vi shouted, but Caitlyn caught you before you hit the ground.

"What's going on?!" Vi knelt beside you, panic flaring in her voice.

Caitlyn’s face twisted in worry as she cradled you. "She’s shaking—" Her words stopped abruptly as she felt the wetness seep through her lap. Pulling her hand away, she saw the blood.

Her breath hitched. "No, no, no. Please, no."

Vi’s gaze followed Caitlyn’s to the crimson spreading from under her jacket. She immediately began unbuttoning it to assess the wound. "Damn it, why didn’t you say anything?!" she growled, pressing her hands to the wound.

You tried to answer, but your breaths came too shallow, too fast. Vi cursed under her breath, her voice cracking as she muttered, "Stay with us. Please, muffin."

Together, Vi and Caitlyn hoisted you up, Vi carrying you bridal style as they broke into a desperate sprint for the surface. Caitlyn’s voice rang out, calling for help as they stumbled into the topside streets.

People quickly gathered, gasping at the sight of your bloodied form. Medics rushed forward, and you were whisked away, leaving Vi and Caitlyn standing there, trembling and covered in your blood.

---

The waiting room was suffocatingly silent. Vi paced back and forth, fists clenched, while Caitlyn sat hunched, her head in her hands.

"Why didn’t I notice sooner?" Vi muttered, slamming her fist into the wall, the sound echoing through the room.

"Vi, stop," Caitlyn said softly, standing and pulling her partner into a hug. Vi’s tough exterior cracked as she buried her face in Caitlyn’s shoulder, tears soaking into her shirt.

"I should’ve done something," Vi choked out.

"You did," Caitlyn whispered. "We both did. She’s strong. She’ll pull through."

They stayed like that until a nurse entered, followed by Jayce. "You can see her now," the nurse said with a reassuring smile.

"Jayce?" Caitlyn asked, confused.

"I helped stabilize her with Hextech," he explained quickly, stepping aside.

They rushed into your room, their eyes immediately falling on you. You were pale, propped up in bed with an exhausted but warm smile.

"You’re awake," Caitlyn breathed, rushing to your side and gently taking your hand.

Vi was at your other side in an instant, her hands cradling your face as she pressed soft kisses to your forehead. "Don’t ever scare us like that again, muffin," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Not my best moment," you joked weakly. "But hey, at least I got fancy Hextech upgrades now."

Their gazes shifted to your side, where your wound glowed faintly with blue light.

"Jayce works fast," Caitlyn said, shaking her head in disbelief before pulling him into a tight hug.

Vi chuckled softly, brushing her lips over the glowing wound. "You’re stuck with us, y’know that?"

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," you replied.

They stayed by your side that night, alternating between serious conversations and soft reassurances. Eventually, the room fell quiet as Vi and Caitlyn dozed off, each holding one of your hands. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe.

__________

I take requests!

[lottins-only]

CROSS THE LINE | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line.

A/N: first judith fic!! this was really fun to write. (very loosely) based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. let me know what yall think <3

warnings: infidelity (i don't condone it yall its just fun to write morally gray characters 🫣)

someone once told you there’s no such thing as bad thoughts – that it’s your actions that truly define you.

you wonder what they’d say if they saw you now: sitting up in bed with your boyfriend sound asleep beside you, staring at your phone with a pounding heart, silently hoping, waiting, for a message from someone else.

you wait and wait, but there’s nothing. your home screen stays empty, mocking you. you glance at your boyfriend. his shallow breathing fills the quiet room, steady and oblivious.

he has no idea you came home at 3 a.m. wearing his teammate’s jacket.

you'd stuffed it in the back of your closet as soon as you got home, a relic of a night that shouldn’t have happened. you'd scrubbed yourself thoroughly in the shower, trying to wash away the smell of jude’s cologne that clung to your skin. but it’s still there. not on your skin anymore, but in your mind, stamped into your memory to stay forever. 

the way the flickering lights from the movie theater screen cast shadows on his beautiful face, the fleeting feeling of his warm hands on yours as he handed you his jacket, the full body rumble of his laugh, the feel of his soft lips on yours.

you will never forget. how could you, when that was the first time in months you’d felt seen? desired. wanted. needed. it’s an intoxicating feeling, like stepping into the sunlight after living in the shadows for the longest time.

and now, staring at your phone, you feel it all over again. the pull. the wrongness of it all.

a buzz breaks the silence. your heart jumps into your throat as the screen lights up and a single message appears.

jude: you got home safe?

it’s innocent enough. simple. harmless.

you could ignore it. pretend you didn’t see it. block his number and put an end to whatever this is before it spirals into something else.

but instead, your fingers move on their own accord.

you: yeah. thanks for checking.

you press send before you can stop yourself. you lock your phone and put it on the bedside table before closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.

to your credit, none of this was planned. it all starts earlier that night. you and your boyfriend are supposed to have a date night, a rare opportunity to spend some alone time together. you pick out a dress he once says is his favorite and make a dinner reservation at his favorite spot.

but plans change quickly.

“babe, the guys just texted,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. “they’re hopping on fifa in a bit. you don’t mind if we raincheck, right?”

you stare at him dumbfounded as he flops down onto the couch.

“raincheck?” your voice trembles, the tears obvious, yet he doesn’t even glance at you.

“yeah. just tonight, we’ll do something soon,” he says dismissively.

it’s not the first time he’s blown you off, but tonight it stings a little more. maybe it’s the fact that he’s so indifferent to you and your feelings, he doesn’t even care to notice the relationship is teetering on the edge of a cliff. he doesn’t realize that you’re making an effort to save it while he’s unknowingly contributing to its unraveling.

you realized it too late, but you know now you’re not a partner to him, not really. you’re a glorified accessory, someone he can show off for external validation, a dependable constant in his life that’s only there to cheer him on and make him look good while he gives his attention and energy to the things he actually cares about: his friends, his family, and above all, his football.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but things changed quickly after he made the move to real madrid and became a bigger star. with every goal, every headline, and every paparazzi photo, you sank further into the background of his life.

you linger for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind, to look up and realize what he’s doing. but he doesn’t. so you grab your bag and leave without saying another word.

the cinema isn’t your first choice. you wander the streets for a while, debating whether to call a friend or just head home. but you need a distraction, something that can dispel all the thoughts running through your head. so before you know it, you’re buying a single ticket to whatever is playing next.

the theater is almost empty. it isn’t until you sit down and glance at your ticket that you realize you’re not seeing something new, but a re-release of a classic: Goodfellas.

halfway through the movie, you see a figure slip into a seat a few rows ahead of you. a few moments pass, and you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. it’s distracting, like an itch. you can't bear to ignore it any longer so you turn your head and look straight at the person. the figure quickly shifts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. his features are hidden thanks to the hoodie he’s wearing, but his height and broad shoulders give him away as a man.

you hold your gaze for a second longer, just to make sure he gets the message, before turning back to the screen. but your focus is broken after that.

a few more moments pass and you notice the man stand and make his way out of his row. you let out a quiet breath of relief, assuming he’s leaving. but from the corner of your eye, you see the same figure moving toward your seat. your body stiffens immediately. why is he coming your way? maybe it was a bad idea to come to a nearly empty theater alone so late at night.

you watch as he stops in front of you and slightly crouches to not block the view of the screen.

“y/n?” he asks, voice low yet familiar.

“uh, yeah?” you respond warily.

“thought it was you.” he pulls back his hood, revealing the grinning face of jude bellingham.

a wave of embarrassment immediately washes over you. it’s bad enough that your boyfriend doesn’t love you and prefers to spend time playing video games with his friends, but now you have to run into his teammate of all people while you’re publicly wallowing in your misery—his kind, handsome teammate who always makes you flush whenever you cross paths.

this time is no different. your face grows warm as you stutter, “oh! h-hi, jude.”

you brace for the questions: why are you here alone? where’s your boyfriend? why do you have tear stains on your cheeks?

they don’t come though. instead, he gestures to the seat next to you. “mind if i join you? my seat over there was right under the AC; i was freezing.”

you nod. jude flashes you a smile as he takes a seat.

and then nothing. you watch the rest of the movie silently, the only interaction between you being an elbow nudge from him to offer his pack of candy.

he’s completely engrossed. he laughs silently at certain scenes, and in the more intense ones lets out small gasps. for someone else, it might’ve been annoying, but for you, who’s used to your boyfriend’s indifference to everything, you find his enthusiasm refreshing, maybe even a little endearing.

you spend the rest of the movie mentally going through the list of things you know about him : he's the same age as you (your boyfriend begrudgingly posted a birthday wish on his instagram story once), he can't drive (you see him being picked up by a driver whenever you visit valdebebas), he's genuinely nice (he always says hi when he sees you around, and he's politely held a door open for you once or twice), his spanish isn't the best (you once ran into him hopelessly trying to change his order at the canteen, sheepishly apologizing to the annoyed barista before you helped him out), and your boyfriend quietly holds a dislike for him because he's 'attention seeking' ( you secretly think its not his fault that he's charming and easygoing, that he has everyone he meets wrapped around his finger).

when the movie ends and the lights begin to brighten, he turns to you.

"do you wanna get ice cream?"

you hesitate for a moment.

"yeah. i’d love to," you say finally.

you exit the cinema, and when the fresh outdoor air hits you, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue.

"why and how are you here?"

"could ask the same for you," he grins.

"yeah, but—" you begin, but are immediately silenced by the sight in front of you. jude reaches into the pocket of the jacket he's layered over his hoodie and pulls out a dreadlocked toupee. with the straightest face, he carefully pulls down his hood, places the wig on his head, and adjusts it before pulling the hood back up.

you blink.

"you were saying?" the corners of his mouth twitch at your facial expression. without waiting for a reply, he starts walking, leading you away from the cinema.

you walk in tandem, still giving him a confused look. when you catch sight of his (fake) locs swinging along to the rhythm of his steps, you can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he turns to you, a mock hurt look on his face. “i’m part jamaican, you know.”

you pause your walking, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh. he stands patiently, looking slightly amused.

after you catch your breath and fully recover, you continue walking.

“so that’s how you go places unnoticed?” you ask, still giggling.

“yup,” he says. “otherwise it’s a nightmare. need a bodyguard and stuff.”

you nod sympathetically as you stroll down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. jude walks with an easy confidence, his hands in his pockets while you glance over at him and his toupee every so often.

“so,” he says after a moment, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your excuse? why are you at a late night showing of Goodfellas all by yourself?”

your smile falters slightly. you look straight ahead, debating how much to share.

“just needed to get out of the house,” you say with a light tone.

jude doesn’t push, though the way he hums softly in response tells you he notices your answer is only a half-truth.

"what about you?" you ask.

"I like watching movies," he says simply.

when you give him a somewhat confused look, he pulls out his phone and opens the letterboxd app, showing you the extensive list of movies he's marked as watched. you skim through it and you’re surprised by the diversity. the list is seemingly filled with movies of all genres, from classic films to indie flicks. you didn’t expect this side of him, but somehow it makes sense.

as he enthusiastically explains the list, you can't help but feel endeared by the excited look on his face. you have the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth over his furrowed brow with your finger. but for the first and only time that night, you don't act on that impulse.

you reach a small gelato stand located on a corner of the street, its neon sign glowing softly. jude steps forward and leans against the counter.

“pick whatever you want,” he says, winking as he passes you the menu.

“don’t mind if i do,” you say, raising an eyebrow. you ignore the way his words make you feel—warm and fluttery, like this is a first date between two single people.

after a moment of deliberation, you pick pistachio and hazelnut, watching as jude leans in to order the same for himself.

“you copying me?”

“nah,” he says with a smirk, passing your cone to you from the server. “just figured you have good taste.”

you wander away from the stand, both of you savoring your ice cream. for a while, you walk in comfortable silence. at one point, he removes the ridiculous wig from his head. it isn’t until you reach a park bench that jude breaks the silence.

"you know," he starts. "i haven’t seen you at a lot of games lately. everything good between you and your boyfriend?"

“‘your boyfriend?’” you tease. “why not call him by his name? you guys have beef or something?”

he stays silent.

you gasp half-jokingly. “oh my god! tell me everything, so i can sell the story to the tabloids.”

he lets out a laugh at that.

“you’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“c’mon, spill,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly. “is he, like, selfish? does he refuse to pass during games?”

jude chuckles, shaking his head again. “nah, nothing like that. he’s a good player. talented, hardworking… you just start noticing things when you’re around someone all the time, you know?”

he says it carefully, almost hesitantly. you tilt your head at him. “notice things like what?”

he shrugs, his gaze dropping to his melting cone. “like… maybe he doesn’t appreciate what he’s got.”

the words hang in the air between you. you don't know how to respond, so you just gaze down at your own ice cream.

"sorry," jude says quickly. "didn't mean to overstep. i just—forget it."

"no, it's fine," you say quietly. "you're not wrong."

you sit in silence for a few moments. you feel him lean back against the bench, and the next time he speaks, his tone is lighter.

"my dad's coming to visit tomorrow," he says casually, an excited undertone in his voice.

"yeah? that's nice. does he come often?"

"not as much as i'd like," jude admits. "he's got my little brother to worry about in sunderland."

you smile softly. “what do you guys usually do when he visits?”

"usually we grab some food..."

he speaks about his bond with his dad, and also his close relationship with both his brother and mother. soon the conversation moves to childhood memories; jude tells you stories about growing up in birmingham, the football academy there, how he met his best friends at school. in return, you share stories of your own childhood, each one met with genuine curiosity from jude. you laugh, the conversation feeling effortlessly easy and natural.

it isn’t until you pull out your phone and glance at the screen to check the time that reality crashes back in. you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. a boyfriend who hasn’t called, hasn’t texted, hasn’t even noticed that you’ve walked out of his house.

you lick the last remnants of your ice cream and are just about to crunch into the cone when jude gestures toward your chin. “you’ve got a little…” he says, trailing off as he points.

“oh,” you mumble while jude scans your surroundings for a tissue. finding none, he leans in and gently swipes at the bit of ice cream with his thumb.

“got it,” he murmurs, his touch lingering just a second longer than required.

what happens next can only be described as a a lapse in thinking, or maybe something you've been holding back all night. before your brain can catch up with your actions, you grab his hand and bring his thumb to your lips. you lick the ice cream away, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

jude freezes, his breath catching, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"i—" you start, but whatever explanation you're about to give disappears when jude leans closer, his hand hovering near your face, as if waiting for your permission.

you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

his lips brush against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when you don’t push him away or move back, when, instead, you lean into him, his kiss deepens. it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to memorize every inch of you.

the ice cream cone in your hand is forgotten, melting onto the pavement as your fingers tangle into his hoodie, pulling him closer. the world fades, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

when you finally pull apart, your breaths mingle in the night air and jude’s forehead rests against yours.

“jude…” you whisper, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression serious. “tell me if I’ve crossed a line. i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

your heart flutters at the genuine care in his tone. you shake your head. “no, you didn’t.”

he doesn't keep his lips off you after that.

the next morning, you wake up feeling better than you have in months. there's a lightness in your chest, a warmth that’s been missing for what feels like forever.

you glance at your boyfriend, expecting to feel guilt or remorse. but there’s nothing. no pang of regret, no twist in your stomach. you feel... nothing at all.

you watch him roll out of bed and get ready for training. not a word passes between you as you sit down together in the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“so, what does your day look like today?” you try.

he doesn’t even look up, his attention entirely on his phone, scrolling with one hand while holding his fork with the other.

