#if you think otherwise you're lying to yourself

[somberomens]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ꨄ︎ ── .✦⋆.˚

dad’s bestfriend! jack o’connell + 20’s!woc!reader [pt 1/?]

wc; 6.1k

# i don’t even know how to defend myself on this one ☹️anyhow,  my first fic!! just enjoy it. on evb we gooning to jack!!!!

#likes shares and reblogs are VERY MUCH appreciated!! [also send me asks tee-hee]

warnings: MINORS DNI !!! DETAILED SMUT . second pov . oral [f!receiving] . dirty talk . squirting . riding. cum talk . worship . slight degrading [m!receiving] . teasing . face sitting + riding . slight foot play . grinding . jack is slightly perverted . i also made him slightly a sub . the reader is also perverted . reader is a tease and a bit bitchy (but in a sexy way) . reader is on the slightly wealthier side [plot purposes] . jack is a bit of a tease in this as well . a bit of a shy and cutely awkward jack too . gift giving [reader receiving] . fluff in the end hehehe .  reader’s dad is oblivious . this is just me being a horny unapologetic fuck. (credit for dividers)

since starting university, summers have become your favorite time of the year. a nice getaway from the stressful workload you were subjected to whilst undergoing new york university’s marketing major. you would think that you’d be doing coloring sheets for homework only to find yourself exploring the intricacies of what makes something successful to the public or not. you didn't hate it, but you always missed the various vacations your father would take you and your mother on, cape cod, greece, spain, bali, qatar, you name it; you’ve probably been there. this summer was a little different though, instead of some tropical destination, your father was taking you to the united kingdom for a month with an internship at WPP. while the internship would be only two weeks it was intensive and fast paced

“are you excited dear?” your father asked , he was proud to land you a spot at one of the top marketing firms. you were grateful as well, as much as you loved to be in the bustling city of new york it got a bit overwhelming and you liked a change of scenery from time to time. ‘yeah i am, i’m more excited to see what else england has to offer for me” you say with a slight laugh. “oh that reminds me,” your father added “i have a couple of friends i’ll be seeing, i want you to meet them too if you're not too busy of course. i know how you prioritize your work” you were a bit put off by it, your father was in his early 50’s as well as this he also was in the food industry as a michelin star chef. so you didn't want to hang out with some old men and all they were to talk about are sports, and food, nothing too intriguing for someone like you. “sure dad...i cant wait!” you say as you forced a smile. “great! i’ll let them know now!”

as the first few days progressed upon finally landing in london city airport you were a bit taken aback. the weather was bright and cool like it had been spring and not summer; the trees had been a deep green colour with flowers fully blossomed on them. you could see tourists and native out and about gawking at the architecture and scenic view of the area. you had to be honest, while you weren't all that easily impressed london was a really nice city and you'd be lying if you thought otherwise. as you and your father put the last of your bags in the car to take over to your hotel a man starts walking towards you both. he was of average height, wore a dark blue polo-tee that you recognize from tommy hilfiger, slightly baggy khaki slacks and dark dress shoes. very nice defined jaw, hair in dark brown short messy waves, nicely trimmed beard and an intense stare. he was really attractive, his stare was kind but piercing, he had a charm to himself; while simply dressed to your taste, he still looked good. you think you recognize him as well, from a movie? or show? he looks very familiar to you and he must be someone reputable as some people walk up to him in hopes for a photo that he politely declines. “aye man is that you?!” the man exclaimed towards your father. your father instantly recognizing the voice quickly turned from his phone and walked towards him “jack! it’s been so long hasn't it? I was just about to call you!” they had a brief discussion before jack had turned to you and asked, “oh eh, are you [name] ? your father has told me so much about you, he recently told me how you’re going to be working for WPP right? must be a smart young lady like he says” he says with a slight smile as he slightly sticks his hand out you have to thank your father for always finding some way to embarrass you by spouting about your business. luckily for you, you had been wearing your celine shades because if you hadn't jack would see how you were looking him up and down like he was prey. You can see how nicely built he is up close, toned arms, the shirt accentuating his biceps and his face is much more striking and rugged up close. you calmly stick your hand out to give his a shake and plainly say “sure, you could say that” “well i dont want to keep the eh, other guys waiting and its a bit hot out so we should head on down to the pub, its around here ‘cause i know you and ye daughter might be tired.” a pub? like a damn bar? He couldn't have chosen something a bit more upscale? however your dad seemed to have no issue with this as he happily obliged and was very excited to have you meet his friends.

you cursed at yourself as you begrudgingly tagged along as you had agreed earlier.

surprisingly, it wasn't as rowdy or unhinged as you expected it to be. you had ordered a lime mojito, nothing too strong especially considering that your internship starts the very next day and having a bad hangover would serve up a recipe for disaster. at the table you sit on the very end next to your father away from everyone else, it was all friends around your dads age or younger. you don't think anyone under 30 had been present, not like you minded, they were all just rambling about sports or something of the sort, some brought their partners who were conversing amongst themselves like you weren't even present. 

jack had glanced over at you a couple of times, at first you didn't know where he was looking but you quickly realized that he was staring down the deep v-neck of the sundress you wore. and if you were being honest? it was pathetic but at the same time you felt a bit of confidence rush over you as you push your glasses up and ask “do you need something?” he shuffled in his seat a bit out of slight shock and said “no miss, i…like your eh dress though.” you lightly laughed and gave him a coy smile “thanks, its a vintage piece from my mom” his cheeks turn a bit pink before glances over to the bar again like he wants another drink to distract from the conversion at hand but he knows he doesn't need another one. “hey” you start out “i see most people here with their partners, does a guy like you have a girl at home?” you ask with the same coy smile. his eyes grow wide before getting a bit sad as he says “no..i eh broke up with my woman a few weeks ago...bit sad isn't it?” “[name]? that was rude, he's just here to have fun with us and im sure he isnt interested in such personal conversations” said your father as he scolds you. truth is you didn't care about what your dad was saying but for the sake of being in the presence of others and trying to understand jack’s deal; you give jack your best doe eyes and say: “i’m sorry…i didnt mean to be rude, jack, won’t you forgive me?” as you blink up at him

his cheeks turn into a deeper shade as he stammers out “oh eh sure! i’m just going to head over for another drink..” ‘what a sucker’ you thought to yourself. the night continues once he comes back to the table and soon enough you all wave your goodbyes as you and your father head back to the apartment

the very next morning, you wake up to a couple of messages, the usual ones from your friends hoping you're having fun on your vacation but then you see a few from your father that were sent an hour earlier.

05:07┃dad: good morning dearest, i know today is the first day of your internship, please do well and make me and your mother proud. i understand that you’re not familiar with the area so i’m having jack drive you to the lobby since he knows his way around. i have a few meetings to attend and contractors to meet so i wont be back until late. hope i can make it up to you love.  05:07┃dad: by the way, be nice to him. especially after yesterday;  i suggested he take you out for lunch today at a sushi place since i know that’s your favorite. i would love for you two to become closer since he’s around your age.

he’s having that guy be your pseudo chauffeur for the day?? and even worse you’re going out with him for lunch/dinner ??  this couldn't be real. not only this you had gotten a text from some unknown number shortly after reading your fathers message.

06:27┃+44 ???: hello, it’s jack. I’m sorry for the sudden message but your dad had asked me last night if i could accompany you to your internship lobby for the two weeks you’d be attending it. just let me know what time you start and i’ll be on the way.

‘this is just so great isn't it!’ you sarcastically thought, the man who you had made fun of last night is taking you to work like you were some 5 year old with no sense of reality. you could have easily just called a cab or something but your overprotective father is really going all out isn't he? you wait a bit before saving the number and responding to jack, 06:33┃you: 08:30. 06:34┃jack: i’ll pick you up at 07:30.

you don't respond to the last message and make your way down to the bathroom to get yourself prepared for the day. “whats the worst that could possibly happen”

you’d gotten yourself at around 07:20 just before jack was to arrive and before you know it you get another text from him saying “dont know if you saw my last message, but i came here a bit earlier just to beat the traffic. just let me know when you’re out.”

‘he’s an eager one isn’t he?” you caught yourself smiling whilst reading the message he sent ‘oh god i’m not falling in love with this man’ you wait until 07:30 before you text him back stating that you were coming down.

you reach the lobby of the apartment and see him standing there waiting whilst talking to the doorman, he’s wearing a leather jacket with a plain white shirt underneath and dark blue stressed jeans. his hair is trimmed a bit shorter, framing his face even more perfectly than yesterday's. god you couldn't help yourself staring and unfortunately for you, you weren't wearing any shaded glasses since that would be deemed inappropriate for work so you know you’d have to keep your eyes to yourself. You start making your way towards him and he turns as he hears the small but sharp clicks of your black lace accented kitten heels. “very professional look you got on there miss” he starts as he looks up and down your frame “the skirt…wouldn’t that be a bit too short for the office?” you have to admit the skirt wasn't directly below the knees in fact it was a bit higher and almost risky. you could see it in his face how he got a little pink as if he was thinking about what may lie beneath them ‘such a pathetic thing’ you think to yourself. “i would change but.. it’s almost 07:30 and it’s a bit too late for that..” you say with faux innocence. snapping out of his trance he quickly stammers “oh yeah of course…wouldn’t want you to be late on yer first day wouldn't we?” nodding your head you wave goodbye to your doorman as you make your way to jack’s car. he opens the door for you and you two are quickly on your way. by the time you two make it, it's around 08:15 and before you exit he wishes you a good day and good luck, he reminds you that you two have a scheduled lunch at 3 once your day is over at a sushi restaurant. giving him a forced sweet smile you recognize the plan as you walk into the office building lobby.

first day was done, no problem. the staff seems to like you and you have seemingly become friends with a few of them. they offered to take you out to lunch but of course you remember that dreadful outing with jack that your father planned. it’s 14:05 and jack is out front waiting for you to come to the car. a few of the girls had spotted him and whispered amongst themselves about how cute he was before turning to you and asking

“[name] is that your boyfriend? he's super cute!” they say through giggling amongst themselves;

weirdly enough in that moment, you feel a wave of envy and rage slowly wash over you as jack is averting the gaze of those girls. you don't deny or agree to anything and pretend you didn't hear as you enter the car, jack follows along and before you know it you're on your way to your ’date’ with jack. as you both get seated, jack sits across from you and you observe the area. the restaurant was a quiet low-key dimly lit area, it was quite ambient with nice warm lighting. not many people are around as it’s more of a “night thing” per jack’s words but its not like you mind, you’re up to something this afternoon. your dad wants you to get to know him better? fine by you, nothing like a little bonding can do to strengthen this relationship. as you look through the menu you give jack a sly look and start “so… how long have you known my dad?” he doesnt look up and says “about eh..lets say 2 years? we met at the same pub i took you both to. ‘sentimental thing he is’ you think “sorry i asked you that question yesterday..i hope you weren’t upset dear” you say as you look to him with the same faux innocence at the bar. he slightly shifts in his seat and gives you a slight glance “its eh its okay, i know ye probably didn’t mean anything offensive” he chokes a bit on his words as he feels your foot drag up and down his leg. in a quick attempt to distract from the feeling he stammers out “m-menu looks tasty doesn't it? know what ye want?” trying his very hardest to make conversation bringing up a slew of topics, the food, the weather, his dog even. pathetic attempts really. “mm i think i’ll just get a spider roll and a spicy tuna roll maybe even shrimp tempura..” you start as you’re continuously dragging your foot on his leg “you know what you want?” you ask with a smile. “miso soup. maybe a couple of rolls” he bluntly strains as he looks dead at you. the waiter comes by with water and starters and takes your orders, you both gave enough to keep her gone for a bit. taking things further as jack is staring out the window you take the same foot and inch it closer to the center of his spread legs. “you know when i first saw you” you innocently start out as he quickly turns realizing what you're doing “i didn’t think you’d be such a pervert.” you end sharply as you press your foot to his crotch. he’s taken aback as he’s fighting a groan. “i know you were staring down my dress and looking up my skirt this morning. I wonder… what were you thinking about?”

the clink of cutlery, the murmur of low conversations, the warm amber glow of the overhead chandeliers—everything about this restaurant was designed to feel intimate, tasteful, elegant. but nothing could distract from the disheveled pathetic look on jack’s face. at this point, you weren’t even trying to hide it—your face innocent, eyes wide, lips curled just slightly in a not-so-subtle smile. like you were just so interested in whatever the hell he’d been trying to talk about

yeah, no, you didn’t hear a word of it.

your foot was making slow, lazy circles up his crotch now, the warmth of his body radiating through his pants, and god, was that a twitch? right there. just beneath the fabric. oh yeah, he was definitely hard.

you leaned in, elbows on the table, cleavage perfectly framed by the low neckline of your suit top. you licked a drop of your mojito from your lip like it was instinct. his gaze dropped like a rock. Realizing that he’s cracked he got a large smirk out of you

“so, jack…” your voice dipped just enough. a little velvet. a little smoke. you tilted your head. “you were saying something about your pets earlier?”

he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. you felt his thigh clench under your foot. “y-yeah. uh. just—just the usual. nothing interesting.”

‘pathetic liar.’ you thought

your toes pressed harder against the growing bulge in his slacks. you could feel it throbbing through the fabric. and fuck, was that a bead of sweat at his temple?