“i have a meeting at work that’s pretty—“ you start, but he cuts off.

“we’re doing penalty drills,” he mutters without looking up. “need to score more than bellingham so i can wipe that smug smile off his face. did you know he gets paid more than me?”

you just stare at him. you wonder what you even saw in him all those years ago. how had you overlooked the bitterness in his eyes, the envy? how had you missed it all along, his resentment towards anyone who seemed happier, luckier, more successful? his good looking face looks distorted to you now, forever changed to you to reflect the ugliness he holds inside. its as if you’re seeing him for who he really is for the very first time.

your phone buzzes on the table. without even checking, you know who it’s from.

jude: good morning :) sleep well?

you see it for what it is: an invitation to step into dangerous territory, to cross the line once more. a lifeline offering escape from the sinking ship that is your relationship.

you decide to take it.

you type a quick response and set the phone down. your boyfriend is grinning at an instagram reel now, completely absorbed.

you don’t speak to each other for the remainder of breakfast. this time it doesn't bother you at all.

[adieutristana]

comforting reader scenarios; arcane women x fem! reader

finally home and spending time with family for the first time in a while. i started writing this while still at my dorm though, and wanted to finish it <3 i’ll get to my requests once break is over!

summary: scenarios of arcane women comforting their girlfriend.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, insecurity, nightmares (mel), smoking (sevika), crying, fluff, hurt/comfort

men dni.

jinx;

hosting at the last drop during a holiday weekend was no easy task, you knew that. but still, you needed extra hours. you needed extra money. so you picked up the shifts.

which you were now regretting more than you had any decision in a while. you wished that you could rewind time, and slap your past self across the face. tell her to put her sanity over a few more hours of pay.

you had just seated your final reservation of the night, and as soon as you got back to the host stand, your hands scrambled to untie your apron and slam it down on the desk. you couldn’t even be bothered to hang it up on its hook. you were overstimulated, stressed, burnt-out. you were exhausted.

your coworker grimaced seeing you, but was evidently concerned. “you gonna be okay getting home?” they asked, a hand on their hip. “i can give you a ride.”

“no, it’s fine. i’ll find my way.” you grumbled, grabbing the last of your belongings before swinging the door open. you knew exactly where you were headed: jinx’s hideout. you turned on your heel, keeping your head down as you sped through the bumpy streets of zaun. your destination wasn’t far, but the way in which your hands were trembling and you couldn’t focus your vision, you didn’t want to face the risk of any more human interaction.

you reached jinx’s hideout after about ten minutes of walking, and stepped in quietly. you saw blue braids, your girlfriend’s back facing you as she tinkered with what was presumably a new explosive device. typical jinx. she turned around in her chair as soon as the sound of your arrival registered, and she ran to give you a tight hug.

“how was work, toots?” she asked, her dark lips curled in a smile. “i missed ya, y’know.” she chimed, her arms still holding you close to her. you sighed and released the day’s worth of tension from your body, finally feeling safe enough to do so.

“it was hell. honest.” you began, before you felt a full tirade coming on. “i mean- i got yelled at for the simplest things. not having a table for a party of thirteen, having to consult with my manager for something, anything and everything. it’s… it’s like i couldn’t do anything right today.” you spoke, your voice faltering. you felt tears welling in your eyes, and you felt jinx’s grasp around you grow tighter.

“(y/n). hey. it’s okay.” jinx replied, her voice softer than most times. one arm stayed in place, and her other hand came up to gently cradle your cheek. “customers are awful. they always are. but you’re a damn good hostess, and you were doing your best! it’s just one of those weekends. they feel like they can do or say whatever they want…” jinx trailed off with a slight scowl in her voice. you knew that jinx was never particularly the best with choosing soothing words for you, but her odd and sometimes aggressive way of reassuring you did work.

your girlfriend softly grasped your shoulders to sit you down, then opted to grab one of your hands. her slender, calloused fingers slotting themselves between your own. she offered her shoulder wordlessly for you to lay your head on, which you accepted. you let out a sharp exhale through your nose. a single tear fell.

“i shouldn’t have taken those shifts. holiday weekend, back to back.” you scoffed. “money be damned. i’m never interacting with the public again.”

“no problem with that.” jinx remarked, trying to lighten the mood a little. her free hand came up to run over your side, up and down, up and down, gently and repeatedly. an oddly soothing pattern. “you could just stay here with me forever, y’know.”

you gave a soft chuckle in reply. “yeah. that’d be nice. you and me, not needing anything else.”

vi;

tonight was just one of those nights. you were getting better, you thought. you had been consistently seeing a therapist and airing out every little ugly detail about your life, your past, yourself to a complete stranger. and it was helping. you had a girlfriend who adored you, body and soul. who would do absolutely anything in her power just to see a hint of a smile on your face.

but right now, with your hair clutched in your hands and hot tears streaming down your face, your heart beating in your chest at record speed, you couldn't think about any one thing.

there was no rhyme or reason, you just felt horrible. about yourself, about your life, about everything. it was as if all of that progress you had worked so hard for was completely undone. dull and noid. you swore you could feel yourself dropping deeper and deeper, your shallow breaths growing quicker, until you heard the door of your apartment swing open.

"hey, babe, sorry i'm late, i got held u-" vi stopped dead in her tracks in front of you, taking in your state for a split second before her expression turned to one of unease. "oh, my god- (y/n), what happened? come on, talk to me." she breathed out, calloused, bandaged hands coming to grasp at your shoulders.

your girlfriend’s grip did ground you slightly, but you still couldn’t get a word out. you could only focus on trying to breathe; in, out, in through your nose, out through your mouth. vi’s worried expression didn’t falter, but her hold on you did loosen as she noticed your breathing grow more steady.

vi now sat next to you and swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close to your side. she brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, and tried to soothe you in the most gentle tone possible. “hey. hey, now. it’s okay. i’m here. i’m not goin’ anywhere, ya hear?” she whispered. “tell me what’s wrong.”

you just gulped, and hastily reached up to swipe away the tears on your cheeks. “nothing… nothing happened.” you said, voice still shaky. your gaze was downcast, focusing on some odd stain on the carpet. “i just feel so hopeless.” you blurted out. you just didn’t know how else to phrase it.

“i’ve done so much, gone to so many appointments and faced myself in the mirror. faced my flaws, my past, i’ve done some rough work.” you explained. “but i feel like it’s all for nothing. if i’ve gone and done all of that, why do i feel like complete shit right now?” you muttered under your breath. your shoulders were tensing back up, and more tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to fall at the next minute.

the girl next to you took your chin with her forefinger and thumb, gently guiding your gaze to meet her own. “(y/n), look at me.” she said.

you looked at her, eyes shaky and unsure.

“you don’t feel like this every day, do ya?” she asked. “i… no. i don’t.” you replied.

“there you go, then. no amount of therapy or coping or self-analysis is gonna take away the fact that some days just fucking suck.” vi’s arm was still draped around you, holding you in close to her and now slightly rocking you.

“you’ve got problems. we all do. they’re not just gonna go away overnight, some of them probably won’t ever. but ya have to keep trying, right?” she asked, prompting you to slowly nod. you sniffled, and whispered, “it just feels so pointless.”

“i know it does, but it isn’t. you know you haven’t done all of that for nothing. one shitty moment doesn’t erase all the hard work you’ve put in.” vi affirmed. she accentuated her words with a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead. “you’re one of the strongest people i know.”

you finally let yourself go and lay your head on her shoulder, wordlessly accepting your girlfriend’s comfort. her grip around you only tightened, and while you couldn’t see her, you knew her well enough to know by now that she was smiling at the sight of you.

mel;

mel loved sharing a bed with you. it was so peaceful, so intimate in a way. you had her in your arms facing you, her head buried in the crook of your neck taking deep, relaxed breaths.

until you shot up from your slumber with a sharp gasp after having a nightmare. enforcers. your family. you hadn’t done anything, and neither had your family, but there the enforcers were in that dream, taking them from you. ignoring your choked sobs and loud pleas to just let them go.

it was probably a side effect of growing up in the undercity, and witnessing that exact scenario more times than you could keep track of. even though it wasn’t real, it still horrified you.

you tried to steady your breathing as to not wake the woman next to you, still deep asleep. but the second you saw her begin to stir, you knew you were in trouble. mel did not take kindly to her sleep being disturbed.

she sat up slowly, looking around and one hand coming to rub at her eyes, then her eyes met yours. there’s no malice or annoyance in her gaze, only concern. “…what has you up this late?”

“just a nightmare, mel. don’t worry about it.” you sighed, voice dropping and trying to convince her to just go back to sleep. it wasn’t until you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around you, though, and pull you close to mel’s chest that you realized she wasn’t planning on letting this go.

“no, talk to me.” mel demands, although sleep is still evident in her voice. now it’s obvious that she isn’t going to let this go, and although you feel guilty for disturbing her rest, you’re grateful that she’s not angry with you.

you let out a deep breath, and begin twiddling with your thumbs to keep your racing mind at bay. mel still has you held close to her, one hand cradling the back of your head. “it was about my family. i had a nightmare that enforcers… took them. threw them in jail without a trial. even though they’ve done nothing wrong.”

having been brought up in zaun, this was a fate that was unfortunately not uncommon. a slim possibility for you, one of the more ‘respected’ families of the undercity, but the chances were never zero. you were unsure as to why you were suddenly having nightmares about this, though.

silence hung in the air for a moment, the only sounds in the room being your girlfriend’s slow breathing and rain pattering against the windows. “…that won’t happen, love. i wish i could tell you that our enforcers are a just group of people, but they are not. but you know all i am doing to try and fix this… your family is safe. i can promise you that.”

mel’s words were genuine, but in reality, there was only so much comfort she could offer. piltover as a city was corrupt; there was no denying that. but at the very least, you could rest assured that she was trying. mel cared- not just because they were your family, but because she had a heart. that’s more than you could say for some of the other council members.

you reached to intertwine your fingers with hers, and let your eyes slowly slip shut again. “you’re safe with me, darling. a nightmare is just that; a nightmare.” mel whispered, her voice like honey, sweet and smooth. “let’s get you back to sleep. i’ll be here all night.” she pressed a final lingering kiss to your temple, before you fell back into a deep slumber.

sevika;

being one of silco’s henchmen, it wasn’t uncommon for you to arrive home with an array of injuries. bruises, scrapes, cuts, sometimes even stab wounds if it was particularly bad. most of the time, you couldn’t place exactly where each injury had come from, only that it hurt like hell. but you were used to it by now, and working for silco both paid well and earned you protection. so you couldn’t exactly complain.

this time, though, you weren’t only hurt, you were exhausted. you were honestly considering marching (albeit weakly) to silco’s office and telling him you’re resigning, effective immediately. your legs felt like they were going to fall off. you undoubtedly had a few bruised ribs and had suffered more severe injuries than ever before. thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken, but there was only so much you could take.

you swung the door to your shared apartment open, seeing sevika already sat down. you slumped into the beat-up couch next to your girlfriend, letting out a loud and exasperated sigh. what to do? you had lazily patched yourself up, but you were still in considerable pain. you looked around the room, scanning all of your belongings from years of working for the eye of zaun. could it all have been for nothing? all of your hard work- was zaun, was silco going to chew you up and spit you out?

“(y/n)? took ya a while to get back. everything fine?” sevika asked. she swung one leg over the other and took out a cigar, grabbing her box of matches from a side table. you tried to muster up the most chipper tone of voice possible, and replied, “yep, i just got a bit held up on the way back. all is well.” you even tried to cement it by giving her the best smile you could manage.

sevika gave you one of her knowing side-glances, an eyebrow raised as she lit her cigar. “spit it out.”

god damn it.

if there was one thing your girlfriend was, it was observant. she knew your mannerisms, your habits and your demeanor well enough to know when something was wrong. honestly, sometimes, you thought sevika might know you better than you know yourself.

“sev, it’s nothing, really. don’t worry about me.” you tried to reassure her, a smile cemented on your face to really sell it. yet she still saw right through you. “(y/n), somethin’s up. i can tell. come on, dove, you can talk to me.”

you weighed your options for a minute. you were scared, if you were being honest with yourself. you knew that sevika was frighteningly loyal to silco, and saying that you were thinking of leaving could anger her. maybe provoke her in some way. but another thing you knew about your girlfriend was that once she started something, she wasn’t going to let go of it until it was resolved.

“i got beat up. badly, worse than i ever have… i don’t know if i have it in me to keep doing this, sevika.” you muttered. oh, god, your voice was shaking. “everything hurts. i’m exhausted. i’ve seen so much, and i don’t know if i’m strong enough.”

sevika sat in contemplation for a moment- a moment that felt like hours. she took a long drag of her cigar, exhaling as she talked. “that comes with the job, darlin’.” you felt your heart drop into your stomach. sevika was right. now you seemed like a traitor to silco and weak. “but, we all have our limits. you’ve done all you can, and you’ve done a damn good job at it. now, i’m not gonna tell you that you should leave, because i don’t want you to. i’m selfish like that.” your girlfriend chuckled.

you let her words sink in. you swung your legs around to be on top of her lap, laying your head down on the arm of your couch. sevika brought an arm up to rest her hand on one of your thighs, gently squeezing in reassurance. “do what you think will be best, okay? i’ll still be here. always will.” she smiled. “but… what about silco?” you muttered.

sevika barked out a laugh at that, which slightly startled you. your eyes blown wide and your form jumping. “silco’ll be fine. he has his other people… like me.” she said. sevika gently pulled you to sit your entire body in her lap, and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “i’ll be here, regardless.” she looked at one of the half-assed bandages on your ankle, blood seeping through. “let’s get ya properly patched up, okay?”

caitlyn;

you sat in one of the many libraries on academy grounds, countless papers sprawled out in front of you on a desk. all of the words and countless problems needing solving had lost all meaning. your final exams were exactly a week from today, but your head was fuzzy. you couldn’t process anything. none of the study methods you were using stuck.

“shit.” you muttered to yourself, grasping your head in your hands against the desk. you lifted your head up to take in your surroundings: countless other students at tables, some in groups and some by themselves. what they all had in common was that they all seemed to be getting something done. that was a lot more than you could say for yourself.

you groaned out loud, disregarding the fact that others would absolutely hear over the loud silence of the facility. you gathered your papers, stacking them the neatest you could before shoving them in your messenger bag. you pulled out your chair, not bothering to push it back in, and turned on your heel to exit the library. god damn it.

you hastily made your way to your apartment, trying to keep your chin up as you passed other students of the district. you couldn’t let yourself crack. you couldn’t let on that anything was wrong. as you inserted your key into the lock of your apartment and turned the doorknob, the smell of dinner immediately hit you. was caitlyn… cooking?