“mmm, shame,” you murmured, letting the word drag out like melted chocolate. “you always make things sound interesting. i love hearing you talk.”

jack’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. they were sharp. hungry. controlled—but barely. he took a long sip of his wine, probably to buy himself a second of composure. his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your whole body responded.

you pressed a little harder with your foot.

he shifted again. his voice was a little hoarse now. “you’re trouble.”

you grinned, chin dipping a little, lashes fluttering. “me? i’m just sitting here.”

that’s when your foot started sliding right up and down the area, your big toe pressing gently—but firmly—against the bulge straining under his slacks. the fabric was warm. tense. you could feel his pulse through it. you moved in a slow circle, teasing, pressing, backing off. teasing again. watching him grit his jaw. his hand clenched around his fork like it had personally offended him.

and then you mouthed it across the table, slow and silent:

‘hard yet?’

jack’s chest rose on a sharp inhale. his fingers flexed, eyes dropping to the table, then back up at you. “you’re gonna pay for this later.”

“You sure?” you smiled, teeth catching your bottom lip. the power you had mustered was dizzying to him.

and just as you pressed your toe up against the tip of his cock, felt him jerk slightly from the contact, the waiter appeared beside the table with a polite smile and two steaming plates.

“here we are,” he said, not noticing a damn thing placing the large array of food you both ordered.

you blinked, innocent again in an instant, drawing your foot back with slow, demure grace. you crossed your legs under the table like a saint, hands folded in your lap.

jack exhaled through his nose, knuckles white as he reached for his chopsticks. you picked up your chopsticks as well, glanced at him, and said, “oh my god, this looks amazing.”

your voice didn’t waver. but his did. and you even heard a little whimper, almost as if like he wanted to keep going. you took a bite, savoring it, eyes locked with his over the table. “better eat up,” you said sweetly.

his cock twitched again and your smirk deepened. deciding to give him a break you start small “so..you’re an actor right? ‘least that's what my dad says.” “yeah, have a few movies and shows i've done in my time”

the ride home was entertaining, jack opened up a lot more and seemed to be way more comfortable with talking to you about his own personal life. you had been nicer to him too, which he enjoyed, at first he thought he’d make a bad impression on you but it was nice seeing you sing along to the music in the car on the way home. it was almost as if what had gone on under the table never happened. by the time you made it back to the pent house its about 16:32, you knew your dad wouldn’t be home until about 22:00 so before jack sees you off you quickly turn and ask “won’t you stay with me jack?” his heart skips a beat as he hears this request “what?” he asks.

‘ugh useless’ you thought “i’m inviting you in can’t you see? unless you don’t want that then just go home” you harshly say. 

“no no it’s not that love, i just — i’m not used to this and in any case isn’t your dad home?”

“that’s none of your business” you start, “you either come home with me or just go back to that lonely bed of yours” you say with a scoff. he hesitates at first but he obliges as he follows you into the lobby up the elevator to you and your fathers shared space.

after exiting the elevator jack is enamored by the layout of the place, it was lit up by the large windows surrounding the living area. there was a beautiful chandelier hanging in the middle just above the table separating the couch from the flat screen on the wall. so man other things had caught his eye as well, the various paintings on the walls , minimalist vases holding succulents and other various flowers and deep green plants, it was a beautiful place really. “if you're done staring you can come with me” you say as you walk towards your bedroom. jack starts to sweat at the request he knew he shouldn't, he knows how this is going to end, but his body betrays him as he found himself sitting atop your soft bed whilst waiting for you to change. its decorative pillows and fluffy duvet. your room was a lot more decorated than expected, some stuffed animals were on the bed, a few posters of vogue magazines and artists posters as well as a flatscreen tv. you even had a vanity with lights and fancy wooden carved drawers, various beauty products were spread across the desk of it. it seemed that you made yourself at home during the vacation, he thought to himself. 

as he was waiting he started wandering around the space, and just as he got to your drawers you had come out:

“are you looking through my panty drawers you freak?” you sneered. he leaped at the tone of your voice “no never” he stammered out “i was really just walking about miss i would never ever do such a thing” side eyeing him you sit on the bed and ask him to join you to watch something.

“i just get so bored sometimes, my siblings are grown up, im the last born and they rarely visit.. its nice to have such a nice friend like you to play with” you say as you play with your curls. “uh huh..” he says “what eh, what did ye wanna watch? im down for ‘nything”

“i really like full house, let’s watch that m’kay? “

“alright” he says with a slight smile.

the room was dim except for the soft flicker of the tv screen—full house, of all things, droning on in the background with its saccharine, overacted charm. something about uncle jesse and a pie. you barely heard it.

because jack was here. and he was already shifting restlessly beneath you.

you sat on his lap, legs straddling his waist, your thighs warm against his jeans, your body heavy and settled, exactly where you knew he wanted you. his back was pressed to the headboard, one arm flung across a pillow, the other resting uselessly beside him because you hadn’t let him touch. not yet.

your nightgown, a lace sleeveless babydoll, but the buttons were undone halfway, teasing the swell of your breasts every time you leaned forward. you wore nothing underneath. no bra. no panties. just bare, your hot skin against his denim jeans, and the rising pressure of your wetness soaking through the crotch of said jeans.

jack’s breathing was already shallow.

“you’re not even watching,” he murmured, voice rough. his eyes flicked from your lips to your chest to the slow grind of your hips rolling against him. he was trying so fucking hard to keep it casual. he wasn’t succeeding.

“i like this episode,” you replied innocently, like you hadn’t just rocked your hips forward and rubbed your soaked pussy right over the bulge in his jeans. “danny’s trying to impress some woman at the pta or something.”

jack exhaled hard through his nose. his fingers twitched like he wanted to grab your waist and pin you down.

“you’re evil. you’ve been evil all day”

you tilted your head, biting your bottom lip like you were confused. “why? i’m just sitting here.”

he shook his head and swallowed. hard. “no, you’re grinding your wet cunt on my cock and pretending like it’s not driving me insane.”

you grinned.

“hmm,” you hummed, grinding down again, a little harder this time, dragging your slick folds along the seam of his jeans, soaking them through. “is it really that bad?”

jack’s breath caught. “you have no idea.”

“i think i do,” you purred, leaning forward until your tits brushed his chest. your lips hovered over his. “you’re throbbing. i can feel it.”

he closed his eyes, jaw tight, like he was barely hanging on. you kissed the corner of his mouth and pulled back before he could catch you, a wicked spark in your eye.

“but you don’t get to touch yet,” you whispered. “you just sit there. be good.”

“fuck,” he breathed. “y’killing me, dear.”

you sat upright again and began a slow, deliberate grind, your wetness dragging back and forth over the rough fabric, sending delicious friction straight to your clit. you gasped just a little and watched his eyes go dark.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groaned, head tipping back against the headboard. “you’re soaking my fucking jeans.”

your hips moved faster, chasing more friction, just enough to tease yourself. the sensation was maddening, perfectly not enough. you weren’t ready to let go yet. neither was he.

“tell me what you’re thinking,” you whispered.

jack’s voice was strained. “’m thinking about bending you over ‘nd fucking ye’  raw.”

you laughed, low and dirty. “so predictable.”

he snapped his gaze back to yours. “y’ the one grinding all over me and teasing like a little minx. the hell you expect?”

you leaned in again, fingers brushing the collar of his shirt, breath hot against his ear. “i expect you to beg.”

jack groaned, hips bucking beneath you. you clamped your thighs tighter and pressed him down into the mattress, keeping him pinned.

“say it,” you whispered. “say you want to touch me.”

“wanna touch you,” he growled immediately.

you raised a brow. “say you need it.”

“need it,” he hissed. “need to taste you. need to feel you cum on my face s’ badly please.”

that last word made your breath catch. you tilted your hips forward and ground down slow and deep, letting him feel just how soaked you were, just how close you were to losing it too.

“you want to taste me?” you asked.

he nodded, eyes wild. “yes. please. my dear”

you smiled, slow and satisfied, and started to shift forward. crawling up his chest.

jack’s hands shot out to grab your hips—finally. permission granted.

and then you were above him, knees planted firmly on either side of his head, pussy inches from his mouth. you were soaked, folds glistening in the dim light, clit swollen, throbbing. his eyes locked on it like a starving man.

then you lowered yourself onto his face.

the first lick was devastating—slow, long, flat-tongued, from your opening to your clit. you cried out, gripping the headboard with both hands as he moaned into you, tongue diving deep, mouth latching onto your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered.

“fuck, jack” you gasped. “just like that, yes”

he groaned again, hands gripping your ass, guiding you to grind down harder. you rolled your hips over his mouth, riding him slow and deep, your thighs shaking every time his tongue flicked your clit just right.

you looked down and saw his eyes half-lidded, completely gone, worshipping you like a goddess.

you grinned, breathless. “you love this, don’t you?”

he nodded against your pussy, mouth still full of you.

“you love when i ride your pathetic face baby?,” you panted. “love being my little toy?”

jack moaned loud into your cunt, and the vibration made you shudder. you rode faster, chasing it, chasing the edge—

and then it snapped. your orgasm slammed into you, violent and sudden. you screamed his name, grinding down hard as your thighs clenched around his head. you gushed all over his face, soaking him, squirting from the sheer force of it.

and jack, he didn’t stop. he didn't want to stop, he needed you so so badly that he lapped it up, mouth wide, tongue greedy,  like he needed it in his lungs. almost to the point of overstimulation.

you finally collapsed, panting, soaked, dragging your spent cunt off his face. he was completely  wrecked. dazed and entranced by your sudden release.

you leaned down and kissed him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth as his arms wrapped tight around your back. his cock was straining between your bodies now, leaking against his stomach.

readjusting yourself “want more?” you whispered, rubbing your wet folds against his shaft.

he whimpered. “yes, yes please”

before he knew it you quickly positioned yourself on top of his lap and  jack’s cock slid inside you inch by aching inch, and you took it slow, deliberate, like you were savoring every stretch. the thick head parted your soaked folds, gliding in with obscene ease—your body still twitching, raw and dripping from how hard you’d cum on his face.

he was big. thick and pulsing inside you, the heat of him sharp and perfect. your walls clenched down involuntarily, and jack’s head thumped against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.

“jesus fucking christ—”

you bottomed out with a low groan, sitting flush against him, your thighs shaking with the fullness, your clit grinding against the base of his cock as you settled there for a second.

he looked wrecked already. sweat at his temple. lips red from kissing, from moaning, from you. his hands gripped your hips like he didn’t trust himself not to break.

you leaned forward, hair falling around your face, and whispered, “not gonna last long, are you?”

his throat bobbed. “you’re tight, f-fuck, so warm. i’m trying—”

you licked a slow stripe up his jaw, lips brushing his ear. “i like seeing you struggle beneath me.”

then you started to move.

slow circles. gentle rolls of your hips. just enough to let him feel everything. your walls squeezing down, dragging along the length of him as you lifted and sank again. his breath hitched. his hands flexed. he was already throbbing inside you.

you straightened up, placed your palms on his chest, and began riding him properly, slow and deep, your ass slapping against his thighs, every stroke smoother and filthier than the last. wet sounds filled the room, slick and obscene, your cunt sucking him in greedily.

“look at you,” you breathed, grinding harder, faster. “fucking ruined already.”

he tried to buck up—tried to fuck into you—but you pressed him back down, clamped your thighs around his hips, kept control.

“no, no, baby. you stay right there. you cum when i say.”

he heaves pathetically “god, please”

“you gonna cum already?” you leaned forward, grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked his head back just enough to watch his eyes roll. “pathetic.”

his moan was pure surrender.

you began to ride faster, harder now, bouncing on his cock with messy, wet slaps. your tits bounced with every thrust. jack’s eyes locked onto them, wild, desperate—and then darted back to your face. he looked like he could cry from how good it felt.

your clit rubbed perfectly against his pelvis with every downward grind. you reached between your legs and rubbed tight circles, chasing that next high. your walls fluttered, clenched down, your body winding tighter and tighter.

jack’s voice was ragged. “i can’t, i’m gonna cum— fuck, please please please”

you stopped.

just froze there with him buried to the hilt, your pussy squeezing him but not moving. his hips jerked, trying to chase the motion, but you held him down with a hand on his chest.

“you don’t cum until i say,” you whispered. “or i’ll make you watch me finish myself off and leave you here dripping and untouched.”

he whimpered.

“say it.”

“i won’t cum,” he gasped. “i’ll wait, i swear, fuck! please don’t stop”

you grinned and started moving again, a steady grind now, hips rolling deep and slow, your clit grinding right against him, your breath coming in short gasps.

“god you’re so deep,” you moaned, voice cracking.

jack was panting beneath you, trembling. “please cum, cum again. please. i need it, need to feel you break on my cock”

his desperate moans and whimpers drive you to ride him harder.

the pressure snapped like a rubber band. your orgasm tore through you, sharp. electric your thighs locking around his waist as you screamed and came, pussy convulsing around his cock, soaking him all over again.

jack lost it.

“fuck, fuck, i’m gonna- fuck, i’m coming”

you clamped down tight and rode him through it, milking every spasm, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up with thick, hot cum. he came hard—long, desperate spurts, moaning your name like a prayer as he spilled deep inside you.

you collapsed forward, your bodies a tangled, soaked mess, lips crashing together in a messy, breathless kiss. tongues, teeth, moans.

you pulled back, just enough to stare him in the eyes. his lips were swollen, his eyes fucked-out.

“i feel bad for what i did earlier…you didn’t deserve that,” you whispered, hips giving one last slow roll, feeling him twitch inside you.

he groaned, too wrecked to speak. you check the time, its about 21:45, your dad won't be home for a bit “want me to make you some tea before you're on your way back home dearest?” you purr. Looking up from his disheveled state he nods and you lead him to the kitchen.

he stays only for 10 minutes more before you both exchange a kiss and he makes his way out. you make your way back to the bedroom and shower, by the time you come out your father is just entering the living room.

“hey dear!” your father starts out, how was the first day at the firm? “it was so great! i made mutuals with my co-workers” you exclaimed a bit more chipper than your usual mood. “thats great, i trust that you and jack had a civil outing today and you made him comfortable?” your father continues. nodding your head you squash your fathers concerns and gave a good report on how you had the best of times at the sushi restaurant and invited him over to make him more comfortable with you. Your father proudly gives you a hug and once pulling away he notices: “jack seems to have left his jacket over here…best to give him that as soon as possible” “of course, i’ll del with that tomorrow dad, i’m a bit tired so its best if i sleep now” you say before descending back into your room. you had felt so jittery and never in your life were you ever so excited to go to work the next day and spend the rest of your vacation with jack. just before you fall asleep you receive a few messages from jack. 22:42┃jack: hello dear, i made it back. i’ll pick you at the same time tomorrow, okay? hope i didnt get you into any trouble with ye father. 22:43┃jack: i had so much fun with you regardless. :)

22:49┃you: goodnight beloved. <3

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

tags: @jimmys-tiara

[thesacredorb]

Adding onto this as to why I don't believe that he's gone outside of headcanons

3.4 spoilers

Ahem

THAT MOTHERFUCKER, A PIECE OF CODING IN A BIG ASS COMPUTER, NOT EVEN AN ACTUALLY REAL PERSON– THE OPPOSITE OF A REAL BOY™

SCRATCHED AN AEON AND MADE THEM BLEED

AND YOU'RE GOING TO LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME HE JUST- WHAT? WILLINGLY SUBSUMED INTO IRONTOMB??????

THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO BE ON A DAMN WAR PATH MARK MY WORDS

I swear on MY MOMMA, fucking Phainon/Kahslana ain't dead, that bitch ain't gone. Fuck no, I refuse to believe that. He is going on a god damned war path

He is going to regain sentience in all of that code and he's gonna tear Irontomb apart from the inside out mark my fucking words. You are not going to look me in my face and tell me he won't, because A) I won't believe you and 2) Imma slap you in the face with a brick (lovingly) because you're lying to both me and yourself. Hoyo will genuinely never make me believe that Phainon went through ALL THAT BULLSHIT, fighting off hordes of what I think was either Antimatter Legion or black tide monsters, fight and only partially lose to Zephyro(i think), only to THROW WHAT WAS LEFT OF THEIR SWORD AT NANOOK AND SCRATCH THEIR FUCKING CHEEK

Ain't no way. Ain't no fucking way. I stand ten toes down on the fuckass hill, and I will kill and die on it if I have to

Look at him, look at this man, look at the absolutely Brutally Traumatized Little Fucker and the light that has left his eyes

His ass is not dead, I will literally bet everything on it. I'll make a bet with fucking Aventurine (ain't selling my soul to Jade thats too far) about it damn you.

Phainon is not dead. We will see him again, and I refuse to be told or think otherwise. That's all thanks for coming to my ted talk

Just need to scream into the void really quick because i finished 3.4 at like midnight (five(5) hours ago) because after processing the story im losing it internally a little, ans also because i wanna get on the hsr side of this site (I know ive seen it with my eyes before it just keeps disappearing)

So some spoilers for 3.4 if you haven't played or seen anyone play it yet

Oh Kahslana, my Kahslana ❤️‍🩹

You poor, agonizingly sweet soul you, I wish only sweet dreams and peaceful rest for you. Fuck the canon of him being subsumed into Irontomb, fuck the fact that we won't know the end to the grand story of Amphoreus for at least 3 more updates, fuck it all, i am subscribing to the headcanon that he has gone dormant in the back of Phainon's mind.

I am choosing to believe that he doesn't become part of the machine that is trying to destroy the Aeon that made it tossed it aside, Kahslana is resting. He is in the back of Phainon's mind, finally at peace, taking the break he deserves, finally being able to step away from the chaos of it all and being allowed time to just- temporarily stop existing. He isn't gone, he's taking a break. He's taking a break from the weight the 33 million cycles undoubtedly takes a toll on him, so he doesn't have to feel his body deteriorating, cracking and becoming fragmented; a shell of who and what he once was.

Hes taking a break from the sweltering, scorching heat, the heat the burns him from the inside out, that roats his body and torches his soul. The heat that makes his body temperature so unbearable that even his tears turn to mist before they even have a chance to trail down from his eyes. The millions of coreflames have no effect on him here, they do not turn his body into kindling that breaks him down from the inside out.

Kahslana is resting, mind and body, so he doesn’t have to suffer all the memories.

So he doesn’t have to constantly all the times he had to kills his friends, the people he loves and cares for so deeply and wholly that he carries their wishes with him to every new cycle in a desperate attempt to change something; to do something different, to search endlessly for another outcome. Another outcome that doesnt involve all his friends needing to die as sacrifices for an Aeon that wishes to destroy everything; to a god they dont even know exists. He refuses so much for all that he loves and care about to be a sacrifice that will fuel the fires of Destruction to birth a new Lord Ravager that Nanook will use in THEIR army to bring the Universe to its knees; he doesn't want them to be mere pawns to a greater scheme that none of them have a say in that kills them over and over himself. Over 33,550,336 cycles of hundreds of thousands of years, he has to bring his blade down on every friend he's held dear to him, had to plunge his sword into the chest of everyone in Aedes Elysiae himself just to push his past self to the brink over and over a d over and over.

He doesn’t have to constantly be haunted by the memories of taking dawnbreaker and using it to cut down Mydei, his equal in strength, the comrade and fought for ten days and nights and eventually became close with. He doesnt have to think about the times he's had to hurt Castorice, poor sweet and gentle Castorice, to take the coreflame of the Hand of Shadow from her. He doesn't need to dwell on the memories of the one cycle where Hyacine made him pause, if only for a moment with her words, before he used the ceremonial blade given to him hy Cyrene to forcefully remove the coreflame of the Sky Titan from her. All the times he most likely had to take and take and take from all the people that he knew; Aglaea, Tribios, Cipher and Professor Anaxa, every one of them being people he knew cared for, and had to kill to protect them from a fate worse than anything he can endure.

Kahslana doesn't have to remember or worry about carrying the fates and wishes of all whom he holds dear– the fate of everyone on Amphoreus; he doesn't need to. Not anymore. His new friend, someone from beyond the sky, from far away from the lands that have trapped him for so long. He has entrusted his duty to someone he trusts can handle the weight of the world far better than he ever could; some who has finally, finally brought hope and change to the cycles of anguish he's endured.

So even with his mind and body and sould weighed down by the near futility of it all, the weight of the world that drove him mad countless times, he is allowed to rest and he passes the torch to his partner. To the Trailblazer from beyond the sky, the hero he always envisioned as a child; to the person who will carry all of their fates into Era Nova, into the bright and brilliant new Dawn promised in the prophecy.

Kahslana is allowed repose. He can finally float in a boundless void of idleness and inactivity, with no worry about the future of his planet and his people, no crushing weight of the world and their wishes to carry upon his shoulders, and no death that he feels he must bring upon the ones he loves. He has slipped into a quiet, painless, and peaceful dormancy that will last for as long as world wishes for him to.

And when the times comes for the true Era Nova, when the new Deliverer ushers in the dawn of a new age free of cycles and loops and the gaze of an Aeon that wishes to wage war on the Universe for existing, he will be able to wake and he will be able to watch. Kahslana will be able to see the fruits of his labor, will finally be able to see that all of his millions of years of cycles he's had to witness will not have been in vain; Kahslana will be able to watch the mighty Trailblazer forge a new path, and being for a brilliant and blazing sunrise where the west winds end. And after seeing the culmination of his efforts, Kahslana can rest permanently and peacefully if he so chooses.

Because that's what he deserves. He didn't tread through 33 million cycles for nothing, after all.

[light-wrath-paradise]

I love characters who are manipulative in one way or another but rarely or never lie.

Especially scrumptious when there IS a clear reason for them choosing this tactic.

In other words shout out to Solas Dragon Age and Henry Miller DSAF specifically. Trying to think of more hoes like that but the thing is that I mostly remember the ones I've analysed.

Or like I can think of two more characters but for them I believe it's just circumstantial? Like one of them seems to simply...not consider lying and he doesn't need to because 90 % of the time he frames what he's saying as a hypothetical. And now that I think about it he does lie sometimes. I think he just genuinely doesn't consider it as his go-to tactic, I don't think he avoids it on purpose. And the other guy lies like...twice and also doesn't seem directly opposed to it, it's just that most of the time it was enough for him not to tell the whole truth. And that's easier than making up a lie. I don't think he has a special reason either.

But yeah anyway shout out to characters who avoid lying on purpose. Show me more of these hoes immediately.

[capricornlevi]

nanami x reader - w.c 3k, marraige of convenience, mentions of societal pressure but everything is consensual!, nsfw, mdni!

without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.

the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.

you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.

you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.

but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.

from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.

and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.

the ceremony is as bare-bones as your reputation will allow. the guest list doesn't hit the triple digits, a huge departure from society norms, but representatives from the major houses sit in floral-clad wooden chairs to watch you repeat the words that the officiant speaks in your direction.

nanami takes your hands in his. they're warm, which is nice. this dress isn't designed for November weather, but it's an heirloom -- and truthfully, you're glad to be wearing it. you'd never given much thought to a wedding, but it makes your mother and grandmother very happy.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to discover how handsome nanami is. you were previously shown a few polaroids of him -- staff pictures, mostly, but some with the rest of his family -- and had known he wasn't bad-looking, but the pictures weren't clear enough to give you a proper understanding of his looks.

his blond hair is styled neatly, not a hair out of place. he has nice features, strong jawline and cheekbones, and soft eyes, a good combination. you know his gaze can be piercing when he wants it to be, but now, he looks at you gently.

you know you made the right decision.

more vows, a kiss, and you're married.

___

the reception goes mercifully smoothly. the mix of guests -- powerful sorcerer family heads, rich businesspeople, and just a few of your personal friends -- didn't appear to gel too well on paper, but they mostly stick to their own factions. you greet them all until your vocal cords grow tired.

a meal is served on plates so ornate it makes you feel awkward eating off them. you nurse a glass of wine for most of the evening and nanami does the same, politely waving off the servers who approach to refill his glass.

a promising sign that he doesn't feel the need to drown his sorrows. this is a marriage of convenience, yes, but you'd like to be able to get along reasonably well with your spouse.

and, to his credit, he's been making light conversation with you all evening. he doesn't dip into deep or uncomfortable topics like your marriage or future plans, figuring that's best saved for later, but he asks you questions about yourself. by the end of the evening, you feel safe enough to allude to your desire for a future somewhat outside society's norms -- "I've always wanted to travel, honestly. maybe ... spend a few years abroad" -- and, to your pleasant surprise, he doesn't rebuff them. if anything, he seems somewhat pleased.

you have another glass of wine and before you know it, it's the early hours of the morning. you're nowhere near tipsy but feel ready for bed, ready to wipe off this makeup and slip into something more comfortable; thankfully, guests have started to slip out one by one, with only immediate family remaining.

your unpleasant and friendless older cousin makes a joke about you needing to say your goodbyes to 'go please your husband', and nanami's face sours for the first time all evening. your cousin notices and sheepishly takes a drink, mumbling something about it being his time to leave too.

with some final hugs to your respective families, it's time to leave with ...

... with your husband.

in his last letter before the wedding, nanami agreed that your city-centre apartment would be the best place to live in the first few weeks of your marriage, until you find somewhere more permanent that suits you both, and so that's where you go.

you show him around each room, including some storage space where his luggage had been delivered this morning. interspersed with some more small talk, you explain that although it's small, it's well placed for both of you to get to work. he smiles and nods, thanking you with a warmth that doesn't feel forced.

you offer him some tea or whiskey; he says he's fine.

you yawn. he loosens his tie, clearly exhausted himself.

the last room you show him is your bedroom, and it becomes harder and harder not to address the elephant in the room. there's very clearly no second bed, no room for him to stay that wouldn't necessitate a lot of closeness between the two of you.

the silence hangs heavy and loaded, both of you waiting for the other to speak.

well. this is one issue you hadn't covered before the ceremony.

you have no issue with a sexual relationship -- in fact, you're somewhat looking forward to it, having spent the evening admiring the way nanami's shirt hugs his strong arms and chest. but you're not sure if tonight, the first night you've ever met, is the best night to start.

sure, the concept of the wedding night speaks for itself, but it's not as black-and-white in your situation. he might want to spend some time settling in, first. he might not even be that interested in you.

"want me to take the couch?" he asks quietly, with no hint of resentment or offence in his voice. he makes the offer with a sincerity you haven't heard from a man in a long time.

you don't break your silence, but not because you're uncomfortable or anything of the sort -- you're just assessing your options.