“i’m home!” you called out, trying to search for caitlyn in the kitchen. you spotted her tall figure, her back turned to you and arms busy. you hung your bag up on a hook, and sat down on the living room couch with a dramatic huff. caitlyn turned her head to look at you for a moment, abandoning whatever she was busy stirring to come sit next to you.

when you looked over to see your girlfriend, you jumped the slightest bit. her footsteps were so quiet, it was startling at times. you never knew exactly where she learned how to do that.

“how was studying?” she asked, reaching to twirl a strand of your hair around her index finger. you sucked your breath in, and hung your head low in defeat. “well… i didn’t exactly get much done.” you murmured.

“i didn’t get anything done, actually.” you corrected yourself, voice a bit more clear this time. “i’ve got this… this mental block right now. i don’t know what it even is. i feel like every time i look at a piece of material to study, my mind just goes blank. whoosh, like i haven’t been studying this shit for months in class.” your hands were clutching your pants, trying to find any type of temporary relief. you were so utterly disappointed in yourself.

“what now, then?” your girlfriend asked, still absentmindedly playing with your hair. the smell of what you could now identify as some kind of pasta filled the room. “what do you mean, ‘what now?’” you asked. it wasn’t a quip, but a genuine question. as much as you loved caitlyn, she could be confusing from time to time.

“i mean, what are you going to do now? sulk? rest?” she clarified, her blue eyes gazing directly at- or through you. it wasn’t meant to be intimidating, but caitlyn had that effect. you took your hands off your lap and crossed your arms over your chest, gaze still downcast. “i don’t know. i’ll try again tomorrow, but right now, i don’t know.”

caitlyn moved her hand to gently tap your jaw, signaling that she wanted you to look at her. you obliged, her eyes still piercing- but a bit softer now. “do you know how many days like that i had as a girl, sat with my instructor? completely clueless as to how to solve the problem in front of me?” she asked, her tone soft and the slightest bit playful. she scoffed as she recalled the memory.

“that’s part of the reason i decided not to attend the academy. of course, i had expectations to live up to, which played a major factor in my decision. but student life hasn’t ever been for me.” caitlyn said, settling her hands down and opting to rest her head on your shoulder. navy strands lightly tickled your neck.

“what you do is admirable, dearest. one odd day doesn’t make that less true.” she smiled. “you’re still such a hard-working, smart person.. you just need to rest.” she accentuated her statement by pressing her lips to your cheek, ever so gently. fleeting.

you gently smiled at her words and leant into the kiss. you didn’t have a clue as to how she managed, but caitlyn somehow always had the right words to say. you remembered the pasta cooking, though, and gasped. “shit- cait, should you be leaving that unattended?”

your girlfriend lightly chuckled. “the sauce needed to sit for a few moments. all is well, i promise.”

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 14

Here were at the penultimate chapter. Just one more chapter to go and I am so proud of this little story. I know I said that yesterday but it is just such a good story.

The final chapter will be up on Friday!

In this we a misunderstanding, Eddie gets advice from his new roommate, Dr. Hughes is a saint.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

*throws cliffhanger at you and runs!*

~

Steve had been to a lot of places when he competed but nothing was quite like London, England.

The city was massive for a start. And ancient in ways America just isn’t. Steve, Wayne, and Robin had book their flight through Gatwick instead of Heathrow to save on money and so they arrived ahead of the athletes. Which game them time to see a bit of the city.

Robin squealed with delight when she got to ride on the top of a double-decker bus.

“The only thing that would make this better is if it was purple and had a third level!” she said excitedly.

Max had introduced Robin to Harry Potter and there was no going back. She was a Ravenclaw of course. And a good portion of her clothes were in blue or silver. There was no way to get the original blue and bronze from the book for love or money, much to her dismay.

Wayne just shook his head. He didn’t veer far from his sports and shows, but he did enjoy a good British mystery. Him and Eddie watched Sherlock. Though, everyone watched Doctor Who religiously every Saturday on Steve’s big screen TV.

They traveled over the London Bridge, the real one and not the Tower Bridge that everyone confuses it to be. It’s a regular suspension bridge. Which Robin thought was lame.

They arrived at their hotel and Steve and Robin went into one room and Wayne went into the other. Once they were showered and changed, they went to go meet Eddie at the airport. They waited by the baggage claim for him to arrive.

They saw a bunch of athletes pile out of security and they jumped up and down trying to find in the crowd.

Wayne spotted him first. He waved his arm in the air. “Eddie!”

Those chocolate button eyes lit up as Eddie heard his name being called. Suddenly Steve and Robin were joining in and calling his name too.

He patted someone on the shoulder and trotted over to the three of them. He gave them all hugs.

“Can you believe it?” Eddie squealed. “The actual fucking Olympics. And all thanks to Stevie here, seeing my potential.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “I may have recognized your talent, but you’re the one who got you here.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder. “Look, guys. I’d love to stay and chat, but they want us to jump through hoops and shit, so I’ve got to go. But I’ll message you once I get the chance, okay?”

They all nodded and once Eddie got his luggage he was sprinting back to the other athletes.

“Well that was certainly something,” Robin said dryly, pursing her lips together. “I realize that he probably has to check in and stuff, but who was that guy he was chatting with before he noticed us?”

Steve’s stomach twisted as he tried to tell himself he had no claim to Eddie. Eddie was only twenty to his own twenty-six. It was good Eddie was meeting people his own age. Maybe... he gulped hard. Maybe find someone to have a fling with or even...He closed his eyes. He shook his head.

“Steve?” Robin asked breaking into his revery with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’ve been calling your name for a bit there. You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said with a blinding, and blindingly false smile. “Just hard to be here and not be competing, you know?”

Robin and Wayne shared a glance. They really hadn’t thought about that aspect of this trip. They had been so excited to see Eddie in the Olympics that they forgot that had Steve not been hurt last time, he would be with Eddie, getting his badge and room sorted. Instead of here with the family members.

“Sorry, Steve,” Robin murmured. “I feel like such a bad friend now.”

Steve shrugged her off. He looked at his watch. “I think I’m going to call Dr. Hughes.” He walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving behind a hurt Robin and a solemn Wayne.

Once he was out in open air, Steve felt like he could breathe again. The feelings for Eddie plus the weight of not being one of the athletes was just suddenly too much.

He chew on his thumbnail as he dialed Dr. Hughes. “Please pick up. Please pick up.”

“Hello, Steve,” Dr. Hughes said warmly. “I was expecting you to call today for I took the day off to be available to you.”

Steve slumped against the building wall and huffed out a watery laugh. “Am I really that predictable?”

“No, Steve,” Dr. Hughes assured him. “Trauma is that predictable. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, seeing Eddie standing where you stood four years ago. All hopes and dreams and to have them taken away from you so quickly. You’re allowed to grieve that. I’m proud of you for reaching out.”

“It’s just so heartbreaking,” Steve said, fighting back tears. “I thought I could be happy enough for Eddie. But I just want to shake him.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or, you know, kiss him.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to admit to that one. You’ve been pining after that boy for so long, Steve.”

“It’s unethical,” Steve huffed, tilting his head back until it hit the wall behind him. “I’m his coach and I’m six years older. I can’t be lusting over a twenty year old that I have authority over. I don’t want to lose him by being removed as his coach. I think that would devastate us both.”

“That’s certainly true,” he murmured. “But you aren’t his coach right now and it might be a good idea to at least confront those feelings and see where it takes you. You can always find someone else to coach him. Promote Robin. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Steve chuckle was a little watery this time. “Yeah, I don’t doubt it. She’d throw me under a bus if meant getting a fancy coaching jacket.”

Dr. Hughes chuckled back. “Well maybe toss in a bag of corn chips and then she’ll throw you under the bus.”

“Thanks Dr. Hughes,” Steve said, smiling now. “Will it be okay if I call you more during the next two weeks?”

“Fortnight,” Dr. Hughes said in amusement, “the British call two weeks a fortnight. But yes Steve you can call me at any time. Doesn’t matter the time, all right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks again. And hopefully it won’t be too soon.”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was,” Dr. Hughes said gently. “Trauma is like a box with a button in it and a ball rotating around. At first the ball, life if you will, will keeping hitting the button. Over and over again. Then with time, therapy, and good support system the ball gets smaller and starts to ping off the sides and at odd times, often when you least expect it, the ball will hit the button.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Steve whined, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s like in ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’,” Dr. Hughes explained with a chuckle, “when the squirrel pops the balloon and nothing happens but when Kuzco yells Ha! it wakes the panthers. It’s a bit like that.”

“Oh okay,” he said. “I think I get it. Something bad will happen and you think it will trigger it but it doesn’t. Then something you thought you’d be fine with suddenly awakens the sleeping panthers?”

“That’s it exactly,” Dr. Hughes said approvingly. “You get some sleep and maybe a small snack, both will help with the feelings you have.”

“Thanks again,” Steve said and hung up. He looked up to see Wayne and Robin standing a respectful distance away. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“Don’t you be apologizing for being overwhelmed, you hear?” Wayne said dryly. “It’s not your fault we’re a pair of idiots.”

Robin came up and gave him a big hug. “Yeah. We’re really sorry. But you’ve got to tell us when you get these feelings, we can’t read your mind, okay?”

Steve nodded into her arms. “I’ll try to but sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere and I can’t control that.”

“Roger that!” she said with a sniffle. “I’m guessing just now was one of those moments where it just hit you?”

“Yeah,” he said letting out a shuddering breath. “I was watching Eddie laughing with his teammates and it just suddenly became too much.”

“You always were wet, Harrington,” a sneering voice said from behind them. “I just didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Steve turned around slowly. “Billy Hargrove. I was ultimately surprised Jason made it through the trials. Who did you pay off to take the hit in his heat?”

Billy’s sneer grew to a snarl. “You always thought you were better than everyone else, Harrington but look at you now. Crying in an airport.”

“You always were a better liar than you were a swimmer,” Steve scoffed. “Maybe you should run along and leave the winning to the people who know what that looks like.”

“Bitch,” he snapped and stormed off to a rental Jag that was waiting for him on the curb.

~

Eddie would have flopped face first into the mattress but he was pretty sure that if he did, it would collapse under him. His roommate was a guy named Trent York, who also had been his seat partner on the flight over. They had a lot in common. They liked D&D, fantasy movies, and

they both grew up poor.

Alas, Trent not only as straight as an arrow, but was planning on proposing to his girlfriend if he got on the podium for any of his events.

God, he wished he had been able to stick around with Steve and Wayne and Robin. But Steve had been there before and knew how hectic it was when they first landed, right?

Right?

But when he turned around to wave goodbye, Steve had this look. Like Eddie had done something wrong. And as much as he hated to admit it, it took him awhile to figure out why. From Wayne and his friends’ point of view, it looked like he had been flirting with Trent and then hurried to get back to him.

Which had not been the case and he really didn’t want to have have to overexplain to Steve that it wasn’t what it looked like. Eddie already felt like he was pressuring Steve into something he didn’t want to do.

Which he was absolutely not about, at all.

He laid gently on the bed and flopped awkwardly around so that he was face down into the pillow.

Trent, who had gone to the bathroom huff out a startled laugh. “I really don’t want to know, man. Just don’t bring anyone back to the room and I won’t either.”

Eddie mumbled something in reply.

“Sorry I didn’t catch that,” Trent said sitting down on his bed.

Eddie turned his head so that it was no longer smashed into the pillow. “I’m in love with my swimming coach from back home.”

“Ah.”

Trent looked around for a moment and then spotted a folding chair nearby. He grabbed it and set it up next to Eddie. Then sat on it backwards.

“That’s rough shit, Ed,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine what I would do if Lucy was my coach instead of the one of the girls in the club I swim with. Does he know how you feel?”

Eddie sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “Yeah. And he feels the same. He’s just worried that swimming commission will remove him as my coach and as all the other coaches where I swim are stuck up snobs, they wouldn’t take me on and I’d have to quit again.”

“Ah ha.”

Trent thought for a moment. “There are a couple other options.”

Eddie scoffed. “Like what?”

“Tell them to fuck off?” Trent suggested. “It’s discouraged not forbidden.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Eddie said rolling his eyes. “But he’s got some serious trauma and has anxiety.”

“Who did you say your coach was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Okay,” Trent said, his eyes wide in shock. “I’ll admit that even I would tap that if I was gay. Holy shit. Plus like God tier level skill in the water, too. Yeah. Okay. That certainly makes things harder.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie huffed. “So what were your other suggestions for wooing said God?”

Trent pursed his lips together. “Find a coach willing to teach you? Like maybe go to a different pool. Just don’t give up, okay? You really don’t need this right now when you’re about to compete on the world level.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Thanks, Trent.”

“Any time.”

~

Eddie made a huge show of apologizing to Steve about how he flounced off when he should have been more attentive.

Steve laughed. “Eddie, I’m a neurotic mess and you’re human. I’ll okay. I promise.”

The smile that he got in return was blinding. Yeah, okay. He really wanted to kiss those lips. But he was going to wait until after his first meet.

Which was in only twenty minutes.

“Go on!” Steve huffed, shooing the menace away. “You’ll be late and I will not have that over my head.”

Eddie raced off as he shook his head fondly.

“You always did have terrible taste,” Robin said dryly.

Steve pushed her playfully. “Yeah, sure. This coming from Miss ‘Tammy Thompson Doesn’t Sing That Bad’, I don’t believe my taste is any worse than yours.”

Robin cocked her head to the side and then shrugged. “Yeah all right, that’s fair.”

Steve started tapping Robin’s arm. She turned to growl at him, but he pointed at the doors that would lead to the pool.

“What’s Chrissy Cunningham doing lurking outside the pool?” she asked with a frown.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Steve growled, stalking over to her.

When she saw him coming she let out a startled yelp. That brought Steve up short. She turned to them slowly, like a deer in the headlights.

He leveled Chrissy with his best stern authority glare that he patented with his youth swimming classes. She wilted.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, nervously twisting her fingers together. She looked over at Robin and then blushed. “We’ll need to hurry though.”

She turned on her heel and dashed in the direction of the judges.

“Wait!” Robin cried out as Steve and she hurried after her. “Where are we going?”

Chrissy whirled around and still walking backward said, “The judges need to know that Jason is planting more drugs in Eddie’s locker right now.”

Robin and Steve looked at each other in shock.

“Shit!” they said together and hurried to catch up.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[meelusinee]

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ★ R.B X J.P X READER

in which you and regulus escape to james' house after a failed house party (no thanks given to walaburga in this house <3)

pairing: regulus black x james potter x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: drunk reader at the end, but that's it

author's note: i wanted to get a quick one out there just for funsies, so I thought why not these two? thank's so much for the support to everyone who's liked and commented and followed too!!!

It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth with you Tell me all the things you wanna do I heard that you like the bad girls Honey, is that true?

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU | REGULUS BLACK X JAMES POTTER X  READER

James Potter and Regulus Black were complete opposites.

Regulus Black was a prim and proper man. The second heir to the Black family, the most prestigious Pureblood family within the Sacred 28. An excellent seeker with an eye as sharp as a needle, easily able to pick a Snitch out of thin air. Neat and professional, always tailored to perfection no matter when or where you look at him. Quiet and calculated, able to do anything to someone all in the drop of a hat.