"there's nothing i expect from you, just so you know," he continues, and you turn your head to face him, seeing his eyes scan your face for any sign of unease. "the last thing i want is for you to do ... this ... out of obligation or pressure. we have a lifetime to get to know each other, to reach that point -- i want you to be comfortable around me."

your upbringing has made you a sceptic, a pessimist at times, but for some reason, you believe him. maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the fact that he's taken your hand in his own, interlocking your fingers, but there's something about him that sets him aside from normal sorcerers.

he seems real. he seems as though, powers and fortunes and family names aside, he has some substance about him.

"do you want to?" you ask then, voice almost inaudible quiet from a day spent conversing with guests at your wedding.

he doesn't hear you, so he dips his head in your direction; you repeat yourself and wait, hoping you hadn't pressed the issue.

his composure doesn't crack, but something flashes in his eyes as he processes your question. he has such control over the movements of his features, over every expression in his body, except for his eyes, you think.

maybe you just happen to be good at reading him.

he mulls it over for a second, his grip on your hand never slacking.

"i want to," he finally admits. "i've wanted to for a while, truthfully. I've spent a lot of late nights picturing how it would feel to be inside you, to hear what my name sounds like when you say it. but i only want that if you want it too."

you smile without meaning to. "you imagined that from just reading a few letters?"

"yes, and it's a testament to my trust in my new wife that I'm telling you that," he replies, still polite but tinged with amusement.

it feels strange standing at your bedroom doorway, hand in hand with this almost-stranger, imagining what it would be like to indulge in these thoughts you've both been having, spending your first night together tangled up in the sheets and allowing some of the indulgence you've long denied yourself.

duty gets tiring. for a long time, you've been unsure what it feels like to genuinely want something.

now, you're pretty sure it feels something like this. it's organic and unforced, a natural desire that sends heat curling in the pit of your stomach.

wordlessly, you guide nanami into your room, closing the door behind you. there's a hint of a smile on his lips as you ask him for help to untie your wedding dress, the intricate pattern of buttons trailing up your spine proving too technical for your own hands. he's methodical in his work, careful to not damage the delicate clasps.

soon your dress is loose around your hips, your chest covered by the thin slip you wore underneath. you set the garment carefully aside before returning the favour and starting to undo nanami's shirt, avoiding eye contact as your hands expose more and more of his bare chest.

you want to do this, you know that for sure, but that doesn't mean you won't feel a bit of awkwardness at the start. you're not well practiced, having had too busy a life for romantic relationships until now. you hope that instinct will kick in sooner than later, but you've no doubt nanami will help you along the way.

when you finally build up the nerve to glance up at him as he shrugs off the shirt, he's looking at you as though you're the only person he ever wants touching him.

you hear the soft clink of metal and realise he's undoing his belt.

"are you sure?" he asks one more time.

that one question, and the earnestness with which he speaks, erases the last shred of doubt you had. you place your trust in him for the second time today.

you nod and reach across to his belt in the same breath, helping him pull it free from the loops to be tossed by the armchair near your desk.

you move as though controlled by something other than yourself, the decisions coming so naturally it feels as though you've been imagining it for weeks as well.

and maybe you have, you think to yourself, as you confidently guide him back slowly until he's sitting down on the plush armchair, his suit pants still on as you crawl onto his lap, pressing your chest against his. the thin fabric of your slip means you can feel the heat of his body against your skin, nipples hardening as they graze against his muscles.

you've just about balanced yourself, carefully perched on his lap when you feel his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that has you grinding against his thighs before you can even catch your breath.

you've never been kissed like this. the few kisses you've had before have been with partners who see you as a means to an end, be it for your family name, your reputation, or just for sex. you've never been kissed by someone who seems to get more from your pleasure than from his own.

you now know he meant it when he said he's been picturing this.

you kiss him for as long as you can, and you're not sure if it's for seconds, minutes, hours. you kiss him until there's a heat burning between your thighs you can no longer stand, that you need to have satiated by the visible, prominent bulge in the front of his suit pants.

when you finally break away, lips numb and kiss-slick, nanami's hair is touselled - you don't remember running your hands through them, but you must have at some point - and he reaches up to run his fingers under the straps of your slip, asking with his eyes if he can guide them off your shoulders.

you nod, and your chest is exposed to the cool night air for a split second before nanami's mouth is on one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive skin and making you cry out.

one of the words you moan must be his name, because you feel him smile as he turns his attention towards the other nipple, hands now at the small of your back to keep you close to him.

you can't take it much longer. you need to be touched so badly, you didn't even think you were capable of wanting it this much -- and you only want him to do it, now and maybe forever.

maybe he can read your mind or maybe you babbled out the request, but nanami finally takes pity on you, giving your nipple one final lick before resting his shoulders back against the cushion of the armrest and sliding his hands up your thighs, hooking your underwear with his fingers -- you lift your hips up to let him slip them off.

his composure slips further when he finally touches you between your legs, feeling how wet you've gotten for him, seeing how you react when he slips his index finger inside.

your head falls back and you hold a breath, focusing all of your attention on the sensation of him inside you, on the way he curls the digit ever-so-slightly before pulling it out and fucking you with two this time, almost -- almost -- tipping you over the edge.

"such a pretty wife," he mumbles almost under his breath, voice and gaze reverent as he watches you rock yourself against his hand. "my beautiful, perfect wife, aren't you?"

you want to answer him but can't, lungs feeling near-empty as you fumble with the buttons of his pants.

"i will never be able to think of anything else but you, i think," he muses, half-smiling. "you in my lap ... you making those pretty little noises ... i might be a ruined man, you know. and I'm glad of it."

he only stops speaking when you finally get your hand on his clothed cock, his breath catching in his throat as you trace it with your fingers.

you want tonight, the first of many times together, to start with you cumming on your husband's cock.

nanami just watches as you finally pull him out of his underwear, his length thick and hard in your hand as you give it a few messy strokes. it's all the both of you can manage before you need to have it inside you -- you shift your hips to sit on it, nanami's eyes fixed on the site of the head slipping inside.

it's a stretch, as you expected, but one you've been craving since you closed the bedroom door. you take him inch by inch, lowering yourself down as his breath quickens, clearly battling the urge to thrust up inside you.

but he's careful with you, and doesn't want to hurt you. his wife.

you lift yourself up too much and his cock slips out, slapping aginst his stomach and you nearly cry at the sudden emptiness, eager and clumsy as you guide him back inside you.

he kisses you when you sink down next, tongue massaging your own until the feeling of almost-too-full turns to a perfect, satisfying heat in your core.

eventually you're ready to quicken the pace, bouncing on his cock before long, your mind working too fast for you to keep up as you see nanami's cheekbones flush pink, his pupils dark as you ride him until your thighs ache.

you power through the sensation, nanami helping you along by meeting your hips with his, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your puffy clit. he calls you perfect and other beautiful words; you don't say anything besides more, more and, soon after, nearly there, nearly there, please, please, I'm so close --

your entire body lights up with the most wonderful sensation, hitting you like a wave and sweeping you away in its warm glow, with nanami's hands now on your hips, guiding your movements in exactly the way you need it -- not too hard, not too slow, not too fast.

you're still pulsing around him when you feel his body stiffen, his strong thighs tensing as he groans through gritted teeth. he pulls you in for a crushing kiss as he finishes, filling you up and thrusting as deep as he can until oversensitivity takes over.

the afterglow has you a contented and exhausted mess, muscles aching but satisfied in a way you'll spend forever seeking.

reluctantly, you slip off his cock to retake your place on his lap, marvelling at how undone you both have become, a far cry from your perfect wedding appearance.

you look perfect to him, though, you know as much from the kiss he presses to your sweaty forehead and the way his arm wraps around your shoulders.

"we didn't even make it to the bed," you observe, eyebrows raising as you finally return to your own body. "i ... wasn't expecting that."

"we have a lifetime to spend in bed," he replies, a smile in his voice.

and once again, for reasons you still don't understand, you believe him.

[bachissidehoe]

in which you're Reo's princess, and Nagi's his treasure. (w.c. 1049)

At first, you found it strange the way Nagi Seishiro would so casually throw his arm around your shoulder and hold you close to his chest. You were Reo’s girlfriend, after all. The girlfriend of his best friend.

“What are you playing?”

He sighed. “It would be a hassle to explain. You can watch though.”

And you did. You sat next to him on the couch, forcing your gaze past his toned muscles and shaggy, tangled hair to watch his little mobile game.

“Come here. It’s hard to play when you’re leaning on my arm.”

And he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side so he could access his screen better. Apparently, this position made him more mobile.

You were flushed. You didn’t think something like this would be allowed. You were nestled into the gorgeous, soft body of your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Oh cute! My princess and my treasure.”

That’s all Reo had said when he saw you. It surprised you, to say the least.

But it’s not like you were complaining. Where lying on Reo’s chest was warm, Nagi’s was cool. Where Reo was obvious with his praise, Nagi was nonchalant. You found yourself wanting the affection of both of them, in a weird way.

And it started to be less surprising when Nagi asked to hold you. In fact, you started to hope he would.

“Your thighs are soft, like pillows. I need a nap.”

And Nagi collapsed, right there on your thighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. So calm.

“Aren’t they?” Reo agreed from the opposite couch, encouraging the physicality.

What the two didn’t notice was how you shifted in your seat, affected by the warm breaths that dusted your inner thighs. It wouldn’t be comfortable for the snowy haired boy to sleep in a puddle, so you held on for dear life, your hands clenched around the fabric of the couch rather than tangled in his messy hair.

You hadn’t realized the effect Nagi Seishiro really had on you. How his subtle, casual affection had trained you to become a secret mess for him. For your boyfriend’s best friend.

But Reo- your smart, charismatic, beautiful boyfriend- he had realized. In fact, he’d been encouraging this for a reason.

“You’re bothered, aren’t you princess?”

For a moment you thought you may be in trouble. It’s wrong to get turned on by your boyfriend’s best friend. But the look on Reo’s face, the devious smirk, said otherwise.

So you nodded.

“How cute.” He moved to hover over you, Nagi still restful on your thighs. “My princess and my treasure get along so well.”

It became pretty obvious what your boyfriend wanted after that. You just didn't realize how you didn't notice it before. The way he looked at Nagi. The way he encouraged you two. He wanted Nagi just as badly as you did.

The burning growing between your thighs wasn't enough for just Reo to satisfy anymore. And he knew that.

"Princess, hm? That what you want me to call her too, Reo?" Nagi mumbled, his groggy eyes opening just enough to look up at your flushed face.

"You should." Reo pulled Nagi upward by his shirt, removing him from the comfortable spot he created on your thighs.

Nagi complained the whole way up, of course, he was never one to enjoy being forced out of a cozy position.

"You should also let her ride you." Reo smirked, bringing Nagi's face close to his, nearly touching his lips.

You gulped.

But Nagi Seishiro was less than nervous, the nonchalant type of person he was. He only glanced back at you, not struggling at all under your boyfriend's tight hold on his shirt.

"Yeah fine." Nagi agreed.

It was hard for you to tell whether Nagi really wanted to fuck you, whether he was interested in you at all or if he wanted to shut Reo up. But as it turned out, Nagi Seishiro was stubborn and ruthless. He wanted you just as badly, his cock constantly straining against his shorts whenever you were close to him, wanting any excuse to stuff his face into your pretty thighs. But he'd never admit it.

Not until you were bouncing on his thick cock, mouth hung open and hands relentlessly tugging on his hair. Right there on that couch. With your wet cunt soaking him, your movements squeezing juices into a messy coating for Nagi's bare thighs.

That's when Nagi Seishiro decided to be honest. "Fuck, I needed you. Fuck~ yes I need~ ah-"

And Reo couldn't have been happier about the beautiful scene he created. "You don't mind, hm? Can't expect me to just watch." He lined up behind you, letting his familiar, flushed tip plunge into the depths of your unused hole, forcing you to lean forward onto Nagi's chest.

"I'll get ya both off. Fuck~" Reo spat, his thrusts creating the friction both you and Nagi so desperately craved, your heavy breaths mixing into each other in the small space between you.

And you kissed him, because you couldn't help it. Your sloppy, drooly lips pressed to Nagi's in a desperate display of hunger.

As it turned out, Reo had been thinking about this for a long time. Longer than you had. Longer than the stubborn Nagi Seishiro had.

He rocked his hips in perfect rhythm, your cunt sliding and squeezing around Nagi's perfect cock while your ass was lubed and stuffed by your pretty boyfriend.

Reo was right about getting you both off, too. It took him practically no time, with your clit rubbing against Nagi's skin and the friction forcing Nagi's tip into your g-spot over and over again, it wasn't difficult. But that didn't matter to Reo, he never specified how many times he expected to get you two off. And it became clear very quickly that once wasn't enough for him.

He'd been holding back his desires for too long, he deserved to see you shaking, tears streaming down your face, cum dripping from all your holes. He deserved to see Nagi fucked out, hair sticking to his forehead, arms wrapped around you and lips attached to your bruised neck.

Your boyfriend deserved that much. After how long you made him wait to fuck his princess and his treasure.

[livvivviss]

lazy people probably won't want to read it 🙄🙄 HAHSHDA

How to shift: EMBODY YOUR DR SELF!! ☀️

Fuck the five senses

Most of us always focus on the process of shifting, the symptoms, the 5 senses, overanalyze our process and being very critical of ourselves, we try to analyze why we don't shift, giving ourselves excuses and explanations Saying "I didn't do enough", "I should have tried harder" I wish you guys to STOP THAT.

Actually, none of the above matters. The reason you think the methods, meditation, etc matters it's because of your assumptions and beliefs because you didn't get there and you think "you're doing something wrong" and you ARE NOT, leave that mentality behind and stop seeing shifting as a task or obligation, as something with steps that must be followed to the letter.

Stop and get back to BASICS, When you are trying to get to your DR, stop thinking and focus on "I have to get there" just think that YOU ARE THERE, think ABOUT YOU, about your dr self, who are you in your dr? This is why it is very important that you like your dr's self, and not just an "improved 2.0 me, now with ultra-powered engines" because it just makes you feel uncomfortable, and you need to feel comfortable with being your dr self, You must like being yourself, you must know yourself, dive into your brain and connect with your dr self and with who you're there.

And when you connect with who you are there, forget about everything else, forget how many breaths you have to take, what number you are on, or if you visualize enough, just connect with you, with who you are. By connecting with your 5 senses and with the environment, you are not traveling, I mean this is okay but when you're trying to shift, the shift it's in the mindset, not in the around, it happens in your subconscious, it happens when you become that person, you are becoming your dr self not your environment, WHO ARE YOU? Connect with that person. Start with "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?" "What is my name?" Until it becomes a natural flow, connect with your thoughts until it becomes a natural flow. You did it, you've shifted, when you are fully connected to your dr self and you no longer need to think like your dr self thinks, you are there, and nothing else matters, fuck if "your environment tells you otherwise", It doesn't matter what you see, hear or feel anymore, you are in your dr and you are your dr's person. You know that you're there because of your mindset, enjoy that because that is shifting, that is change, YOU HAVE TO CHANGE, this is manifesting, and manifestation happens instantly when you change your mindset.

The process of shifting doesn't have to take a long time, it doesn't have to take years, the only reason it takes you so long is because you see it as homework. Get out of that mindset, connect with yourself, change your mindset, delate everything else, stop making everything so difficult. "I didn't shift last night because-" STOP, there's no reason you haven't shifted. We shift in every decision we make, when you go to bed YOU HAVE ALREADY SHIFTED, but you are not going to accept it and you MUST accept it.

Why you should embody your dr self (good for lazy shifters):

You should try to connect with your dr self instead of using the five senses or connecting with your dr it's because:

1. It's a bit backwards to try to connect with your surroundings instead of yourself. As I said before, you are not shifting to be your environment, you are shifting to be you, to be your dr self. (Although I'm not saying that using all 5 senses is a bad thing, but you shouldn't focus only on that)

2. Embodying your dr self bypasses all the extra shit about you just lying in your bed trying to shift. The moment you connect with your dr's self, you have already shifted, because if you were not in your dr you would not be able to access the thoughts of your dr self. And when you are focused on this, you are no longer focused on the symptoms and that is the best thing that can happen to you because YOU SHOULDN'T FOCUS ON THE SYMPTOMS because it's not a physical process, physical change comes after the change of mentality. Connecting with your dr self's thoughts is much better than memorizing affirmations and meditating, it's more natural, you enjoy it more and it's less tiring.

3. In the case that your physical environment does not end up changing, you end up connecting with your dr self (THAT IS SO IMPORTANT) you alredy had the mindset shift. And many people when they start doing all this, they start having dreams about themselves being their dr self, and having experiences in their dreams being their dr self, and that is SO GOOD (it's literally happening to me) Taking this post into account, I assure you that YOU WILL SEE CHANGES YES OR YES this is a connecting point.

• Please make this post viral, shifters need to know this 🙏🙏

This was a summary of @shaysplanett's 7 and 10 minute videos. We love her (she was really helpful to me)

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (04)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content suggestive !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 03 ¡ 04 ¡ 05

yourusername

liked by rafecameron, sarahcameron, ryanontop and 1,640 others

yourusername its our world and youre living in it

view all comments

sarahcameron i start ovulating everytime i see you ↳ yourusername i cant believe that we're dating happy 10 yrs gf 😊 ↳ johnroutledge Dating?  ↳ yourusername do you want an autograph or something why are you always all up in my comments 

rafecameron Cool post ↳ yourusername thanks rafe ↳ rafecameron You're welcome Bug ↳ yourusername i have a name stop calling me that >:(   ↳ rafecameron Why it's cute ↳ yourusername are you flirting with me ↳ rafecameron And if I said yeah then what? ↳ yourusername Then you need to shut up  ↳ rafecameron 👍🏼👍🏼 Okay

kelcee3e Yeahh dump 🔥🔥 ↳ yourusername HI KELCE  ↳ kelcee3e Yooo wsg 🫡 ↳ rafecameron You know him? ↳ yourusername hes my bitch ↳ sarahcameron how many bitches you got 

ryanontop this ruined my day ↳ yourusername nothing was going good anyway ↳ ryanontop go fys

jjmaybanks Why are you arching your back over that railing ↳ yourusername hop off my dick ↳ jjmaybanks Man I was just asking :(

kiecarrera cuties!!! miss you guys 🥹 ↳ yourusername KIE!! i miss you too angel ↳ sarahcameron i wish you were here :’((

cleoanderson best girls ↳ yourusername you want me to kiss you sooo bad… ↳ sarahcameron im touching you ↳ cleoanderson Oh

user1 whys rafe all up in her comments ↳ yourusername he's a fan ↳ rafecameron That’s not true?

user2 THE PIC OF U N SARAH!! So adorable 🥹 ↳ ryanontop Creds to me ↳ rafecameron I took it but okay bozo ↳ yourusername mama took it??? why are you both lying 

johnroutledge My gf is so cute ↳ yourusername mine* you mean? ↳ johnroutledge No back off ↳ sarahcameron i love when you guys fight over me 😇 

popeheyward Someone’s having fun ↳ yourusername someones jealous 😹😹 enjoy tuna szn ↳ cleoanderson LMAO leave him alone!!!! 

Rafe doesn’t know what he did wrong. 

One moment, you were laughing and having a blast together, then the next, you were ignoring him, feighing oblivion to the puzzled expression that spread across his face. He played it off, ignoring the emotions washing over him everytime you fixed your attention on him, suddenly feeling his chest swell with pride as you directly flashed him a smile. 

Then again, you were his best friend’s little sister, he shouldn’t be bothered by such things, after all, you had control over your own life. But he couldn’t help it, not with your change of tone over the past few weeks. 

The mixed signals you sent him were killing him alive, and you didn’t even know it. At one point, he’d excuse himself earlier than everyone else, needing a moment to think his feelings through, contemplate over the sudden rush of frustration every time you’d refer to him as ‘bro’, or introduced him as your brother to other people. 

He was sure that you, maybe, in the slightest bit, had interest in him, so what changed? What made you switch up in an instant, casually referring to him as your own brother when the dms you exchanged said otherwise. 

It was cool, though, it’s not like you were being serious, merely messing around to entertain your friends. Besides, it was casual, you were both cool, that was all that mattered, right?

Rafe was sprawled on the couch located in your room, mindlessly scrolling through his phone while Ryan and Sarah argued from beside him, with you falling into a fit of giggles everytime Sarah roasted your brother. 

The boy strived to remain calm, brushing off the glances he kept stealing in your direction, in an attempt to capture the sliver of skin peaking through everytime you lifted your arms. Hell, he wasn’t even ashamed, brazenly undressing you with his eyes, making you feel shy under his gaze, as it burned holes through your flesh.

“When will you be done?” Sarah suddenly started, dodging the pillow Ryan tossed in her direction. “Can you tell him to stop?!” 

“Stop bothering her, Ryan.” You glimpsed over your shoulder, chuckling when Ryan rolled his eyes, creating a barrier with the pillow separating them. “I’m almost done, I jus’ need to touch up my makeup, and get dressed.”

“Okay, I’ll get ready, then.” Sarah shot back, flashing you a smile, though you were facing the other way. “Have fun with these two!” 

“Don’t leave me with them!” You whined in protest, Sarah’s footsteps echoing through the distance. 

“Fuck you.” Ryan rolled his eyes, rising from his seat. “I need to get the car started, don’t take too long to get ready, it won’t change much.” 

You scoffed at his snarky comment, dismissing the boy with your arm, letting tension seep through now that you were alone with Rafe, who was mere inches away from you. The latter maintained the same position, manspreading while he relaxed against the sofa, too accompanied by his phone to pay attention to you, or the fact that the others were gone. 

However, you were well aware that wasn’t the case, not with the gazes he sneaked in your direction, lingering everytime your skin was exposed to the air. And if you did that on purpose, not a single person needed to know, not Rafe, that’s for sure. 

A smile tugged at your lips, finishing up your makeup with a few touches before you were ready to go. Mind you, Rafe was still there, and not only was he staring, but he fully put his phone by now, entirely directing his attention to you. 

Taking advantage of the situation, you pulled your shirt over your head, the gesture causing Rafe to halt in his spot, not expecting you to do such thing. His eyes instantly shifted down your back, throat running dry when you reached to unclip your bra, letting it fall loose around your arms. 

Rafe’s fingers clutched around his phone, nearly breaking it with how tight his hold was. He couldn’t comprehend it, the sight of you half naked, though he could only see your bare back, it still drove him crazy, well aware that you were doing it on purpose; for a mere reaction out of him. 

A knowing grin made its way across your lips, proud of the said reaction you received from the latter, now sat on your couch with his mouth desperately parting in a sigh, hinting the temptation seizing control of his body. 

With a swift movement, you grabbed your swimsuit from the counter, sliding it on with ease, holding onto the two strings you wrap around the neck. Now, you could easily do it yourself, but what was the fun in that? 

You wanted Rafe to suffer, regret each word he muttered regarding his feelings for you, even if it was for a brief moment. You’ve been sending the boy signals for the past few weeks, urging him to speak, break out of the shell he created around himself, but nothing was enough, though you did everything in your watch to prove him wrong. 

That was until today, of course. Your head shot in Rafe’s direction, flashing him an innocent smile as you held the spaghetti strings in your hands, feigning ignorance to the disbelief spread on his face. 

“Do you mind helping me?” You started, cocking your head to the side. “I can’t tie it properly.” 

“Hmm?” Rafe choked out, shuffling around as he adjusted his pants, standing up from the position he was in. “Sure, uh, what do you need me to do?” 

“You could just, you know,” your eyes flickered to Rafe, as his figure filled your sight, now hovering behind you. You offered him the strings in your hold, with the latter hesitating to reach out, contemplating whether this was a good idea. “You’ve done this before, right?” 

“Not really,” he admitted, focusing his attention on the back of your head, as it filled the majority of his view. His hand hastily landed around your hair, faltering as he collected it in a fist, leisurely tucking it to your side. “I don’t go around tying girls’ bikini tops.” 

“Is that so?” You mused, admiring as Rafe tied the knot into a bow, making sure it was firm around your neck. “Not your first time, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Why’s that relevant right now?” He whispered, words like music to your ears. His gaze locked with yours through the reflection of the mirror, causing your breath to hitch, immediately pausing in your track. 

His breath fanned over your exposed back, the fraction causing shivers to run down your spine, Rafe too close for comfort. His hand burned where it laid, the tips of his fingers like feathers to your skin, tickling you as they deliberately trailed down your back, halting just above the string connected to your top. 

Rafe seeked your gaze through the reflection of the mirror, searching for any sort of discomfort, continuing as he pleased when you leaned into the touch, silently consenting to the touch. Rafe saw his chance, and took it, his chest pressing to your back when his hand slid down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the flesh with the tip of his fingers, almost as if he’d hurt you if he applied any pressure. 

“You could’ve easily done that by yourself.” Rafe’s voice tumbled into a whisper, tone dripping with desire, one he wasn’t aware he had within him. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You innocently shot back, satisfied with the squeeze Rafe gave to your hip in return. 

His lips ghosted over your ear, a ragged breath escaping his throat as he hushed out your name. It was subtle, and if he wasn’t so close, you would’ve totally missed it. However, you heard it, the way he said it doing things to you. 

“I’m surprised you know my name.” You replied, sarcasm visible through your tone. 

Rafe remained silent at your statement, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he took a whiff of your scent, your aroma intoxicating his senses. He doesn’t know what overcame him at the moment, his hands moving faster than his brain when his fingers pressed down to your side, the fraction earning an inaudible gasp out of you. 

A familiar voice echoed through your ears, causing both, you and Rafe to freeze, instantly scrambling to untangle yourself from his hold when Ryan’s shouts erupted through the walls, announcing that he’ll be waiting downstairs. 

You cleared your throat, gaze travelling to the ground as you hid the smile forming on your lips, ignoring the way your pulse quickened from Rafe’s touch. The latter hovered from behind you, debating what his next move should be, his arms awkwardly hanging to his side. 

“I need to change out of my pants,” you exclaimed, cutting through the silence, your sentence earning Rafe’s attention. “Are you gonna keep staring?” 

“What?” He choked out through a breath, lips slightly parting. 

“I’m asking if you could leave,” you further explained, chuckling at the way his cheeks flushed, tinted with faint redness. “Unless you want to stay–”

“I’ll leave.” He hurried to respond, “You continue getting ready, I’ll buy you some time.” 

An appreciative smile tugged at the corner of your lips, observing as Rafe took off, leaving you a flustered mess while you contemplated over what just happened. 

Was it not a dream? Because, no way in hell did that happen, with Rafe; of all people. 