James Potter was a messy and muddy man. The only heir to the Potter household, a home full of love and warmth ever since it came together. An excellent Chaser able to throw Quaffles as easy as blinking his eyes. Cocky yet charming, jumbled in a way that was endearing to many no matter when or where you look at him. Loud in a friendly way, able to befriend anything all in the drop of a hat.

Even still, they had their faults.

That fault was always you.

Regulus found himself growing bolder within your presence, his journal full of scattered and obsessive thoughts about anything to do with you. The way your face shines in the sun, or the way it gets even brighter whenever you smile. He often found himself giving you small flower crowns or trinkets, like a worshipper worshiping its deity.

James, however, found himself growing calmer within your presence. His head was full of nothing whenever he was around you, nothing more than static he wished he always had running through his mind whenever he was out in public. He often found himself giving you more affection than anyone could think possible, like a sloth latching onto a tree branch for his nap.

Even though they were opposites, you brought out the best in both of them. And in return, they saw each other in a way they felt almost no one else could. Every kiss to you meant a kiss to Regulus for James. And every thought about you meant a thought about James to Regulus.

Which led them both to where they were right now, both with you in a way that made their hearts soar.

Regulus and you were both sitting in the backyard of the Potter Manor. Nobody else was home right now, but the both of you needed an escape from the party going on at Regulus’ house.

Which led you both here, listening to the car engine running through the streets and closer to you two. The sun was shining down on the backyard field, pollen and small dandelion fluffs running through the air and itching both of your noses.

Your heads turned as you heard the door of the car close, a small whistling tune ringing in your ears as whoever was driving got closer to you.

James. 

You chuckled softly as he dramatically turned around the corner, both of you watching as he ran up to the both of you much like a golden retriever.

“Reggie!” he smiled, leaning down dramatically and kissing his forehead before moving to yours. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my love. And you too, Y/N. I missed you as well, don’t you forget it.” 

“We won’t, Jamie.” you whispered, kissing his lips. “Do you have any beers?”

“If my dad doesn’t count his stash.” James said mischievously, his hand patting your head before he rushed off to get three cans. “I’ll be back!”

You and Regulus both giggled, his body scooting closer to yours as you watched James run off. Regulus’ hands moved to wrap around your waist, his fingers messing with the belt of your sundress. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re an utter sap.” you giggled, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your lips rested on his cheek as his hands toyed with your belt, the both of you watching as James ran back out of the house with three beers and three swimsuits. 

“What on Earth is he doing?” Regulus asked incredulously, a small smile on his face.

“We should go to the pool!” he said, running up to you both out of breath. “We could go swimming, or we could maybe play a game. What do you say?”

You and Regulus turned to each other before giggling at James’ ridiculousness, the two of you getting up to walk to the pool.

The sun was shining down on the pool as Regulus and James sank into the water, James’  arms wrapping around Regulus to help him swim.

“It’s not that bad, baby.” he whispered, chuckling softly. “You can still stand even in the deep end!”

“It’s water!” he hissed slightly, the water freezing against his skin. “I could drown. Do you want me dead, James? Drowned and buried?” 

“You’re not going to drown.” James chuckled, his thumbs caressing his waist. “I’ve got you.”

Regulus was about to complain again before his eyes darted over to the entrance of the pool, his eyes widening slightly as he watched you walking towards the pool.

You still had your sundress on, a small tray of fruit in your hands as you put it at the edge of the pool. “Are you two having fun?”

“Massive fun.” James chuckled, placing a kiss on Regulus’ cheek. “Right?”

Regulus nodded, his hand rapidly slapping James’ back as you moved to take your dress off. Your fingers moved to untie the belt holding it up, the zip falling down as it fell off your body. Your hands grabbed your swimsuit as you put it on, a pattern similar to your sundress.

Regulus and James were both staring at you, eyes widened and jaws dropped down to the floor. 

Regulus absolutely loved the way you looked, at least 20 different poem lines or song lyrics running through his mind as he stared at you. Like you were a holy and divine being he worshiped.

And James was looking at you like a ray of sunshine or field of flowers. How could something like you exist in the same world as he did?

You turned around and chuckled softly at the look on their faces, your body moving to slowly wade into the pool. “Hey there, you two.”

“Hi.” Regulus whispered, clearing his throat before saying it again. “Hi, mon amour.” 

“Hi there, baby.” James whispered, letting Regulus stand in the water so they both could wade towards you and cover you in kisses. 

“You’re both the best.” you chuckled softly at them, wrapping yourself around James and leaning in for a kiss before doing the same for Regulus. “I love both of you, do you know that?”

“Yes, we do.” Regulus whispered, kissing your jaw as James’ buried his nose against your hair. “Meethee, are you wearing perfume?”

“Perfume?” you asked, before nodding. “That vanilla one you like. Do you still like it?”

“Oh, mon cœur. The woman that you are.” Regulus whispered softly at that, taking a small scent of the perfume before pulling your lips in for another kiss. “Merlin, I love you so much.” 

“I did it for you,” you whispered, giggling as you felt James kissing your neck. “That tickles!”

“All for us?” he whispered, looking up at you with a gaze so sweet you could melt it like molten candy. “You’re so good to us, you know?”

“Says you.” you giggled.

“What on Earth even happened at his parent’s house in the first place?” James asked you confusedly, looking over at Regulus who had drunken over three beers in twenty minutes. He was standing under the pool shower now, his hair dripping water as he stood in it.

“Lots of yelling and stuff.” you whispered, frowning softly at Regulus’ state. “Plus, Bellatrix was acting like, well, Bellatrix. You know how she is.” 

“Maybe he needs to drink it off?” James whispered, looking at you. Neither of you liked Regulus drinking, though you did know it was a way for him to cope. And until he could escape the hellhole he lived in, it was what worked for him.

“Muggle bar?” you asked him curiously.

“Muggle bar.” James nodded at you.

The both of you got out of the pool and walked over to Regulus, playing with the shower nozzle for a minute or two before drying everyone off.

“Do you want to head to a bar, Regulus?” James whispered, his fingers running through his hair.

“A muggle bar?” Regulus whispered, his eyes shining slightly as he looked up at him.

“Yeah.” James smiled.

Regulus sniffled dramatically, hugging James tight. “You love me so much, don’t you?”

“Both of us do.” you whispered, nails gently scratching at his back. “We love you, ‘kay? We’ll stay sober so you can get drunk, as long as you take a Wiggenweld Potion after we get home.”

“And a Sobering Potion too.” he promised, kissing your forehead lovingly. “Thank you, my love.” 

“Don’t thank us.” you whispered, helping the both of them walk up to James’ room so you could all get ready for the bar.

“Is James going to stay sober?” Regulus whispered softly to you, watching as James looked through his shirt collection. His eyes unabashedly traced the muscles of his back, smiling softly at the sight.

“I think so. He doesn’t like getting drunk, you know how he is.” you chuckled softly. “A big health nut he is, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.” Regulus whispered, turning to you with a curious expression. “Are you going to get drunk with me, pretty girl? I have extra potions if you need.”

“If I ask James, maybe.” you whispered, before pouting softly at Regulus. “As long as I don’t get the vodka you like. It burns.”

“Of course not.” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll get you all the drinks you love.” 

“I’m going to beat you!” yoh slurred, the pool stick in your hand swaying slightly as you angled it to the white ball. “Just you wait, Reggie.”

“You’re going to try, pretty.” he chuckled softly at you. He was holding his alcohol a lot better than you were. “And then you’re going to be sad when you lose, y’know that?”

“Nuh uh.” you said, giggling softly as James walked up behind you and helped you line the stick up.

“That’s cheating!” Regulus chuckled, leaning against the table. 

James chuckled softly as you started drunkenly bumbling, taking over the pool stick and hitting the ball against the others. “Look babes, you’re solid.”

“I’m solid?” you asked, looking up at him as you pulled him into a hug. “I think I’m starry.”

“Starry?” James asked, kissing your forehead as he watched Regulus shoot his shot. He shot about three in a row, impressive for how many drinks he had already. “How are you starry?”

“Because you��re giving me a hug, and it’s starry.” you whispered, giggling as you bounced over to Regulus. “You make me starry too!”

Regulus chuckled softly at your drunkenness, realizing rather quickly that you probably wouldn’t be able to play pool nor darts. He still didn’t mind entertaining you though. “Did you know my name is based off of a star?”

“It is?” you asked, clapping your hands together. “We’re stars together!”

“Yes we are, mon cœur.” he chuckled softly.

“And Jamie has to come with us too.” you whispered softly, looking over at James. “I don’t want him feeling left out, okay?”

“Of course he can come with us.” Regulus chuckled softly to you. “He’s like the sun.”

“The sun!” you giggled softly, before stumbling into Regulus’ arms. “Sorry Reggie.”

“It’s okay, just be careful next time pretty,” he whispered, smirking softly. “You wanna watch me beat James’ ass in pool?”

“Yeah!” you giggled.

James had been smiling the entire night, ever since he saw you two in his backyard.

You were wearing a different dress, one that was black and a bit puffier at the end of it. Regulus was wearing all black attire as well, a black silk shirt with black slacks and Doc Martens. Right now, the both of you were standing by the bar, sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of people who looked a little better than average.

You were both absolutely beautiful. And absolutely wasted.

“I think this is going to be your final drink.” he whispered softly, grabbing you by the waist when you sat next to him.

“What?” you whined, looking over at Regulus. “Why is he cutting us off?”

Regulus shrugged, taking a sip of his drink as he looked at James with puppy eyes.

“Nope, not falling for it.” James muttered, dramatically tossing his head to the ceiling. “We’re going to get you two your potions and then we’re going to head home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“On the contrary to the message you are trying to spread,” Regulus slurred out, hiccuping at the end. “I believe we should be able to consume alcoholic beverages however long we want.”

“And I believe that I don’t want you sick tomorrow.” James said, looking down at Regulus. “Don’t make me do it.”

“You won’t!” you gasped audibly.

“I would.” he said sternly, putting as serious of an expression he could on. “Don’t test me.”

“No, no!” Regulus said. “We’ll go.”

“Good.” James said, chuckling softly as the both of you stumbled to put your glasses back at the bar. Oh how he loved you two.

“Okay, who’s in bed first?” James asked, looking at both you and Regulus in matching pajamas.

“I believe that it’s your turn for mutual cuddles.” you mumbled sleepily, patting the bed down for James to get in. “Go on Jamie.”

“Oh,” James nodded, looking down at the bed before smiling. “My turn it is.”

“Your turn it is.” Regulus hummed, crawling in and wrapping his arms around James. You were much more uncivilized, wrapping your entire being around him contently. 

The lights turned of magically as you all got comfortable in the bed, small sighs escaping your mouths as your eyes closed. Regulus’ grip tightened ever so slightly, his hand grasping yours in his sleep. Your body stayed wrapped around James, though your calf somewhat covered Regulus’ leg.

And James was content laying in the middle and spread like a starfish, smiling as he listened to the both of your breathing gently. James wouldn’t have this any other way. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH POST OF THE CENTURY (really its not) i'm waiting for my amazing poll votes to come through, so i'm currently just posting up whatever on earth feels like posting before i head out for the day. thank you guys so much for the support it geniunely means so much!!!

AS ALWAYS please like and comment and reblog and all of that snazzy snaz snaz, and i hope you have an excellent day!

[daizedndconfused]

You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

--

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

[maybankswhore]

BESTFRIENDS GIRLFRIEND.

a ‘mini’ continuation of this fic here!

summary: the night at the beach seemed to be long forgotten. or that’s what you thought until a stupid treasure hunt leads you and jj sharing a place in a locked incubation device and he helps you remember where it all started.

a/n: just recently finished season four & that scene w kiara and jj gave me the perfect idea. i know it doesn’t really ‘match’ the timeline of the last one but we can all pretend that it does <3

warnings: voyeurism , , mean!jj , reader that plays naive , fingering , use of afab anatomy , mentions of cheating , heavy petting.

You should’ve known you were setting yourself up for failure. The minute you saw the slight smirk on JJ’s face the minute you offered to take Kiara’s place— you should’ve known something was going to happen.

Though , almost getting killed and getting your life saved by JJ Maybank was definitely not on your BINGO card.

Things between you and JJ hadn’t settled since that day night. If anything , it only made everything worse.

You were grateful another adventure opened up for the time being because pulling away from John B made you feel sick. You were eaten up by guilt , fear that your dirty little secret would blow up in your face and you’d have to own up to what you’ve done.

You could only imagine the devastation it’d cause John B and the disappointed looks from Kiara and Pope. The idea alone made your stomach sick.

JJ made it impossible to forget. He never brought it up. Not once. But that look in his eyes every time he looked at you made that same familiar feeling from that night on the beach wash up all over again— and you just knew.

You laid there in absolute dread in silence. Your eyes had opened before JJ’s and the immediate feeling of pure terror overcame you. Your memories washed back up and as the bends slowly faded away , the reality of the situation sunk in.

Practically quarantined with JJ , in this closed space , for twelve hours seemed like the test of a lifetime.

As he began to stir away , you swallowed harshly and scooted away. You clutched your necklace , anxiously fiddling with the string as you desperately search for nearby nurses.

“My savior.”

His voice was raspy. A hint of edge around the words as he cleared his throat roughly.

Silence filled the air pretty quickly and JJ’s mouth made a sound. He played it casual , coy like he always did. Cocking his head towards the side , he stared at you. “Ignoring me?”

Again , you decided to stay silent. Your cheek was raw with how hard you were biting it.

JJ sighed. “You know , I’ve been waiting to get you alone since that night on the beach.” He murmured. “A bit offended you actin’ like nothing happened.”

He was baiting you and you knew it. You refused to give and kept staring out the circular window.

“C’mon , Y/N. . .” JJ drug out your name barely above a whisper. You could feel him inching closer making you start to feel hot , your ears burning at the tips. “Have you fucked him yet? After me?”

His question made you flinch.

“Stop playing little miss innocent —” JJ narrowed his eyes , bringing up his index finger to your chin. Everything in you was screaming at you to not make the same mistake twice , to stand your ground , to fight him. . . but you were like putty in his hands. The minute you felt his skin on yours , you felt a fire where he touched and your head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. “I know you think about it. About me.”

JJ looked into your eyes and paused , before a wide smirk developed on his face. “You haven’t , have you?” You didn’t need to say it , it was written all over your face. You were never good at keeping secrets. You were always so easy to read.

Especially by him.

He knew you like the back of his hand. All that pining had finally paid off— in his mind.

“How come?”

“JJ stop it.” You mumbled , moving to push his hand away. But he didn’t care. Instead he turned on his side to look at you , feeling like the first time all over again.

God , he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About you.

John B was his bestfriend , his brother , but you— he couldn’t help but be addicted to you. He couldn’t change it and he didn’t want to. He’d risk loosing it all , everything , just to have you.

“You liked it—” he taunted. “You liked it so much , that I ruined your sweet little pussy for anyone else. It only remembers me. It only wants me.”

You shivered and shook your head. “No. I—I love John B. You’re acting crazy.”

“Crazy?” JJ let out a dry laugh. “You should know just how crazy I can be , baby.”

“He’s your bestfriend , JJ.” You sighed and shook your head , pushing his hand that was starting to drift downwards away. “You know this is wrong.”

“I don’t care if it is.” JJ scoffed. “I meant what I said that night. You were supposed to be for me.”

His words made you shiver. The memories crashed onto you like waves , so vividly that you could almost feel exactly how you felt sprawled out on the sand with your legs wide open just for him.

JJ noticed your reaction and smirked. It only pushed him further. “You know it , don’t you?”

You pursed your lips. Pushing your chin up defiantly as you scooted closer to the window , putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

JJ rolled his eyes. “C’mon. You might be able to lie to yourself and lie to John B— but you can’t lie to me, baby.” He murmured softly , delicately. There was a teasing tone to his voice that irritated you because you knew he was right and you hated yourself for it.

“You’re acting crazy , JJ.” You whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed that this was all a dream— a nightmare. Though the warmth of JJ’s breath and how your heart beat so loudly you thought it’d beat out of your chest , you knew it was real. Too real.

“Maybe I’m just crazy about you.”

Suddenly everything began to feel hot. The all knowing fact that you were trapped in this stupid metal bubble , next to him , it all started feeling too much. Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead , and your hand twitched. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and you weren’t sure what you were more bothered by.

The claustrophobic , suffocating feeling: or the thump between your thighs that you wouldn’t be able to blame on alcohol.

Light as a feather , his fingertips tapped across the smooth skin of your thigh. He watched you in satisfaction. Loving the way you responded to him despite you trying to fight it. “It’s just you and me in here , baby—” he cooed in your ear. Leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the side of your neck , making your breathing hitch. “Nobody’s gonna know.”

“I–I’ll know.” You answered softly , still refusing to look at him. You hated the way it began to hurt. How it started to burn with a certain need that only JJ could subside. Everything in your body was screaming for him. To feel him again. But your head was fighting it.

“That never stopped you before.” He quipped back.

You turned your head to look at him again. Looking into his eyes that had a certain darkness swimming inside of them. You hated it. You hated him. Most of all , you hated yourself for how badly you wanted him.

Without another thought , becoming slightly delirious and deciding to cave and give in , you rushed forward and pressed your mouth against his. On instinct , he was there. Kissing you back feverishly , gripping onto you like a man starved. He tasted of saltwater and weed , the familiar taste bringing out a soft moan from your throat.

The sound made him smirk. He liked knowing you had given in. That he got what he wanted.

And he was going to make the most of it.

His hand slipped between the two of you , immediately cupping your sex. You gasped , breaking the kiss for air. He hummed in response , rubbing soft and achingly slow circles. “Beg for it.”

“W–What?” You breathed , taken off guard.

“You heard me.” JJ said again , halting his movements. JJ gripped your chin , looking down at you. “Beg me for it.”

“JJ—”

“Beg.”

He wanted to know he had the control. The power. You knew it. As much as you wanted to deny him of it , to refuse it , you couldn’t. It ached agonizingly , just looking at him ignited something within you. Your whole body was on fire and now that it started , there was no way you would have enough willpower to put it out.

“Please. . .” you whimpered , arching your back to feel some type of friction again. JJ wanted to groan right then and there, give in to you. But he refused. He ignored the way his cock was hard and angry , rubbing against the fabric of his underwear harshly. Frowning , you grabbed onto him , fisting his shirt to bring him closer. “Please touch me , JJ. Please. I need it. I need you.”

Your words were like a song to him. He let out a groan deep within his chest and kissed you again , harder , letting his tongue slip past your lips as you gasped when his hand pushed the fabric of your tiny shorts to the side.

His index finger ran up your slit , basking in the slickness. JJ smirked down at you , cocking his head to the side. “Your pussy loves me.” He boasted , and you weren’t in a position to disagree.

“Still my dirty girl , huh?” JJ moaned , sliding his finger inside of you. He grunted as he felt your walls stretch out , the tightness of it amusing him. “I knew I ruined you for him— can’t fuck him now , huh? Too busy thinkin’ bout me?”

You only responded with a moan , throwing your head back as you felt yourself fill up.

JJ watched you with a glimmer in his eyes. He swore had had never seen something hotter. The way your eyebrows scrunched up , your lips pursed , he could your feels contracting around his finger and he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. “You want more , baby?”

“Yes , JJ , yes. Please. . .”

“Tell me your mine.” He demanded but his voice was softer now. Almost pleading.

Your mind was hazy. You almost couldn’t understand what you were saying— but you knew in this moment it was true. “I’m yours , JJ. I’m yours.”

“Fuck.” He muttered. Dropping his head to kiss your neck , he added in another finger , rutting against the side of your thigh. He pumped his fingers in and out of you , curling upwards just enough to graze over the spot you needed most.

“Yes—” you breathed. Your head lulled to the side and your toes curled. It felt good. The coolness of his metal rings that slapped against your clit each time he pumped his fingers in and out sent jolts up your spine. It felt frivolous , like you were a school girl getting fingered by her first person. But JJ knew just what to do. He knew what you liked , how to make it feel good.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” JJ said , kissing your mouth. You moaned into it , shaking underneath him as the feeling of his mouth on yours amplified the pleasure you were feeling.

The familiar feelimg began building up in your tummy and you gasped , pulling away as you used him to steady yourself. He sped up , just a little , keeping the same place as before. He cooed in your ear , kissing and sucking on different places. “Cum for me. Cum for me , give it to me.”

With your head thrown back , you felt your legs shaking. A dirty , loud moan left your mouth , one that made JJ’s ears ring. You grinded against him , riding out your high.

“My fucking girl—”

You came down breathlessly , with a new urge. You quickly attached yourself to him , wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. He kissed you back hungrily , grinding into you.

You jumped when you heard a knock on the glass.

“Sorry to um— interrupt.” The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly , looking away. “We need to check your vitals. . .”

And just like that , the weight of the world and your decisions fell back on your shoulders.

[mxltifxnd0m]

your skin on my skin ⇝ i. lahey

summary: seeing isaac between your thighs only happened in your dreams, it could never become a reality... right?

AU: where isaac came back from france and stayed for the rest of the series and everyone is going to the same college

pairings: isaac lahey x reader, isaac lahey x fem! reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', smut, oral fem!receiving, fingering, fluff, reader and isaac being lovesick idiots, implied p in v, characters are aged up to 18+ and in college, title is a lyric from fragile by laufey, kinda edited

a/n: RAHH i haven't written for isaac since july, so apologies if hes a little ooc but i miss him dearly so here's my first smut for him!! again minors please DNI please and thank you <3

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You made eye contact with Isaac’s cerulean eyes as his breath ghosted your bare stomach, making goosebumps rise against your heated skin as he sunk in between your open legs. You let out a shaky breath as you tipped your head back into the plush pillows, breaking the intense gaze between you and Isaac. 

You don’t know how you got to this position. Well, you do, but you never thought in a million years that this would be happening. Having Isaac in between your thighs only happened in your dreams and imagination when you had the apartment to yourself and wanted to work off some steam in your room, your vibrator on the highest setting as it worked over your sensitive and swollen clit. 

You had the biggest crush on Isaac since you met the scrawny kid in freshman year back at Beacon, since before you were pulled into the supernatural mess with Scott and eventually Isaac himself. But you hid it well. At least, you thought you did until Lydia cornered you one day and confronted you about your crush on him. 

You shrugged it off, of course, denying that you had liked him at all and that he was only your best friend, but Lydia was smarter than that, having caught you looking at him longingly as he stared at Allison. 

When Allison and Isaac got together, it hurt a lot. The pain of having the guy you liked start dating one of your best friends was one you wouldn’t wish on anyone. But you played it off and only teased Allison about the irony of being a hunter and being into werewolves. She laughed it off, but Lydia could see the pain in your eyes every time Isaac mentioned her or you saw the two of them close to one another. 

So when Allison died, you felt conflicted. Half of you was devastated that one of your best friends was gone, forever. But the other half was relieved that she was. You felt so guilty that you felt that way about Allison but kept it to yourself, internalizing it and locking away the information for life. 

You knew the toll that Allison’s death took on Isaac, but you guys still had the nogitsune to deal with. Once that was taken care of and you tried to talk to him about what happened with everything that had happened in the past year, he was gone. He fled to France with Allison’s dad. The pack didn’t know if he was going to come back, so you decided to swallow the devastation that flooded your veins at the thought of your best friend not coming back and moving on. 

But as the new year started and moving into your second semester of junior year, your eyes met a familiar pair of cerulean ones in the crowded hallways of Beacon Hills High. You felt your heart race at the fact that Isaac came back. 

From then on, you never really moved on from him. You tried, but he was always stuck in the back of your mind. Even throughout the craziness of the following year and a half of high school, the two of you stuck by each other and with the pack. 

After high school, you and some of the pack members went to the nearest college and decided to live in the same apartment complex. Stiles, Scott, and Isaac lucked out and got a bigger unit than you and Lydia did, but it didn’t matter since they usually came over to your place since it was “cozier.” You scoffed at them because they didn’t bother to furnish their apartment as well as you and Lydia did. 

“Hey.” Isaac called out your name softly, making you snap out of your reverie and look back down at him. His warm hands were settled on your thighs as his chin rested on your stomach and his gaze intently staring at you. 

Isaac’s were slightly swollen and pinker than usual from the heated make-out session that had started out of nowhere; well, it didn’t start out of nowhere. 

It was a Saturday night, and you didn’t feel like going out with the rest of the pack, so you decided to stay in and relax. You had expected Isaac to go with them, but to your surprise, he stayed with you. 

It was slightly awkward at first. The two of you hadn’t hung out for a while without the rest of the pack hovering around you since he came back from France. It’s not like you actively avoided spending one-on-one time, but you guys drifted apart when he came back, and the active threats to Beacon Hills didn’t help with the space between the two of you. 

You tried not to show that you were nervous around him, knowing he could hear if your heartbeat was erratic or not. You had planned to watch a movie in your room, so you invited him and joked that it would be like when we used to before he became a werewolf and hid in your room for a couple of hours before he had to go back to his place. 

The smile Isaac gave you at your invite had destroyed the plan of masking your fondness for him, feeling your heartbeat slightly faster at the sight of it. 

You sat next to Isaac when you finished setting up the movie, the two of you resting against your headboard, shoulders brushing against each other as the two of you settled in your queen-sized bed. 

You kept your eyes trained on the TV, the opening sequence of Iron Man flicking through the LCD screen. But Isaac couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in your features being illuminated by the dim lighting of the fairy lights you hung around your room. He smiled, remembering your dislike for overhead lighting and preference for mood lighting. 

You took a chance, glancing at Isaac and finding that his gaze was already on you. You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes. 

“What?” You murmured. 

Isaac raised his hand hesitantly, brushing a wayward hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear before resting his palm against your cheek. You almost shivered at the soft caress of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. 

“Nothing.” Isaac said with a half smile on his face, slowly inching his face closer to you. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to be unphased by his touch. “Really? Because you’re not watching the movie.” 

“You know I don’t care for Marvel.” Isaac smirked. 

“Then why do you sit through the movies with me?” 

“Because you like them.” Isaac stated as if it was obvious while shrugging. 

You looked at him dumbly, your mouth slightly agape. Isaac chuckled lowly before he moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck and rested his forehead against yours. 

Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as you felt his breath fan against your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Isaac whispered. 

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you placed your lips against his, drawing him into a soft kiss. It was a short and sweet kiss, but it contrasted how your body filled with heat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours. 

Both of you pulled away, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before your lips collided once more. The kiss was filled with passion and all of the unsaid emotions that you guys had yet to admit to one another. 

Your body had a mind of its own as your lips moved against Isaac’s. You moved to straddle his lap as your hands dived into his blonde curls while his hands made their way to your hips, guiding you to his lap. The warmth of his hands seeped through the fabric of the sweatpants you were wearing. 

You felt Isaac’s tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, a silent request that you accepted. You moaned softly at the feeling of Isaac’s tongue softly intertwining against yours. You unconsciously ground your heated core against the growing bulge in his jeans. Isaac let out a low hiss, making the two of you pull apart from one another, a string of spit connecting the two of you before it broke. 

You couldn’t help but the giddy smile that broke out on your face, your stomach flipping at the sight of Isaac’s wide grin as his hands moved from your hips to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. 

He tugged on it slightly, the unsaid question written in Isaac’s eyes. You nodded, and he slowly pulled it off of you, exposing your bare chest to him. You saw his gaze widen slightly, and you let out a small giggle at his reaction. 

Isaac smiled wider at the sound of your small laugh, his heart swelling with love, and he laughed a bit when he felt you tug at his own shirt. He leaned up from the headboard and shed his own shirt, your palms settling against his chest once the offending item of clothing was flung across the room. 

Isaac had a sly smile on his face, and before you could question him, you let out a small yelp as he used his werewolf strength and agility to put you on your back. He hovered over you before he drew you into a kiss that left you breathless. But it only lasted for a moment before Isaac trailed his lips down your jaw. He nipped and kissed at the skin of your neck before moving down your collarbone and towards your breasts. 

Isaac left teasing kisses in the valley of your chest as his hands moved from your sides and to the waistband of your sweatpants. 

He looked up at you, his breath fanning over the slightly wet skin of your chest. “Can I take these off baby?” 

You felt yourself melt at the softness of his tone and the pet name. “Yeah.” You gave him a gentle smile. 

Instead of responding, Isaac left a tender kiss next to where your heart was and slowly pulled down your sweatpants. As every new inch of you was exposed, Isaac kissed the skin as if it was fragile. You couldn’t help but the lump that grew in your throat at how tender Isaac was being. 

Isaac called your name again. He was looking down at you, chin no longer resting on your stomach. Isaac was hovering over you again, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You alright? We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.” 

“M’fine.” 

“You sure?” 

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “Just-” You inhaled sharply. “I don’t know if this is going to be a one time thing.” 

Isaac shook his head. “Trust me, it isn’t for me. Is it for you?” He asked, nerves coloring his tone. 

“No!” You almost shouted before you cringed at your volume and cleared your throat. “No, I’ve been embarrassingly in love with you for a long time.” You admitted sheepishly. 

The grin that was on Isaac’s face was blinding. He kissed you hard before pulling back. “Thank god.” He breathed out, relieved. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time. Ever since I came back to Beacon.” 

You didn’t have any words to respond with, so you put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him, pouring all of the love and adoration you had for him over the years into it. Isaac couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before he deepened the kiss and blanketed your body with his, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt. 

You moaned at the feeling of his denim-clad bulge brushing against your heated cunt, your underwear almost soaked through as the two of you made out. Isaac broke the kiss and eventually made his way back in between your legs, his heated stare directed at the wet patch in your panties. 

He threw your legs over your shoulder as his face drew closer to your cunt, leaving feather-light kisses on your inner thighs. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing in anticipation. Isaac started to kiss you lightly through the wet fabric, making you moan softly. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He breathed out before taking one of his hands and pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your soaked core to him. 

You could see the hunger in his eyes as he stared at your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Isaac praised, and you clenched at his words, biting your lip in hopes of keeping the whine that threatened to escape your mouth. 

Isaac couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction, but instead of teasing you, wanting to save it for next time, he leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, and your hands went to fist at your comforter. 