Quickly changing out of your bottoms, you threw on a shirt over your top, heading downstairs. You perked up at the sight of your best friend, accepting the hug she offered once you were in her presence.

Your families decided on eating out with, and in their words, the kids, suggesting they go to a fancy diner to blow off some steam, having been drained with work for the past few days. While staying in bed was tempting, you couldn’t deny your parents, kindly begging you to tag along. 

It was a nice little catch up with the elders, they informed you of all the business they’ve been discussing as of late, which in your opinion, was boring, merely smiling and nodding to everything they said. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave you the whole night, taking the seat across from you, making it impossibly hard to avoid him. For a moment, you started regretting your choices, catching on the awkwardness seeping through the air, the atmosphere heavy with tension. 

The boy kept to himself for most of the time, his responses short every time Ryan would speak, interrupting the thoughts clouding his head. It was extremely difficult to brush off what went down between you two, the said moment switching a button inside him. 

He was aware of your beauty, finding you alluring from the moment that you dmed him, but right now, it was different. He admired you with such endearment, gaze flickering to your glossy lips, too busy chatting with Sarah to direct your attention to him. 

He shook off his thoughts, peeling his eyes off of you as guilt settled in his chest. He can’t let anything happen between you two, after all, he did promise Ryan that nothing would bloom out of this, and while a hint of disappointment filled his insides when Ryan drew a line, he did everything in his will not to question it. 

The ride back filled with chaos, you and Sarah claiming aux the moment you stepped in the car. Your parents snickered as you two sang along to the lyrics, creating your own karaoke throughout the drive back. 

“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Sarah questioned once each of you took a corner on the couch. 

“Sure.” Ryan rose from his seat, surprisingly excited. “What should we watch?” 

“I’ll pass,” you huffed, standing to your feet. “I’m kind of tired, go ahead and watch without me.” 

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, puzzled by the excuse you used. His eyes shifted to Sarah as she tried to convince you to stay, merely for you to brush off her attempts with an apology, insisting they continue without you. 

He didn’t question you, yet, of course he was concerned, blaming your action back to what happened earlier. Sarah played the movie, and Rafe was on the edge of his seat the entire time, itching to check up on you, find the reason behind your discomfort. 

He could only handle so much, pulling out his phone when his curiosity was no longer bearable. 

You perked up at the knocks erupting through your ears, eyes widening with shock, yet slight anticipation. Scrambling out of bed, you moved to approach the sound, twisting the doorknob with interest, peaking your head through the crooked door. 

Your face flushed with heat at the sight of Rafe, concern washing over his face. He was slightly hovering over you, as you bent down, making him look extremely big compared to you. Rafe tilted his head, attempting to capture the rest of your face hidden behind the door. 

“Are you not inviting me inside?” He asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was in sight. 

“Why should I?” You scoffed, straightening your back. “Go back, they’ll be suspicious since you randomly disappeared.” 

“I excused myself to bed,” he explained, hand pressing to the door. “Now let me in, I won’t take long.” 

You suppressed the adrenaline rush filling up your insides, moving to the side for the purpose of welcoming Rafe in. The boy took the gesture for granted, entering and shutting the door behind him, his back pressing to the wood while his hand yet clutched to the doorknob. 

“Let’s talk.” 

“What’s there to talk about?” You rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest. “I said what needed to be said.”

“But I didn’t.” Rafe defensively shot back, darting his tongue out to wet his lips. “Now listen to me– I’ll be quick.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, skeptical with where this was going. “Go ahead.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier, hell, it was stupid.” His eyebrows furrowed with pent up frustration, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I jus’ got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

Your expression softened at the unexpected words, taken aback by his concern. Sure, you were expecting some sort of apology, but the way he spoke with such a sweet tone, indicating he was afraid he did something wrong, it didn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat, too caught up in your own head to respond. 

Gaping your mouth to speak, your action fell short when you heard a knock on the door, causing both you and Rafe to halt in your tracks. You hushed Rafe when he parted his lips to talk, pointing out the suspicious amount of noise seeping through the silence. 

“Do they know you're here?” You mouthed, making Rafe shake his head. 

“Bug!” Sarah’s voice erupted through your ears, eyes slightly widening when the girl knocked again, striving to grab your attention. “Open up, I know you’re awake.” 

“Hide,” you mouthed once again, grabbing Rafe by the wrist, and dragging him to your closet. “I’ll let you know when she leaves.” 

“Wait–” Rafe froze when you gestured towards the cramped space. “I’m not hiding in your closet.” 

“Do you wanna get us caught?” You warned, expression washing with disbelief. 

“You’re acting as if we did something,” he grumbled back, avoiding your gaze. “I’ll jus’ say I was speaking to you; it’s no big deal.” 

“You told them you were heading to bed,” you started, wincing when Sarah knocked again, implying she was still outside. “What will Ryan think when he finds out you were in my room, mind you, way past ten? Ryan’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us!”

“Okay,” Rafe huffed, “But I'm not hiding in your closet, I’ll wait in the bathroom until she leaves.” 

“What if she decides to use it?” You argued, considering the possibilities. “I’m not risking it, Rafe, hide until she leaves; I’ll come up with an excuse to get you out.” 

Without further questioning things, Rafe entered your closet, with you immediately shutting the door behind him. You mumbled a small ‘coming’ while aiming for the doorknob, coming to a halt when you twisted it open, anything but anticipating what was awaiting you outside. 

“Took you long enough!” Kiara’s voice echoed through your ears, a breath knocking out of your chest when she embraced you in a hug, soon followed with Cleo joining you, as well as Sarah, and the rest of the boys, who stood to the side and watched with amusement. 

“Why did no one tell me about this?” You gasped, tightening your hold around your friends. 

“It was a surprise!” Sarah muffled out. 

Yeah, Rafe was in for a night. 

a/n hii!! sorry these wasnt smau this chapter buttt i hope you enjoyed :) likes n reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

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[beeing1alive]

Turning on Tokyo Revengers boys without knowing it pt.1

f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)

Warning: Nsfw content, minors do not interact

Mikey:

can't help but get a hard-on when he sees you sitting on his motorbike

especially when it's summer and you're wearing short clothes

his gaze veils slightly, he draws the air through his teeth slightly and watches every movement you make

i'm not going to lie, he's never got hard so fast

Without hesitation, he ran over to you and sat on his motorbike with you, just to kiss you a little more intimately than he wanted to

you can always tell if he's Horney when he kisses you extremely kinky in public

Draken:

Gets hard the fastest when you wear his clothes

I think we can all agree when I say that he has a size kink

I mean, he just can't help it when he sees you in his clothes, which are obviously way too big for you

especially when you're wearing one of his shirts and otherwise just a pair of panties

his eyes would darken slightly and he would slowly move towards you to tell you that he has a big little problem in his trousers and that you could help him with it

Mitsuya:

jealousy turns him on immensely

I mean, I know he doesn't look it so much, but he gets rock hard in seconds when he sees you talking to another boy for a little too long

a chiselled smile appears on his handsome face and he tries as hard as he can to hide the ever-growing and pulsating bulge in his trousers, which he manages to do quite well

as soon as you and the boy are ready, he pulls you behind him, gently but firmly

the moment you arrive in a quiet corner, you are his

Baji:

nothing turns him on more than seeing you in a leadership position

I mean, when you assert yourself and do all those leader things

he'll sit still, his eyes veil slightly and he watches every little move you make

I'm not even lying when I say that he just sits there and a slight, barely noticeable blush spreads across his face as he notices his trousers getting tighter in a matter of seconds

Chifuyu:

gets hard within a few seconds if he sees you in short clothes

for example, shorts and a revealing shirt

he is just too innocent and would blush extremely and in rare cases get a nosebleed too

if he feels confident enough, he'll snuggle up to you from behind so you can feel his hard boner pressed against your bum, which doesn't make it any better for him

he'll gently give you a sweet kiss on the neck and tell you that you know how much it turns him on when you wear revealing clothes

Kazutora:

turns him on most of the time when you're sitting or lying on his lap

the first few times this happened, he was very uncomfortable because you felt it directly when he got hard and he can't hide it

when he's feeling very horny, he tries to move his hips against your bum to create friction

if you're also wearing short clothes, he'll almost come in his trousers at the slightest touch

I mean, that divine view of you, in short clothes, on his lap, pressed against his hard cock

he just can't help it, so don't be angry with him

Here is pt.2

Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. The credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please contact me.

[ssahotchnerr]

HI HONEY!! I have a fic request! Based on Aaron and his love for calling the reader sweet girl/his sweet girl. Where that’s his favorite nickname for her and she loves is sm and he loves it sm AND THEYRE JUST IN LOVE. I think that would be so cute!

endearments

i'm putting a (slightly) drunk aaron take on this 🤭 cw; fem!reader, mentions of drinking, soft drunk!aaron, vague suggestion, a lot of fluff <3

You had been on the brink of dozing off, but had fought against your heavy eyelids until Aaron returned home safely. It had been guys night out; aka Dave dragging him to some top-shelf fancy bar, or whatever establishment the David Rossi enjoyed to frequent.

The slower than normal pace echoed from down the hallway - locking the door, putting his coat away, a quick check on Jack; his usual night rounds. Finally he made his way into your shared bedroom, dropping soundly onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale. His aim, however, a bit off - he landed nearly on top of you.

You could smell the small aroma of bourbon on his breath. He always drank just enough to be tipsy, smart and conscious of avoiding a brutal hangover, or an alert tending to.

"My sweet girl."

His voice was heavenly deep, softer and smoother in its inebriated manner. It paralleled his actions: drunk Aaron meant clingy Aaron. His immediate tight hold solidified such.

"Hey," You adjusted yourself, laying more so on your side, facing him. Your voice was laced with your drowsiness; tone relaxed, content, making Aaron wonder why he didn't just stay home with you all night. "Have fun?"

"Yeah, it was nice." Your hand cupped his cheek momentarily, moving towards the nape of his neck. His glassy eyes admired you.

"Dave find any new wives?"

Aaron snorted gently, "Not this time."

You hummed in response, fingers running through the back of his hair. You switched between brushing through the short strands, and gently scratching his scalp. Aaron could've groaned at the feeling (he may have, he honestly couldn't recall if he did.) "Poor wing-manning on your end, then."

"Always next time." His head dropped into your neck, immediately pressing a gentle kiss into your skin. Then another, and another. His words were muffled when he spoke, "I missed you though, sweet girl. Wished you were with me the whole time."

You immediately flushed. While Aaron supplied you with multiple terms of endearment, this was without a doubt your favorite. It simply made you feel loved within its purest state. Adored.

Whereas Aaron loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It fit, just like the way his hand fit perfectly into yours, or the way your body molded perfectly into his - just like now. Not only that, he loved your reaction - the pet name turned you into a flustered, shy mess within seconds.

But now, in his drunken state, he wasn't saying so to fluster you, but it was the natural affection you caused him to possess, only elevated. His words rushed out effortlessly, freely. More insistent.

"You're blushing."

You scoffed lightly, all in amusement. "How do you know?"

"Because you're my sweet girl." His words slurred slightly, flowing together. If you didn't know any better, he was also falling asleep. He leaned up to kiss your lips, before his head dropped hastily back down onto your chest. "I know what I'm saying.

"You're drunk. Do you really?" You teased, your eyes narrowing with a small smile on your face.

"How dare you question otherwise."

You laughed softly, sitting up from your lying position, causing Aaron to whine as he slid off, breaking contact. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

Despite the shadows on half his face, half illuminated by the glow of the lap, you could see his lips tugging into a mischievous smirk.

"Wipe that look off your face Hotchner."

He allowed it to linger for just a playful moment longer, before his facial features relaxed, allowing you to pull off his clothes. You tossed them onto the ground carelessly - they could be dealt with in the morning. You tossed him yet another lighthearted glare at the second smirk that followed when you reached his belt buckle.

As tempting as it was, now wasn't the time.

In just his boxers and tee, his arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you as close as he could possibly get you. His face, right back into the crook of your neck. "My sweet girl."

His repetitive words left him in a sigh, quiet enough you wouldn't have known he mumbled them if it weren't him speaking directly into your skin, or for them vibrating into you.

You wiggled your hand out from his hold, draping it over his forearm and lazily tracing your fingertips along the veins his arms possessed.

"I love it, you know." You mumbled into the darkness, scooting back against him, burying your head into your pillow. Confirming the proximity, you almost couldn't be any closer. "Being yours."

He was fading fast, but still awake and aware enough to respond, "Can't imagine anything else."

[twd-bee3]

"Say Thank You, Baby."

Summary: While having sex, Daryl keeps brushing off your compliments. You pick up on it and go out of your way to convince him of just how perfect you think he is.

Warnings/Tags: purely smut, 18+ mdni, insecurity, praise kink, blowjob, slightly submissive Daryl, self-doubt, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season five, no use of y/n

Word count: 879 words

A/N: This was inspired by a scene in Elsie Silver's book Heartless, where the FMC struggles with accepting compliments and the MMC works to change that. My brain immediately thought of Daryl and the glimpses of his insecurity that we see in the show. This is purely self-indulgent, and I'm obsessed with reading the way my favorite mutual @b1eedthefreak writes submissive Daryl, so I gave it a go. This was also partly written for @darylsdelts. Anyway, this is my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it is dogshit.

Inside your bedroom, the two of you were lying in your bed, and your fingers were idly grazing Daryl's arm. He was always quiet after sex, but you never minded. You had always assumed that it was because he was tired. Tonight felt different, though.