A breathy moan left the confines of your throat, and Isaac licked a strip from your slit to your sensitive nub, collected the slick leaking from you, and swirled his warm tongue around your clit. He drew it into his mouth, sucking on it softly. 

One of your hands left the mattress to clutch at his hair, a low moan emanating from the boy in between your legs. The noise sends vibrations to your cunt and fills your veins with pleasure. Your cries and whines filled the room as Isaac ate you out like a man starved. You had barely registered that the bed was moving slightly due to Isaac rutting against the mattress and that he had ripped your panties off of you and completely dove into you, his tongue deep in you as he thumbed at your clit, wanting to wring out as much pleasure from you as possible. 

“Oh fu-uck.” Both of your hands were in his hair at this point. “Shit, Isaac.” You could barely form words between your moaning, the heat in your core building rapidly at his ministrations. 

Isaac smirked internally and moved his mouth to suck at your clit as he inserted a finger in you, the tugging at his hair and your moans spurring him on to try and make you cum. 

“Isaac.” You whined at the feeling of your cunt finally being filled. 

He quickly added a second finger, slowly thrusting in and out of your slick cunt. “Yeah, baby?” Isaac asked, pulling away for a moment, kissing your inner thigh, and tilting his head to look up at you. He could stare at your blissed-out face forever, it being the second most beautiful thing he’s ever seen from you (the first one being your smile). 

“I-i need to- fuck!” A choked moan leaves your lips as Isaac’s fingers brush against your g-spot. 

Isaac grinned. “Need what? You gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.” 

Through the haze of lust, you could hear the teasing tone of his words, but you didn’t care. “Please, let me cum.” 

“There you go, pretty girl.” Isaac began to pump his fingers harder, making sure to hit your g-spot with every thrust, and latched onto your swollen nub again. 

“Fuck!” You felt the knot in your core threatening to snap. You were practically writhing in your bed, sweat coating your body as Isaac continued to finger you. 

“I’m-I’m-” 

“Let go sweetheart.” Isaac mumbled into your folds before pressing hard against your g-spot and sucking your clit hard. 

The knot snapped, and a keening whine left your lips. Your warm walls clenched against Isaac’s fingers. His fingers slowed, working you through your orgasm until it subsided. He pulled his fingers out of you gently, mindful of your tender cunt. He peppered small kisses on your thighs, trailing up your body, waiting for you to come down from your intense high. 

You felt Isaac shift, resting next to you, and his hand brushed away the hairs that were stuck to your slightly damp forehead. You opened your eyes to find Isaac looking down at you with a gentle but shy smile on his face. 

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped your lips at how bashful Isaac was being and placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss, uncaring if you could taste yourself on him. 

Your lips melded with his, and you felt like you could kiss him forever; his lips were soft and warm against yours. Before you knew it, the kiss grew heated again. Isaac’s jeans were soon discarded, and his deep groans joined the chorus of moans that left you and filled your room as the two of you drew pleasure from each other.

Wolf whistles and clapping were your wake-up call the following day, your friends loitering outside of your room as they saw you and Isaac wrapped up in one another underneath your sheets. 

[here’s my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

[ssentimentals]

Minghao + suggestive prompt 8 please. Love your writing style, thankyouu ♡

hi anon, happy that you're loving the drabbles :) thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'don't give me that look.'

'this would look so good on you!' minghao thrusted up several dresses in your hands. 'now go and change.'

'what about you?' you asked, unsure. first time shopping with your boyfriend made you nervous. 'go and check men section while i'm changing.'

minghao shook his head, sending you a reassuring smile. 'it's okay, let's first finish with you.'

you nod, going to the changing rooms with bunch of clothes in your hands. it'd be hard to call you a fashion enthusiast, but shopping with minghao sounded like such an exciting idea that you agreed immediately and you could see why - while you went and chose clothes from your usual style, minghao picked something completely different on which you'd never look on your own. wanting to appease to him, you changed first into one of the dresses of his choice, not recognizing yourself in the mirror. you never went for more open things in general, not out of modesty but more of them not being your style, but the slit on the leg of this dress made you look... dare you say, sexy. the 'i did a double take' kind of beautiful. it felt good - you smiled, albeit a bit out of your element and walked out to patiently waiting minghao. he was on his phone but at the sound of footsteps he looked up and froze with his jaw open at the sight of you.

'what do you think?' you asked, trying to sound more flirty than insecure. yes, you two are together but you still had hard time believing in it. 'i think it's alright.'

minghao swallowed. 'it's not alright,' he said strongly, coming up closer. 'it's gorgeous, my dear. you are utterly gorgeous.'

minghao always complimented you left and right but this one sounded a bit different. and it had a lot to do with his gaze, with the way his eyes roamed on every single inch of your body with a hunger that you never saw before. it made you feel inferior, made you cock your hip a bit to the side, accentuating your waist. minghao's eyes instantly snapped there, intense. this gaze of his started fire in your chest and you gulped, turning away. 'don't give me that look,' you muttered shyly, taking one step back.

'what look?' minghao asked, smirking at the way you bit your lower lip. he chuckled, deciding not to tease you anymore. 'it's hard not to, love. especially when you look like that. but i'll try, yeah? go and try another dress.'

you didn't want to try another dress. you wanted to go somewhere, where minghao could pull you close and whisper everything what he thinks right in your ear, making you moan. minghao could read that in your gaze and before you turned around, he grabbed your wrist: 'or not. go and change, grab this dress and another too - i'll buy them and we're going home, love.'

now that sounded like a good plan you'd gladly follow.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[nabinabipumpum]

CAN I BE THE FIRST? - 08ᴹⁱⁿʲⁱ ˣ ᶠ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Pairing - Kim Minji X f!Reader

Genre - Fluff, angst, written + smau

Synopsis - Y/n always tried to manage on her own, especially with the family she had, but after becoming a trainee she realized that not everyone hated her. After the debut she still tries to deal with her feelings, but everything becomes even more confusing after having to approach NewJeans for better coexistence in the company.

Warning - mention of mom and daddy issues, self-acceptance problems, mention of homophobic parents, Y/n is starting to accept herself

Previous | Masterlist | Next

3 weeks ago…

You looked up at the ceiling as you listened to the music on the speaker.

All kinds of thoughts went through your head, in the end you weren't actually listening to the music.

You didn't understand why it was so hard to just accept and be who you were, you were forcing yourself to be someone who wasn't you, someone you didn't want to be, just to please someone who never cared about you.

You ignored some of Minji's messages, giving the excuse of being busy with the schedule for your first comeback and she understood that. At least that's what she said, because she didn't understand why you responded to Haerin and Dani every day but not her, were you just busy when it was her?

You also avoided her in the company corridors whenever you could, you almost bumped into each other a few times but you avoided it, but she noticed and it was making you confused.

It turns out that you exchanged common dreams and some nightmares for just dreams with Minji, the two of you in the bookstore, in your room, on the beach, on the company roof, you dreamed about her confessing or vice versa and now you didn't know what do it or say it to.

You heard a few knocks on the door before the familiar girl came in with a can of pringles, “for you,” Miya smiled and you sat up as you watched her sit on the edge of the bed and hand the object to you.

"Thanks."

“You look sad.” You looked at her for a few seconds.

I shouldn't say anything. She is my friend. I should trust her. Maybe she will help me. Maybe she'll fake it. She's the only one who will listen to me.

“Kitty?” she snapped you out of your thoughts “Tell me what’s going on, everyone has noticed how distant you are.”

“I…” she encouraged you to speak and got closer when she saw that her voice would sound low “I think… maybe… no, it's bullshit.”

"No! If it bothers you then it's not bullshit, trust me, I'm here to listen to you.” She intertwined her fingers with yours and squeezed lightly, you looked down and then the sheet on your legs seemed more interesting than looking directly at her.

“I think I like Minji… but, we’re from the same company and… that’s stupid, I shouldn’t, it’s wrong.” you felt your eyes burn and your voice cracked during the last words.

“Don’t say that, there’s nothing wrong, look at me.” It took you a while to finally look at her, now the tears were rolling down your cheeks and you sniffled lightly. “It's not wrong that you like her, maybe it's even a good thing, she might like you too.” You denied it and put your head in your hands.

“They’re going to fight me, mom said I was going to hell.”

“You don’t even believe in God.”

“Coming home is hell.”

A few seconds of silence between the two of you, just the music from the speaker playing low and you cried even more when a NewJeans song started playing. Miya patted your head and sat down next to you, her arm wrapped around you and you relaxed a little. Why were you so scared?

“You’re already home, no one can hurt you here.” you remembered your parents’ last visit and how you were almost shaking at being so close to them again “It’s okay that you’re not straight, everyone is on your side, we want to see you happy.”

“Right.” you sighed and wiped away some tears that were still sliding down your face “I just… this is weird…”

“Take your time.” You nodded and placed your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you… for being here.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” She smiled and squeezed you a little tighter, you nodded “It’s going to be okay.”

“How are you sure?”

“Your life has been bad enough, it’s time for you to be happy.” you didn’t have time to process her words “Come on! Get ready and let’s go out.”

“But we have to sleep in three hours.”

“You don’t have an option, get changed while I call the others.”

Taglist: @gtfoiydlyj @cloudinwjns @yncoreee @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @ourlovesarang @saysirhc @yuyuy90 @he------len @vrtualstar

[stone-stars]

edit: THIS POST IS ABOUT NADDPOD. hope that answers any questions <3

[screampied]

#TRYNA FUCK ME I'M LIKE OKAY! g. suguru

☆ sum. suguru geto wasn’t used to losing a race, especially to a fucking rookie—but you’ve got him confused, intrigued, and… hard? long story short, ever since he hit it he’s never been the same.

wc. 6.8k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, 2 fast 2 furious references, bratty reader, rivals to lovers ( ? ), geto has a dīck piercing, big size kink, riding, he fucks you on the hood of your car, cunnīlingus, sore loser geto gets humbled lel, overstim, squīrting, dirty talk, praise, petnames.

an. chase atlantic inspired me again </3 same au as this one.

second fucking place. he got second place and he lost to you, a newbie—the newest racer with the prettiest trendy wheels, flashy rims, and a hot pink 2001 honda s2000. stupid, stupid, the reality of losing left a sour taste in geto’s mouth. he can’t remember the last time he’s lost, ever. .

the moment he saw your car bolt in front of him at those last few milliseconds of the race with fiery pink smoke coughing from your steel pipes dusting near his front window, he just knew he lost to you. geto scoffs. “tch,” he’d mumble, slamming his car door shut, and releasing the straps of his custom-made helmet. you leaned against your slick hood, innocently fanning yourself with a pamphlet of the track’s course layout that was given to every racer before glancing at geto. he was quite tall and he looked down at you with a look of intrigue and bitter annoyance. “cheater.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow. you knew damn well who he was, suguru geto—one of the if not the best street racer in tokyo. notorious for his wins and extremly cocky ego - except this time, your win against him bruised that little detail a bit. a small grin spreads across your glossed lips before your eyes rove up and down his dark leather ripped clothes. “you said somethin’?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” he utters, bringing a gloved hand up to his face. doing so, geto tucks his sticky black tresses back inside his helmet. he’s so close, that he practically has you cornered against the hot hood of your car and his eyes stare at the medal that’s pinned near the left side of your chest. that gold medal that was supposed to be his. “besides,” and you nearly gasped once you felt your rear tap against the front of your vehicle. “your ‘riding’ could use a ‘lil work, rookie.”

you saw the look in his eyes. he’s challenging you, geto sees you as a potential threat and he wasn’t fond of losing.. ever.

it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

you don’t know why but beating one of tokyo’s top street racers made cocky pride swell right up in your chest. the same kind of cocky pride that he was used to, and damn were you a force to be reckoned with. he just had to learn that the hard way.

“do i?” you reply, reaching an arm inside of your car to twist the keys out of the ignition. with a roaring sputtering growl, your engine gradually turns off and the sounds of whirring wind fill the air.

geto’s got his hands buried in his pockets as his tall lean body stands still. he’s checking you out.

his head slightly tilts to the side with his helmet cracked open and you can feel his eyes trailing up your entire physique.

he’s studying you - trying to figure out just who this pretty girl that just dusted him in a race.

you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t idolize him just a little bit. he was well known not just in tokyo but worldwide. the fangirls loved him, and the racers despised him with envy.

beating the suguru geto was a rare fever dream of itself.

“or are you just upset you’re not in the spotlight for once?” brat.. though your comment made him scoff with a sly smile curling against his thin lips.

“mm. for a new racer you sure have a smart mouth,” and his eyes quickly dash toward your car.

hot pink, it even looked freshly new and painted. and just to put the icing on the cake, it also has a pretty character design painted near the sides with the addition of a cheetah print wheel.

he lost to . . that?

geto’s quietly admiring your ride though—it looked like it was straight out of a movie. once he looks down at you again, he speaks in a gruff intimidated tone, finishing his sentence. “it’s only your first win, don’t be cocky.”

“i’ll be cocky if i want,” you murmur, and there’s a loud competitive tension between you both.

people started to leave the car meeting spot until it was just the two of you. your car’s parked near one of the garages where geto’s car was coincidentally parked also. you’re still leaning against the pink hood of your car before walking up to him. you close the awkward distance between you both, being just a few inches apart.

you’re bold, and he liked your spunk although he’d never flat-out admit it.

just . . . who were you?

geto didn’t like losing—that’s already been established. but now, he’s starting to realize he probably has to deal with you in future races, and oh- he knew you were gonna be a problem.

and he was right, because perhaps he’d finally met his match.

“besides, even if i did cheat,” you retaliate, your tone sounding more and more coy and foxy. playfully, your arms wrap around his shoulders and you tap against his sheer black helmet that had ‘s. geto’ autographed in bold purple near the other shell. vexed, mousy eyes glare at you through the protective gear and you lean up all the way close. “what are you gonna do about it, suguru?”

famous last words,

because one moment you’re being nothing but a mere brat and the next, you found yourself bent over the hood of your pretty blush-colored honda.

well, fuck.

suguru geto didn’t take disrespect lightly . . although, he liked the brat in you. a nice change of pace, even though it pissed him off a bit - a lot.

“s- shit,” you gasp, feeling your thighs squeeze together. geto’s domineering aura sends you chills, the kind of chills where it runs through your entire soul.

he’s so close that you could almost taste his loud cologne on your tongue. it’s a manly scent, you’d probably guess one of the main ingredients was oak moss. as you’re pondering deep in thought, still trying to get over his loud smell—a hand gingerly starts to brush down your skimpy lace-up chaps.

his touch felt good. . and sure, maybe you’ve fantasized about this exact moment once or twice while watching his races broadcasted on live television. geto’s pressed up against you as you’re idly hunched over, biting your lip. with a huff, you’re so close to your tinted window that you were practically having a staring contest with your rosy windshield wipers. “aw. you planned to spank me over my car?”

“not exactly, pretty girl,” he tsks with a clicked tongue, and that’s when you feel it. something poking against your rear — oh, he was hard.

it was something hard and you don’t quite think it was his helmet..

that couldn’t have been anything else other than a raging boner, and it makes you smugly hum. geto groans once he feels your ass wriggling against his skin-tight leather jeans. “think you’re funny, yeah girl?”

“a bit,” you utter in a breathy tone, feeling his fingers zig-zag down the exposed straps of clothing that reveal a bit of skin. you didn’t mind his touch - in fact, you only wanted more.

the inside of the garage was widely spacious—big enough to fit your car and geto’s iconic skyline gtr. it’s a gorgeous midnight dark purple that glimmers in the dead of night, akin to a raven’s wings.

with the garage lot being empty, it was just the two of you, the witching hour steadily approaching. all that could be heard was the occasional squawks and chirps of squaking birds and loud cars honking near the far distance by the freeway. as he’s still got you pinned over, you bite your pointer finger with a cheeky hum. “hilarious even.”

but, you don’t find anything funny moments later when the street racer’s tongue is shoved right between your splayed, plush thighs.

not at all, in fact- the only ‘words’ that came from your mouth were babbling inaudible whimpers, and he made sure you’d eat your sentences… just like he’s eating out your first place cunt like the starved man he was.

with widened eyes and a stretched jaw hanging open, you stare back with a hand on your ass, giving your skin a soft squeeze. geto grunts, on his knees as you’re hauled right over your pretty decorated hood.

hell! you figured he’d ask to rematch but this..

it seemed like all he wanted to do was take out his loss on your pussy… with his second-place tongue.

and that’s just what he does too.

not that you were even complaining—suguru geto was a nasty man to no one’s surprise. he’s nasty on the road and he’s even nastier with his tongue recklessly driving up and down your slobbering twitching cunt.

you feel a crooked nose sloooowly drag its way like a trail against your entrance. geto starts near the bottom and then makes his way up, making sure to have his button nose dripping with your mess. letting off a sweet whimper, it doesn’t take long before he’s starting sucking against your swollen clit.

“hng,” a needy whine dashes from your throat, and you can already feel a shaking judder spasm between your legs. geto’s unapologetically sloppy with his mouth too. as he’s repeatedly flicking the pointed pink tip of his tongue in crazed different directions, a throaty hiccup leaves from your glued lips. “fuuck, do you usually mhm--do this to your opponents who hah, beat you?”

“only the ones with the smart fuckin’ mouths,” he replies with a quickness, taking a moment to spit right on your sticky cunt. it’s a loud ‘ptui’ and it’s a filthy slimy trail that dribbles past his lips, polishing near the creasing crevices of his mouth.

a rubber-gloved hand snakes toward the crack of your pried open thighs and he spanks your pussy, causing a cute shrieking squeal to leave out your strained cords. “also, a reminder again. you didn’t beat me. i let you win. big difference.”

“s- sure,” you sheepishly moan, feeling vapid air circle around you both.

the night was eerily and silently dead—you swallowed thickly, praying no one would see you bent over your flashy pink hood getting eaten out by one of the most famous street racers in the world. although, the thought of getting caught made you throb in a way you didn’t think it would.

he’s mean with his tongue.

geto was competitive in everything he did, including with how he ate it.

your strapped pants were pulled down along with your panties lazily sticking toward the side of your feeble quaking thighs.

within minutes his jaw would angrily ache, growing slack and locking from how it was reaching soreness - but he didn’t care.

if he didn’t win his race, the least he could do was win by eating you out…right?

geto’s designer mauve-colored helmet probably costed thousands and rests near the side of him. he took it off before he started to feast himself between your sprawled legs.

through hazed doe-like peripherals, you stare at it and admire the designs that paint across his visor.

everywhere, there’s writing and designs—and again, you spot his famous autograph that’s nearly written near the side. typical, of course, he’d autograph his helmet.

he’s suguru fuckin’ geto.

regardless though, you’re still nothin’ but a whining mess though, and as he continues to eat you out, you let off a sweet ‘ooh!’ as soon as he bites near your pearly clit.

it’s soft and tender, but it still makes you babble out a sobbing moan. his teeth gently nibbled against your pussy . . . leisurely slithering his tongue between your flooding flaps.

so good, each time you hear the wet smacks from his lips, you can hear geto huskily groaning out satisfying ‘mmmh’ ‘s.

it’s a feeling that makes your legs stagger within the firm hold of his hands. geto’s still wearing his gloves and each time the stretchy rubber rubs onto your skin, you moan. “fuck, fuckk,” you whine, and he’s groaning right against your sobbing cunt. his hair’s pinned back into a high messy ponytail - a few ravened strands running down the sides of his face. pretty long lashes of his were closed as he was slurping you clean.

so damn sweet . . . he wonders why he’s never seen you on the track until now. well- you were new. maybe he has seen you, but geto’s never been one to pay attention.

either way, you were a meal he didn’t wanna stop tasting, ever.

and despite the bitter taste of defeat continuously lingering on his flat tongue even still . . your cunt sprinkled a bit of flavor to it, an aftertaste of vying rivalry . .

“mmph,” he grunts, feeling you push him further into your cunt with one hand. with a twist, you turn your torso just a bit to look down at him, bringing his face further. geto’s slick wet tongue slides across your nub before he’s sloppily thrusting it in and out of your weeping flowery entrance.

you whimper once he reaches that spot, feeling a sudden heave of a breath snatch its way out from your puffed lungs. geto’s dark brows amusingly knit together and he’s already nose deep—the hooking bridge that smears against your pussy makes you nearly wail out a needy weep.

he’s smearing his face everywhere, and wet splotches of your juices started to coat his clear face.

but he doesn’t mind - geto’s always been one to get a ‘lil dirty during a match.

two slack lips munch against your clit wholly before his lengthy tongue reaches toward your winking hole. “pff,” he clicks his tongue, letting off another husky groan once he feels the tint in his pants arises.

fuck, you made him hard—even more, now that he was eating you out.

the louder you were, the more his dick twitched underneath the rough fabric of his jeans. it’s almost painful- the way his hardened bulge prods its way against the leathery fabric makes him suck his teeth. he needs you.

geto’s lips remain glued against your cunt before he uses a gloved thumb to peel your pudgy sweltering folds apart just a biiiit more.

his tongue creates a downward slope that trickles its way below your clitoral hood that’s frantically throbbing right in his mouth.

ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. . .

pulse pulse pulse after fucking pulse,

a smoky chuckle echoed from his lips as his shoulders slightly shake and fuck- it vibrates against your pussy. “god, she’s a ‘lil crybaby isn’t she,” he breathlessly mumbles as his thumb peels your soaked flaps all the way down. he’s intently staring inside, studying all the pretty nerves and your twitching nub before spitting right inside yet again.

airy cold breath fans over your nude slit and you whimper, feeling his tongue douse itself back inside. “were you drivin’ around this wet the entire time, princess?” and you moan, feeling the rubber of his palm smear a few circles around your clit. “drivin’ around, tryin’ to beat me with a pretty pussy this fuckin’ soaked?”

with a shivering whimper ghosting past your splintered lips, you snivel out a soft mewl.

“sugu—fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” and as your breath gets caught in your throat, you feel him grab a nice chunk of your ass.

at his very grip, he gives your rear a rude spank and the recoil makes him hum in amusement. so soft, the way it bounced just from his palm alone.

oh, and spanking you became his favorite thing to do, especially since you were so fucking noisy.

as a shrilling whine prepares to race out your strained esophagus, you nearly yank his head forward again, hearing him groan against your clit. “d- did you hear me? ‘m close, gonna cu—”

“yeah yeah girl, i heard you,” he swats your hand away, and the low grit that rumbles from underneath his tone makes you throb for the nth time.

geto brings a few digits up toward your cunt to rub against your runny folds, and he starts making out with your pussy - with tongue.

sloppy smacks slosh out from your crying folds and you gasp, feeling him impishly nip your clit with his teeth once more. “mmf,” and his eyes start to become low and hooded.

he’s pussy drunk, very much so.

geto eats you out until you’re abruptly coming undone on his tongue, letting off a sweet euphoric battle cry with your toes curling in your knee-high boots. fuck, and even as he’s savoring the syrupy taste that pours on his flat flushed tongue, he’s still eating you out.

with brief circular maneuvers of his tongue, he’s got you whimpering from the sensitivity. as a staticky twinge pulses through your pussy, your hand grabs at his hair hard, tugging near his roots, having to literally pry him apart.

your cunt was so sensitive, throbbing a plethora of pulses as your mouth fatally goes dry. “f- fuck,” you moan, and you can feel your legs stick together once they instinctively close shut.

“tsk. drama queen,” he soils his lips together that were now perfectly glossed from top to bottom with your juices.

oh, his chiseled chin was just shimmering with such sparkling sap that it even poured a stream down the lower part of his face. his tongue slides near the cracked corner of his right lip, and he’s just luxuriating at the treacly taste of you. if you tasted this good, maybe the second place wasn’t so bad after all. .

as he’s still lapping up his lips with a wolffish grin, geto notices you openly gawking at his bulge and he snickers, patting his fly with a gloved hand. “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“it’s rude to walk around with a bulge that big.”

“oh yeah? how ‘bout you fix that problem for me then, rookie?”

a brat, almost as much of a brat as you.

geto gets silenced once you slam your lips onto his, not even batting an eyelash that you’re tasting yourself on his tongue that’s swirling around yours.

it’s intense, you could feel your heartbeat start to match the exact pulsing pace from between your legs. his lips were icy, and you moaned—tasting a bit of mint that resides on his tongue.

his breath is freezing cold, it’s an almost sweet candied taste and you whine in his mouth once his hands start to roam up and down your body.

geto’s feeling you up- feeling up the pretty girl who just beat him in a race.

rough protected hands drag down your frame, taking in your curves before toying with the leather straps that droop against your pink lace-up chaps.

it’s as if even the kiss was far more competitive than the actual street race.

both desperately fought to win, swerving through each tongue like swerving lanes.

geto grunts, lightly pushing your ass back against the hood of your car. as tongues twist and tango in lewd unison, he seductively sucks on your pointed tip.

as geto’s eyes open halfway, you open yours, and he’s just staring at you with a look of feral - a carnal smug grin tweaking on each side of his lips.

“turn around again, pretty. hands on y’r hood like…this,” and once he spreads you apart, you moan once he rubs his bulge against the middle fabric of your pants. “good hah- messy girl.” his bulge was so damn hard, it felt like a brick.

the more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body ached and yearned for more.

oh..

his hands, geto kept his racing gloves on the entire time. as the stretchy rubber sensually crawls down your waist, you hear the jangling of his studded skull belt. with a few shuffles, he leans up close, pinning your hands behind your back like you were under arrest.

“just for the record again, you didn’t ‘beat’ me, you cheated,” and you scoff, feeling frigid air waft between your inner thighs. oh- here he goes again. talk about a sore fuckin’ loser.

“sur— mmph,” and he cuts you off, placing a gloved palm over your mouth.

“quiiiiet, you’ll get your turn to talk,” he cuts you off, and you let off a moan once you feel his bulbous tip smack against your sopping cunt.

it’s loud..

dozens of paps and squelches leave it right away and he plants a wet kiss near your exposed neck.

the rubs from his blushing reddened cockhead make loud noises that constantly replay through your empty mind.

“see? let her talk,” and you swallow thickly, feeling him use an extra hand to pry your legs apart further. clammy, big hands glue against the pink hood of your car before your tongue tastes the metallic fibers of his glove. “so eager. poor baby,” he coos against your ear, feeling you trying to swallow and gulp him down right away. your twitching pussy’s aching, and you can’t help the pathetic whimpers that hiccup from your lips. you even try to wriggle your ass but he rubs a hand underneath your clit. “aw, impatient are we? what’s the sayin’, princess? slow ‘n steady wins the race?”

‘okay…but i beat you,’ was what you were saying in your head… but you sort of forgot his hand was covering your mouth. duh girl.

“mmph—” you let off a muffled moan against the palm of his hand, trying to wriggle your ass against him harder.

geto lowly groans and then you groan, feeling what was a piercing that attaches toward his pre-creamed dewy frenulum. geto strokes himself a bit, fisting his cock. with hooded, jaded eyes, he watches his loose skin peel back before arising up again and he hisses. the frenulum perfectly hooks itself over his tip, and oh- how you wished you could have seen it.

you couldn’t see but, fuck did you feel it.

you’re so wet, your swollen pussy lips resemble a blossoming flower as he spreads you apart with two scissoring rubber fingers.

his dick piercing almost tickles once it starts to rub against you some more. he swipes it all against your clit, teasing it near your opening before pulling it right back out. “fuck,” you whine once he finally removes his palm from your mouth, glossy strands of your saliva coating the entirety of your hand. “h.. hurry up, suguru. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

geto rolls his eyes, and that’s when with a semi-loud thud, your chest lands against your hood.

“oh please..” he murmurs, a brow twisting upward in annoyance. one of his hands still has its grip on your wrists and you bite your lip in anticipation.

geto’s tip leaked with creamy coating pre, and you felt remnants of it sprinkle against your entrance. with a raspy grunt, he drags his angered pierced crownhead down your drooling folds before roughly smacking it against your cunt.

more sloppy wet splats! of squelches spurt out from your folds as if it’s saying its own kind of lewd language and he grunts.

geto makes sure you’re arched over the hood of your car before whistling at your presented frame. “so damn…pretty,” and within seconds, he’s easing his way inside.

immediately, your eyes widen with your jaw collapsing down like earlier—fuck, he’s big.

from the countless times, you stared at his bulge, you figured as much. geto’s vast head had a rosy-pink tint of vermillion with how close it mirrored to being a pinkish red.

sucking in a greedy breath, he watches as he’s gradually disappearing inside of your cunt. his pierced dick made things even more sensitive, and you moan once you feel the piercing softly graze its way inside of your fluttering orifice.

pasty gummy walls welcome him, and now it’s his turn to bite his lip.

“hng, f- fuckin’ big,” you try to inhale a single breath, and he raises your leg just a bit. it now sits over your hood- and damn it, the angle he has was just brutal.

you just knew you were gonna feel him everywhere.

geto’s obelisk-like girth was wide ‘n fuckin’ tall, you felt him fully and the shaft ring that’s on top of his top continues to kiss against your sensitive throbbing nub.

prince albert to be specific!

it decorates his tip perfectly, making sure to tickle inside of you as he’s feeling you clamp down. “shiiiit,” you slur out your words in a mere whiny syllable, gasping at the curved column of his fat dick search through your walls like a maze. he’s expanding through you and you can’t help but part your lips, squealing before letting off a cute, ‘ooohh!’

your hand prints stick against the pink-stained hood of your car due to the insane amounts of perspiration and you whine once he gives you one biiiig thrust.

just one- and ah!

it rocks your world - literally.

you let off a cute squealing shriek, your legs shimmying a bit from his pressed-up weight.