“You okay, baby? Ain't done too much or nothin'?”

Slightly surprised that you had picked up on his tension, Daryl felt a bit embarrassed, and he shrugged off your concern. His voice was a little strained, which was a dead giveaway that he was overthinking.

“Just thinkin'.”

“Well, don't be thinkin' too hard. Ain't want you to hurt your pretty little head.”

Your tone may have been teasing, but your compliments always got to him. A slight flush dusted his cheeks, and he avoided your gaze.

“Guess I'm just wonderin' when you're gonna realize that you deserve better.”

You realized that he wasn't messing around, and he was genuinely feeling insecure. He got like this sometimes, and you remedied it the only way that you knew how. You were both still worked up from moments earlier, so you had no qualms about pleasuring him.

Your hand slipped into his boxers again, and you made sure that his eyes were on you. You stroked him gently, but didn't give him exactly what he wanted. He needed to work for that.

“You're fuckin' perfect. Don't let yourself think otherwise.”

Immediately reacting to your touch, his body tensed slightly and his cock twitched against your hand. A small whimper slipped from Daryl's lips, and he leaned his head back.

“Please, baby. Don't- don't tease me.”

“Eyes on me. Let me show you how perfect I think you are.”

You kept slowly working him with your palm and made sure that you weren't helping him reach his peak just yet. You wanted him to understand that you meant every word that came from your mouth.

Daryl gritted his teeth and squirmed beneath your touch. He couldn't stop himself from bucking his hips against your hand in a desperate attempt to find some relief. He knew you wanted an answer from him, so he gave you a shaky response.

“Tell me what you want me to say and I'll do it. I'll do anythin'. Please, baby. Please give me some relief.”

“When I compliment you, you say thank you, baby. No more of this self-deprecatin' bullshit. You're so fuckin' beautiful and I need you to understand that.”

Eager to release some of his tension, he nodded quickly and did what you asked. “Thank you, baby.”

“That's a good boy. You earned this.”

With a pleased grin on your face, you slipped off his boxers and prepared to give him what he needed. You slid down the covers and settled yourself between his legs. You gently moved his hard length and pressed it against his lower abdomen. Focusing on the head, you flattened your tongue and rhythmically licked the underside of his shaft. You repeated this motion a few times before pulling back.

“Fuck, Daryl. You feel so good on my tongue. You want me to go further, ain't you? Use your words.”

“Please- please keep goin', sweetheart. Please.”

Daryl looked down at you with a pleading expression and let out another soft whine. You were going slow on purpose, and he felt like he was going to explode. He needed you.

Satisfied with his begging, you nodded and used a hand to guide him deeper into your mouth. You had taken about three-quarters of his length and left some out, so you could wrap your fingers around the remaining bit. Once you were at a comfortable depth, you started to move your head up and down. Your movements were steady, and you maintained the pace that always drove him crazy.

At this point, Daryl was a mess, and he couldn't hold back the noises escaping from his throat. He kept mewling and his eyes were screwed shut. He would absolutely lose it if he looked down at you, and he wanted this to last longer.

“Please, sweetheart. Don't- don't stop. Feels so fuckin' good.”

You wanted him to fall apart for you, and you weren't above playing dirty. You switched up the pace and pushed him further into your mouth. Your soft moans reverberated against his cock and the sounds that Daryl was making told you that you were about to get exactly what you wanted.

Daryl couldn't take it anymore, and he was on the verge of tears. He knew that he was seconds away from blowing, and there was no stopping it.

“Baby, I'm- I'm gonna come.”

“Go ahead. You've been so good for me.”

You had slipped him out just enough so that you could speak before returning to your ministrations. Within seconds, a familiar warmth spilled into your mouth, and you continued working him through his orgasm. You swallowed and released him from your grip.

Daryl's head was laid back against the pillow, and his chest was heaving. He looked completely spent, and the sight alone was nearly enough to get you off. You wanted this to be about him, though. It took a lot of fucking willpower to keep it together.

Daryl finally caught his breath and gave you a lazy smile. “Thank you, baby.”

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ LOVE AND MERCY !

summary: you're more stubborn than the apocalypse. eric is the personification of a sad, wet dog. your world's collide when the world as you know it ends. (6.3k)

pairing: eric (a quiet place day one) / f!reader

contents: strangers to friends to lovers, a couple of losers in love, apocalyptic setting, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of grief and anxiety, brief mentions of injuries, and smut 18+

You wake up that morning in a bed that is not yours, in a room that does not belong to you, in an abandoned cabin you turned into a safe house three weeks ago.

Everything around you is foreign. Including the world outside these rotted walls, which turned entirely on its head in a blink. A blink that somehow turned into three months gone.

The only thing familiar to you now is the stranger lying in the bed beside you — on the right side that he has wordlessly claimed as his own. Before Eric was a guy you shared beds with, he was a guy you found in the rain. A boy with big, wet, puppy dog eyes who followed you like a stray after the world fell.

That was all he was to you for a month straight. A burden. Deadweight. An ever-anxious being that had nearly gotten you killed more times than you could count. You never saw him any differently until you almost died — a certain death involving you, an old beartrap, several aliens with uber-sensitive hearing, and a stupid boy who was too dumb to leave you behind. 

“I can’t leave you,” Eric blubbered through tears, whimpering in faint whispers so the blind monsters wouldn’t hear. “I won’t.”

“Then you won’t make it at all, you idiot,” you spat through gritted teeth, eyes wide and stern and glittering. You wouldn’t let yourself cry, not even with your leg all but torn to shreds, but Eric’s sudden stubbornness scared you. Why now? Of all times? you thought to yourself, Why does he have to be so stubborn now?

“I wouldn’t want to,” Eric promised, bloodied hands trembling where they gripped your arms. “I wouldn’t want to make it without you.”

That was a month or so ago, but you carry the horrors of that day still. 

In the vivid nightmares that rattle your bones. In the marred skin of your ankle, hidden beneath bandages, slowly healing with each passing day. And in the strange boy with puppy dog eyes who still hasn’t left your side.

Let me check your leg, Eric scribbles on a notepad. 

His handwriting is slanted and small and hardly legible — fitting for a man whose mind is always racing faster than he can keep up. 

The marker is fading slowly, too, dying from excessive use because the majority of your conversations are spoken through written words on a page. You’ve gone through a notebook or three already.

You snatch the notepad from his grip to write a response of your own. Eric peels the tattered blanket from your body to survey the gauze around your ankle. He peeks beneath the bandage, and his chest pinches at the sight — not because of his sensitive stomach, but because of the harsh reminder of the day he almost lost you.

The paper swishes faintly when you turn the notebook back to him. Okay, Dr. Eric :P, you’ve written in sloppy cursive. The boy grins at the mischievous look in your eyes.

“That’s Doctor Eric Esquire to you,” he corrects in a whisper that makes his accent sound more posh than usual. He smooths the gauze back into place with a gentle hand and says, “You’re healing fine, I think. I’ll have to go out and scavenge for more bandages soon, but these should last for another…”

The sounds of your rapid scribbling fill the quiet cabin. Eric trails off in wait, wide eyes darting from the marker in your hand to the pinched look of concentration on your face. 

He sees a strange sort of giddiness sparking in your otherwise serious features that makes him fearful. Intrigued, yes, but still distantly fearful. All your ideas tend to get him into trouble.

The notebook turns to him again. His stomach does a backflip.

Wanna go on an adventure?

“This is… Not what I was expecting,” Eric muses beneath the sounds of a rushing waterfall. 

His words echo slightly in the expanse of the dank cave. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice in full volume, deep and accented and smooth. His pretty whispering annoyed you to no end back when he was just a stranger with exactly zero survival instincts. Now, you never want him to stop talking.

“Well, that’s why it’s an adventure,” you lilt, wiping water from your brow with the neck of your t-shirt. 

Your clothes stick to you in places where the waterfall had splashed you on your way underneath it. The still air of the cave, strangely cool compared to the humid air outside of it, makes you fight back a shiver.

Eric eyes you from a distance, features swirled in a quiet concern. It’s impossible to relish in this little ounce of peace when you have the kind of mind he does — the kind of mind that’s always anxious and always filled with thoughts of you. 

He cares so much for you, far more than he planned to, that it’s made him chronically fearful. He’s grown to realize, since he met you, that the two words are rather synonymous. You can’t have love without fear — and what is there to be fearful for, if not for the ones you love?

“Your bandages really shouldn’t be getting wet, you know?”

You scoff and limp further into the damp hollow. The quiet sound of your steps reverberates within the stone walls, along with the subtle scuffing of your bad foot. “You said I was healing okay, remember?” you huff and drop the basket in your elbow onto the cobblestone.

“I said you were healing fine,” Eric chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a difference.”

“Not really,” you shrug with a scrunched nose, flashing him a fleeting glance over your shoulder. You turn away again and wince at the distant ache in your ankle when you crouch. 

Sometimes the scars hurt like they’re still fresh, still weeping scarlet and throbbing like a new wound. Eric’s not a doctor, but he tells you that it’ll probably be that way forever. “Phantom pains, I think they call it,” he says in a posh accent that makes him sound more official than he really is. You’re inclined to believe him, anyway.

The boy watches as you sort through the wicker basket you stole — or borrowed, as you claim, “’cause it’s not like the owner’s coming back for it anytime soon.” It’s full of stuff you wouldn’t let him see, like it was some kind of big secret. 

He grimaces when you squat, putting unnecessary weight on a barely healing leg. He knows it hurts, even when you pretend it doesn’t — especially when you pretend it doesn’t. His chest pinches like the ache is his own. Like sympathy pains or something. He worries so much for you that you’ve given him fucking sympathy pains.

“We shouldn’t have left,” Eric agonizes, wiping a pair of anxious hands down his face. He swipes his fingers through his hair and finds the chestnut curls now partially damp. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I mean, what if we have to run, huh? What if we have to—”

“We won’t,” you groan as you stand to full height again. You hold an old quilt in one arm and gesture wildly with the other. “That’s what the waterfall is for. They can’t hear us under here. Nothing’s coming.”

He knows you’re right, but it doesn’t worry him any less.

“How’d you even know this was out here?”

You falter for a moment. A mere blink of a second. But Eric catches it immediately because there isn’t anything about you he doesn’t instantly notice. He’s rarely ever seen you, his silver-tongued girl, so ambivalent. And something about it frightens him.

“I was… on a walk one day… while you were out scavenging—” you answer slowly, shrugging like it isn’t a big deal at all, though you immediately follow it with, “—Don’t get angry.”

Eric’s pink mouth falls softly agape, opening and closing like a fish’s might, while he tries to find the words to say. To shout. To scream. 

“Y-You... You— You left without me?” he stammers, voice booming. 

The words ring across the expanse of the shallow cave, bouncing off the damp stone walls. It’s the loudest he’s heard himself talk since the world ended, and the notion startles him. Like a dog just learning how to bark.

Eric’s breath hitches in his throat as his dark eyes widen in fear. He waits instinctively for the screeching of far-off monsters and their booming footsteps — prepares for an adrenaline rush that’ll give his weak arms the strength to carry both of you to safety.

It never comes. 

The sounds of the waterfall shield you from the war raging outside of it. 

When the panic passes, the anger resumes.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Eric agonizes, quieter now, though the corner of his lip twitches with withheld anger. 

You keep your back to the boy and lay out the contents of the wicker basket. A floral quilt to cushion the stone flooring, two bottles of wine to share between you, several bags of stale chips, and one MP3 player that’s somehow stronger than the end of the world. You pay Eric no mind as he continues to rant behind you.

“What if you’d gotten killed? What if— What if you got lost and I couldn’t find you—?!”

“Don’t shout!” you gripe despite your own booming voice. 

“Why not?” Eric questions with a cynical laugh. “I thought nothing could hear us under here?”

You spin back around to face him, grimacing slightly when your healing wounds start to burn. You tilt your chin in a look of defiance, though your eyes sparkle faintly in the dim natural light — something mischievous and strangely shy. 

“I don’t want you to shout because I put a lot of effort into this,” you answer in a steady voice, lips quirking in a distant smile. “And we can’t enjoy it if you’re gonna be grumpy the entire time.”

Eric blinks at you for several long moments, brown eyes wide like an owl. Only then does he notice what you’d set up for him in the brief minutes he’d been blinded by his anger. A picnic of sorts — fashioned with a moth-eaten quilt, dusty wine bottles, and snacks you’d scavenged and seemingly stashed like a squirrel. It’s about as fancy as you can get in an apocalypse.

His mouth opens and closes again, this time in a quiet sort of shock. “Wh… What?”

“Well, you kinda spent your entire birthday taking care of me, so… I figured we were past due for a celebration.”

Eric’s brows pinch together. A furrow of deep thought settles between them. 

He realizes he hadn’t thought twice about his birthday till now. Hadn’t thought twice about turning another year older, just like he hadn’t thought twice about needing to be repaid for taking care of you. He did both things without thinking. He can’t control his urge to dote on you like he can’t control the existential dread of getting older.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?”

“‘Cause you told me once,” you shrug. “And I keep track of the days in my calendar, so—”

“So, you’re saying that… That you did all this...” the man laughs, gesturing to the cave and the waterfall and the wine. “For me?”