“atta girl, bare ‘round me, good girl—fuck,” and the warmth you envelop his dick with makes him groan. your pussy was clingy, already so eager to devour him whole.

within a few punctuated thrusts to start, geto’s finally fucking you and each vigorous piston of his honed snatched hips makes your crossed eyes roll back in needy rapture.

his hands now stick toward your sides and you’re just whimpering from his size over and over again.

weighty inches pound into you at full speed, giving you whiplash every time as he impales your sweet greedy cunt. “fuck, mhm,” you bawl a fist against your car, gritting your teeth. riiiight there, the moment his tip smooches its way against that pretty bullseye spot, it’s over. there, he locates a spongy texture with the mushroomy pierced crown of his cock and it earns out a sobbing whimper from you. “ahng! right there, fuck. faster, there sugu.”

“right there, fuuuuck. faster there, sugu,” he mocks your whiny babbles, fully exaggerating.

to hell with him, you didn’t even sound like that but oh, did he enjoy getting on your nerves. just like you did- cute.

geto’s hefty sack smacks back against you from each nudging thrust he creates with his hips. every time, it makes him groan at how your body cutely slams back against him. with how sharp your ass pounds on his dick, those pretty wet sounds singing straight from your cunt- a sound way better than screeching tire wheels. “god, so fuckin’ warm. hah, squeezin’ all around me,” and as his irregular breathing patterns pick up, he leans in to kiss a slope down your neck. “bend over just a bit more- hah. there we go, m- my good girl.”

as your chest continued to lie flat down against your car’s hood now—he’s got you at such an angle to where you feel his cock expand everywhere.

it reaches every depth and rummages through every open orifice or just about near it. “oh my god!” you whimper out, hearing the sloppy sounds of your cunt whistle through the silent night. geto’s hitting you deep, slamming his keen hips into you with such rhythm, and each time he does, your brain short circuits.

tiny invisible stars circle and float over your head as you’re completely dumbfounded, thinking about nothing but how big his cock is and the way his pierced tip just plummets its way in and out of your drooling cunt.

speaking of drooling—you were starting to drool from the slit cracks of your mouth. you couldn’t help it- his dick was out of this world, and maybe you were exaggerating but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. ever.

geto’s hastily rearranging your insides with just a few inches and it felt oh so good.

it was so good that you forgot the two of you raced together. you forgot about street racing as a whole, and instead, he had you dumb from his dick. “biiiiig fuckin’ stretch baby,” he’d grunt, starting to witness viscid stringy strands glue against each slapping thighs. geto’s dick slips out for a minute and he groans, gradually sliding himself back in.

it’s a sloppy ‘pop’ that rings between your cunt and it’s cute. you were wringing him dry, and with how wet you were, it wasn’t exactly helping things.

geto’s hot breath brushes against the open part of your neck before he gives your ass another playful swat. “fuck, that’s it. fuck back against me, don’t get lazy, uh huh. work those hips baby, f- fuck.”

as you weakly try to sway your ass into him to coordinate in sync with his crazed hips, he holds you in place—pumping inch after inch into you.

his cock sheaths inside between your syrupy-coated pussy almost effortlessly, and you let off a melodic moan the second his tip starts making out with your g-spot.

the pierced bulbous head dared to french kiss against there—making you writhe around him, on the verge of losing composure. you don’t think you’ve felt more sensitive than ever.

geto’s silvery dick piercing probes up and down your pearly clit every few seconds and he grunts at the gripping friction. “suguru…..fuuuck!” and as your words start to get bouncy, more sweet whimpers rose out of your sore throat. “more, more.”

“ungh,” he purses his lips together as he feels your cunt hungrily swallow his cock from top to bottom. with a rough pound, your ass smacks against his base—right near his tender plump testes and he groans.

such power-

even geto’s stunned for a moment, and his head throws itself back. the air surrounding you both starts to feel thick as smoke, and his eyes glance at your exposed backside that’s oh-so-pretty while arched.

all for him, and him only.

geto’s hips were simply maddened, and even he didn’t care about the race anymore.

well actually, maybe he did a little..

your pussy was brimmed with cock — sooo full, and you felt yourself starting to pant quicker and quicker. it’s as if you were having a literal street race with your breathing. geto’s getting lost inside of you, and it’s only a matter of time before his hips turn wildly sloppy.

gloved hands still reel you back into him as he’s breaking sweats within each long millisecond that passes. “pheww,” he’d wipe a sheet of sweat off his forehead, veins bulging in his beefy tatted arms. the drenching grip you had on his dick had him craving more…more of you.

the stoutness of his shaft jackhammers inside of your walls repeatedly until you’re on the verge of breaking yet again. geto grunts, the loud quick snap of his hips bringing him back to reality every time he’s about to go into another fantasm.

“fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” his words come out in a quiet rasp, and he claws a hand near the back crown of your head. “god,” his jaw tightens, and geto leans right up close to your neck, panting heavily against the outer shell of your ear. as long tangled tresses of hair freely cascade past his shoulders - all ruffled and messy from his helmet, he groans. “where do ya want it, sweetheart. tell m—”

“insideee,” you whine, barely giving him time to finish his husky words. your legs slightly raise against your headlight as it’s still stretched up and over.

geto’s still hitting you deep - so deeply good, swollen tip massaging every part of your clit and all. dozens of your toes curl up in erotic excitement as your tongue lolls out. you probably looked a sight. “inside, sugu, in- fuckin’- side.”

sassily smacking his lips together, he spanks you. “tch, dumb girl,” and the racer brings a hand to wrap around your neck. with a firm safe grip, his gloved thumb caresses a trail up your neck before he drills into you much quicker.

each snap of his hips draws out harmonic whines from you, gargled moans following out of your throat shortly afterward. the burn that’s twinging near the undersides of his thighs grows more and more intense before he geto lets out a guttural growl.

so……damn….. wet..

your flooding cunt’s slathering all over him, dripping near his base and he can’t help but snicker. “hah, fine. better hold still though.”

“fuck,” you whimper in response, feeling his sharp hips pound into you at such a pace. his rhythm was insane and there was no way in hell you could match his pace.

when it came to geto’s speed- yeah, you’d always lose. sure, you may have won today but when it came to his cock- you were losing with the hasty speed of his hips drilling into you at such miles per fuckin’ hour. .

as his turgid fat tip gives its final thrusting pumps inside of your cunt, geto’s body starts to violently shudder.

oh.. you were about to wring him dry. with a mewling slosh sound leaving the front your folds, you gush out yet again.

but at the same time…. so does he.

geto’s head remained tossed back with his round adam’s apple bobbing out of his throat. gnawing in the inside of his squishy cheek, he lets off a low grunt. his abs cockily flex through the white tee that tucks underneath his half-on leather jacket.

geto pulls out though, and it’s quick like the flash. he doesn’t finish inside to your devastated surprise, and a downturned pout forms on your lips. he huffs, watching such creamy-white amounts gush ‘n goo out in ropes and he sprays it on the outside of your pussy.

“damn,” he murmurs, feeling the awkward needy fidget of your hips. cute. darkened eyes remain on you the entire time and he grabs ahold of his veiny cock, aligning hit pierced tip against your pearled throbbing clit. “heh.. ain’t that a pretty sight,” and he smears it all against your pasty-creamed entrance.

now . . it’s painted with his color, white.

and geto came a lot because it’s still trickling out in ribbony globs, filthily oozing from the thick girthy sides and all like an erupted volcano. his teeth get caught by his quivering bottom lip as he watches such immoderate ropes of cum leave out of him. “such a- hah, messy girl,” and as he’s still lathering his sloppy seed that’s pouring out, sticking wads of splotches between the heat of your thighs, geto squeezes your ass. “awww,” he huffs breathily, noticing a few ivory stains splattered near the pink bumper of your car. “oops. might wanna clean that, sweetheart.”

hours passed . . many hours, and to say that you got fucked stupid was merely an understatement.

suguru geto had the stamina equivalent to a toyota supra MK4. his horsepower was his hips- with the added addition of his cock driving in and out of you.

but oh- you knew he wouldn’t be running out of gas soon.

or would he?

so. . many rounds, geto had you questioning your insanity the entire time, all because of his dick. if it was one thing he knew how to do, it was to fuck.

whether it involved his tongue or not, he knew how to make you feel good. it was one of the many things he excelled at, truly.

the only thing that got in the way was his cocky smug ego. every few seconds, he’d boast and remind you for the umpteenth time that your win was an unruly cheat, a hoax, or that he just couldn’t see the finish line because of your pink fucking smoke.

of course, geto didn’t say that part, that would have been him admitting that he lost the race and his pride couldn’t let him admit that he lost fair in square—

but your pussy could.

“hngh,” he falls back against your front cottony plus seat. geto grunts with a scowl entrapped in his thoughts. you pushed him - the audacity.

both of you were still sensitive but you had a tiny trick up your sleeve. “got some.. nerve,” and with low-dropped eyes, he watches you align yourself on his swollen pierced tip yet again.

he’s soft-flaccid, and he was pretty ran down. maybe now, geto was finally starting to run out of gas. with sweltering reddened lips smearing together, he watches you pick back up his expensive helmet, putting it over your head. “oh, gonna ride me while wearing my helmet, yeah? do your wors— oh.. fuck.”

his priggish words come to a not-so comedic halt the moment your cunt slams down on his cock. geto was still sensitive and he slouches back against your programming warming seat, dark eyes rolling back.

“goddamnnn,” and as your hips swerve around in circles identical to 360 car donuts, he sees you touching yourself while wearing his helmet. “fuckin’ brat—god.”

“aw,” you mock the exact faux caring tone he did to you earlier, making him touch you by bringing his shaky rubber hands toward your chest. geto’s fingers feel against the cropped top you wore, squeezing at your jiggling neglected breasts. “c’mon, sugu. i gotta guide your hands now too?”

“tch, shut up,” he groans, his heavy-sunken base sticking near your skin. dried splotches of cum glue against your sheeny ass as your hips continue to whirl ‘n rotate. you were unpredictable—you moved and jerked while he sat there with the most pussy drunken expression. geto lowly grunts, already feeling his balls starting to tighten up. he was trying to stop a sleazy grin from forming and oh.. was your cunt just making it impossible. “shit, ‘m not gonna last. s- still fuckin’ sensitive…. fuuuckk.”

the pink honda’s loud grumbling engine resounds through the echoey walls of the isolated garage with only the sounds of sheer skin slapping and a mixture of grunts following afterward. without thinking, you lift his helmet off of you, leaning in to kiss him and he returns the gesture almost right away.

geto’s lips were a tad bit delayed once they pressed onto yours. its a small yet cute detail- how he’s so pussy drink that he could barely crash his lips onto yours. as he’s moaning from your hands feeling on his burly tatted arms, his tongue sloppily delves into your mouth with no rhythm whatsoever.

maybe you were crazy, but you think you heard a whimper leave from his lips as he tried to nibble on your tongue. geto grunts, feeling that same pressure from earlier build up and fuck.. you were about to make a mess out of him . . . again!

his dick stills itself inside of you and his hands continue to roam down your body, further and further away from your jostling bouncy tits. “fuck ‘m cumminggg,” he’d moan between sultry kisses as stringy strands of saliva entangle with one another.

wetly, they form a web of sheeny lustrous cobwebs. geto’s foot rests against your bedazzled hard brake pedal before within seconds, he cums again.

this time, inside.

but it’s different this time- so so different.

it feels tenderly warm..

such hot gooey amounts dribble inside of you, spraying further inside your precious womb and you hum at the feeling.

his pierced cock fitting real nice and snug inside and you moan into his mouth, cocking your head in different directions as you trap his lips with another steamy kiss. “mmph.” a muffled whimper gets caught against your lips and you can already start to feel the whiteish searing ropes of fresh cum trail down the insides of your thighs. geto feels you slowing down on his lap—still buried balls deep, and he grunts in defeat..

soon, embarrassment overtakes him once he realizes how early he finished.

it’s a lot, again.

a thick load splatters heavily inside and past the inner lining of your cunt and he’s shivering underneath you. once you finally break away from his lips, your eyes meet his.

geto’s staring back at you, and you don’t see that cocky sly look in his eyes that everyone else sees.

right now, he looks…needy, and you think you broke him.

“what . . ?” he grouses, his hands still attached to your waist. his grip- it was gentle and tender a rubber thumb softly caressing down your curve. geto wasn’t ready for you to leave the garage, at least not yet.

“say it, pretty boy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss near his chin. your touch - it drove him mad.

never in a million years would he, suguru geto- have thought he’d get humbled by a rookie . .

humbled by you.

geto’s shooting straight daggers at you, but you can tell how flustered he is because he breaks eye contact a second later. you’re making him nervous, the same feeling he was making you at first when you had your first encounter with him.

as geto’s still warmly buried inside, he grunts once you take it upon yourself to softly wrap a hand around his throat.

oh- you were a mere tease, mimicking his exact movements from earlier. slightly wide-eyed and all, geto stares at you. and as he does—there’s that familiar glimpse of brattiness glimmering in his irises again.

you fucking turned him on..

“heh, f- fine then,” he stammers, heaving every few seconds to catch his irregular breaths. his body felt like it was on empty. no more gas left in him and that same cunning grin that plastered on his lips slowly started to fade.

geto’s not so cocky now, and in fact— he lets off a soft quiet whimper once you start to grind against his lap.

shakily, his hand squeezes your ass before finishing his sentence in a shaky defeated rasp.

“you . . fuckin’ win, sweetheart,” and you let off a sweet gasp once a loud smack! interrupts the moment, his hand swatting against your ass. “mhm,” geto grunts, “didn’t s- say stop. finish ridin’ me, sweetheart,” and his gloved finger swirls itself inside of your stuffed full cunt before pulling it right back out.

again, he’s filthy.

and even while being in such a state, geto brings his fingers up to his lips, slowly poppin’ them into his mouth before tasting the concoction mixture of both bittersweet messes. your syrupy cum and his.

quickly, he presses the tips of his rubber fingers toward his uvula, before staring at you with a greedy smug expression. he’s panting harshly, still trying to get over how you just outrode him literally, and he laps up his fingers right in front of you.

geto reclines your seat back a bit as you still straddled him, and he gives your ass its final spank before tiredly huffing,

“best- two out of three, what do ya say, r- rookie?heh..”

[tonycries]

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else. 

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof. 

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh. 

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him. 

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?” 

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this. 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Fuck. 

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?” 

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly. 

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin. 

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that. 

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom. 

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside 

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether. 

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God. 

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate. 

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway. 

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home  is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange. 

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him. 

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier. 

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all. 

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters. 

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-” 

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him. 

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.” 

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless. 

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him. 

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!” 

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-” 

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do. 

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem? 

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked. 

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having. 

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t. 

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below. 

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist. 

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.” 

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure. 

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him. 

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help. 

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face. 

Fuck. 

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”  

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate. 

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure. 

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls. 

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck. 

You. 

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand. 

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now. 

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted. 

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over-  “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt. 

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare. 

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him. 

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.” 

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real. 

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real. 

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face. 

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?” 

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first. 

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. 

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit. 

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine. 

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough. 

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but. 

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves. 

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips. 

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?” 

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need. 

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it. 

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw. 

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high. 

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good. 

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip. 

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive. 

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt. 

Gojo Satoru is massive. 

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt. 

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist. 

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly. 

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-” 

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good. 

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls. 

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties. 

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him. 

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out. 

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe. 

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit. 

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside. 

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy. 

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider. 

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.