A similar-sounding laugh sputters from your own mouth ‘cause you do it all for him. From going on stupid picnics to fighting monsters from another planet. Everything you’ve done up until this point, you realize now, you’ve done for Eric. You keep on living despite the unfavorable odds for Eric.

“Of course I did. It’s not that big of a deal,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest to shield your bleeding heart. “I mean, you kinda saved my life. The least I can do is take you on a stupid fucking picnic.”

When you turn around again to ease yourself onto the blanket, Eric tries to make out the words to thank you. Not just for what you’ve done here, but for what you’ve done all the days since he found you. Because you’ve saved his life too, more times than he could count, actually — ‘cause that’s just what you do. You save each other and don’t think twice about it because that’s what you do when you care for someone.

He forgot all about birthdays and picnics and what it meant to be alive before he found you. And now that you’re here, you spend every single day reminding him of everything the end of the world begs him to forget.

“I’m— I’m sorry… I’m sorry for shouting at you,” Eric stammers in a sheepish murmur, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“I know,” you nod, smiling as you pat the spare spot beside you. “Now stop being weird and come sit down.”

The wine is warm, the chips are stale, and the quilt just barely cushions the hard ground beneath you — but everything’s still somehow perfect. Your MP3 player is almost as old as you are and cracked down the middle, but the music plays just perfectly from its headphones, anyway. 

Maybe it’s perfect ‘cause it’s not perfect. 

Or maybe it’s perfect because you’re here.

You sit side-by-side on the handmade blanket, legs crossed and knees brushing, as you share an earbud between you. Conversation ebbs and flows between snacking. Music fills the silence.

I was sittin’ in a crummy movie with my hands on my chin,

All the violence that occurs, seems like we never win...

Eric tips his head back to down the rest of the cheesy crumbs in the package he holds in a pale fist. His scruffy cheeks jut like a chipmunk as he chews through the mouthful. “I missed this, you know?” he mumbles.

You set the wine bottle beside you after taking a lengthy sip, licking the bitter-sweet grape from your lips. “What?” you wonder aloud. “The wine? The Cheetos? The music?”

The boy goes quiet as he ponders the question. He figures he was talking about you, mostly — this sort of connection between humans, this sort of comfort, this sort of normalcy. The music answers your question in his silence.

—Love and mercy, that’s what you need tonight…

So love and mercy, to you and your friends tonight…

He nods anyway. “All of the above, actually…”

“You know what I miss?” you wonder beneath the rustling of the Scooby Snacks you dig your hand into. You chuck a cartoon bone into your mouth and find the graham-cracker components have gone soft with time. “I miss driving down backroads… going way faster than what’s probably allowed… with the windows down and the radio all the way up…”

Eric watches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare, unblinking, at the waterfall ahead of you. Clear water rushes from the mountain and falls hard onto the cobbles and the still water below. Rogue drops splatter inside the shallow cave, occasionally splashing you with fat droplets.

The running waterfall cast fleeting shadows over your face, littered now with faint scars. Your features are much softer than he’s used to in the natural light.

“I miss college parties,” he confesses, wiping his palms on his knees.

You wash the dry graham cracker out with another sip of wine and try not to laugh as you swallow it down.

“Why’s that funny?” Eric wonders through his own chuckle, only partially offended.

“I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t take you for a partier.”

“I wasn’t really…” he concedes with a shy shrug, gaze averted and cheeks pink. “But I was a really big fan of karaoke.”

“Well, that makes a lot more sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Eric humors with a scrunched nose.

You tilt your head back to laugh — a pretty, airy sound that echoes within the cobbled walls, only partially drowned out beneath the rushing waterfall. You shift closer toward him when you’re upright again, probably without realizing, but Eric notices. He can’t help but notice everything you do. And he can’t help but lean instinctively closer to you, too.

He can smell the natural scent of you beneath the various surrounding ones — of freshwater, pine, and whatever cologne was spritzed on your shirt before you found it. He can smell the sweet wine on your breath, too, and he quickly realizes that you’re close enough to kiss. If only he weren’t so chicken shit.

The proximity makes his cheeks flush, though you’re not nearly as fazed by it.

“I forgot what that felt like…” you muse in a quiet voice of disbelief.

Eric smiles so hard his eyes squint. “What?”

“I don’t know… just, like, happiness? I guess?” you laugh. “I used to think that was impossible before now.”

“Yeah… Me too.” 

The conversation lulls for a moment. The music playing in your ears takes over: 

—I was standing at a bar and watching all the people there…

All the loneliness in this world, well, it’s just not fair…

You cage your smile between your teeth in a feeble attempt to conceal how wide it’s grown. Your eyes are wide and sparkling, likely from the wine, as they flit between both of his darker ones. Eric exhales a breathy chuckle in response, all giddy and nervous for a reason he can’t name (probably from the wine, too, if he had to guess).

He feels himself leaning in to kiss you before he realizes it. He only catches himself when you pull unknowingly away, reaching again for the glass bottle at your side. His heart drops to his swirling stomach as his cheeks flare a deep pink.

“I’m glad you followed me like a creep for a week straight, you know that?” you confess with a teasing squint in your eyes as you bring the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

Eric scoffs at the memory, which feels like yesterday and ancient history all at once.

He was by himself when the world first fell — a stranger in a strange country, and the loneliest he’d ever been in his life. And, perhaps, the most scared, too. 

Then, all of a sudden, he sees this girl rush out of an alleyway and into a monster-infested street to save a dog from an otherwise unavoidable death. Eric watched from a distance as you returned the scared pup to its owners — a very young couple cowering behind a car, not that much older than you. 

You pointed them in the direction of a military base setting up camps for civilians then went the opposite way. Away from guaranteed protection. Like the safest hands were your own. 

Eric made the quick decision to follow you as you went. He figured if you were brave enough to save some dog that wasn’t yours, and stare death directly in the face while you did it, then you could do just about anything.

He didn’t know, then, that he was making the best decision he’d ever made in his life.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t pummel me in the face for following you like a creep.”

“I should’ve,” you quip. “But I liked your company too much, I guess…”

“Liked?” the boy parrots, laughing loudly at the turn of phrase. “Is this your way of saying you’re finally tired of me?”

You roll your eyes and hide your smirk behind the neck of the wine bottle. “Do you think I would’ve done all this shit if I wasn’t the least bit fond of you, Eric?”

The question is rhetorical, but you expect a lighthearted quip from the British boy anyway. Your words seem to settle something heavy on him, though. It’s the very first time you’ve admitted out loud, without a shred of sarcasm, how much you really care for him. 

Eric forgets to say anything at all. The cave fills with a loud silence. The steady drumming of the waterfall and the whisper of rustling trees. Strangely peaceful for the end of the world. 

“Wanna know something wild?” he asks you after a few long moments. His accent makes the words sound heavy on his tongue. Your brows raise to egg him on, and he continues, stumbling over himself in the process. “I’m… I’m not happy the world ended, but… I am— I am glad that it brought me you.”

Your breath catches. It’s the most profound thing anyone’s ever said to you, you think. Way deeper than any measly ‘I love you.’ And how are you meant to respond to that? To his confession that the end of the world was worth finding you? There’s no string of words in the English language that could possibly compare to that.

Eric waits for your response with bated breath. He hopes for an affirmation of your similar affection, of course, but a rejection would be better than nothing at all. He blinks at you with hopeful chocolate eyes, then flinches away when you laugh.

“You’re such a sap,” you say, giggling, as you reach suddenly for his face.

You cradle his scruffy jaw between warm and gently calloused hands, pulling him into you with an admirable effortlessness. You kiss him like it’s natural to you — like he was never just a stranger — like you’ve spent entire lifetimes kissing him.

You take the breath from his lungs with little effort. Eric tips his head back and sighs when you swipe your tongue along his chapped bottom lip. The exhaled breath fans across your cupid’s bow, and you smile against his mouth as you clamor gracelessly into his lap — straddling his lean hips and pressing your beating heart to his. 

The earbuds fall carelessly to the ground, and the fading song plays muffedly from beside you:

—Love and mercy, that’s what you need tonight…

So love and mercy, to you and your friends tonight…

Your mouths click when they part, a subtle sound beneath the drumming waterfall behind you. Your eyes are heavy and lidding as they fall to Eric’s kissed mouth — now a rosier shade, gently swollen, and shining with your spit. A stamp of ownership, almost, that makes your chest swell with pride.

Eric looks up at you with big, wet eyes as his hands fidget on either side of your waist. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages,” he confesses in a low murmur.

A small smile quirks faintly at the edges of your mouth. “Could you maybe say something that’s not super cliché?” you tease.

“How about… I really, really want to kiss you again?” Eric offers in a honeyed tone that makes his accent heavier. He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “And that I… I wanna make you feel good?”

You cage your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your smile. Your fingertips are calloused and cold as they toy with the curls at the nape of his neck — tiny chestnut strands coiled in perfect ringlets. Eric fights back a shiver.

“Then I’d say that…” you begin with a mischievous lilt to your voice, wild eyes flitting from his pink lips to his watery eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages.”

You part from him then, taking the warmth of your body with you as you sit on your knees across from him. The rugged ground is hardly cushioned by the thin quilt. You can vaguely feel small rocks digging into your skin, but your need for him is much louder. 

You cross your arms in front of yourself to swipe your t-shirt over your head. You toss the discarded fabric carelessly beside you, then work at the buttons of your jeans — also borrowed, and just a half-size too big for you. 

Eric watches with his heart in his throat. It’s the most naked you’ve ever been in front of him before. The sight of your bare skin, covered now only in the sports bra you’ve had since the world ended, makes his head swim. It takes him a moment too long to realize he should be undressing, too, and he rushes to catch up.

The two of you undress yourselves in relative silence. The sight is hardly as sexy as you’d expect — full of fumbling limbs far too eager to be graceful. Eric’s shirt gets stuck on his chin. Your jeans get caught at your ankle. The tense lull between you ebbs into a symphony of entwining giggles.

With your clothes scattered in abandoned piles, you lay back against the blanket. Eric settles on top of you with a strange sort of effortlessness — like it’s muscle memory to him, even though neither of you has done this for a long, long while — much less with each other. 

The weight of his body is warm and heavy over yours. You slide your hands under his arms and curl them over his freckled shoulders, digging your nails softly into his pale skin to pull him further into you. 

You watch with heavily lidded eyes as Eric brings his hand to his mouth. He slides his pointer and middle finger between his lips, wetting the pads of them with his tongue. You exhale a deep breath when the limbs come out again, glittering in the low light. 

He studies your features with a dark and unwavering stare as he slips his fingers between the lips of your pussy — tracing the velvety lips for a moment before easing them slowly inside. Your eyes flutter shut at the foreign feeling. Eric smiles to himself, wrist flexing, as he explores your silky cunt with his fingers. 

“Please fuck me,” you sigh when his palm bumps your swollen clit. Your head tips back as your hips buck upward, all but melting under his touch. “Please.”

It takes Eric a moment or more to formulate a response. You’ve never been so subservient like this before, so needy for him. This must be the eighth wonder of the world, he thinks to himself, as he continues to work you open with unworthy hands.

“Have to get you ready for me first,” he tells you, voice and low gritty, as he exhales a breathy chuckle that fans across your jaw. “Don’t wanna break you, honey.”

You manage a scoff in response. “Well, that’s very presumptuous of you— oh…”

Eric crooks his fingers until the tips of them brush a spongy depth inside you. Your mouth falls agape at the feeling, so foreignly full beneath him. His spit-slick lips curl into a lazy smirk. “That shut you up, didn’t it?”

You would’ve spit a snide remark back at him if his thumb hadn’t pressed so mercilessly to your delicate clit then. The words dissolve like dust on your tongue and escape only as a breathy moan. 

Eric continues his relentless pursuit with nothing but two of his fingers. Relentless, you think,because he’s hardly trying to make you cum now. You’re not sure if he’s just oblivious to how good he’s making you feel, or if he’s pushing you to the edge and jerking you back on purpose. It’s agony either way.

He only stops when his pointer and middle finger start to prune, the pads of them softly wrinkled from your honey. He wipes them off on the quilt like a total barbarian. You would’ve said something about that, too, if you weren’t still trying to catch your breath.

Eric rises to his knees. His bare chest, dusted with sparse hair over the sternum, rises and falls with uneven pants. His cock hangs heavy between his spread thighs — half-hard, glowing red, and leaking faintly at the tip. His wide hands are softer than your own as they smooth up and down the length of your thighs. His thumbs rub soothingly over the supple insides of them — with a touch almost as gentle as the melted chocolate gaze he looks at you with. 

“Are you alright?” he wonders, all quiet and suddenly shy, like you aren’t all but dripping for him now.

“You’re so annoying,” you gripe with a scoffed-out laugh, rolling your eyes because you’re certain he’s teasing you. Your stomach sinks when the genuine glimmer in his eyes doesn’t waver. You squirm beneath him and his unyielding gaze. “I’m okay, Eric,” you murmur sheepishly, never easily serious.

He nods to himself and swallows hard, still visibly unsure. It makes you wonder if he’s second-guessing. “Stop staring and kiss me, you asshole,” you grouse with a forced laugh, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

Eric’s mouth quirks in an absentminded smile. “Just let me look at you for a second…” he whispers, squeezing the outsides of your thighs with warm hands.

“We don’t have to whisper anymore, dummy,” you tease in a hushed tone of your own.

His grin widens until his eyes wrinkle at the edges and his tongue pokes softly through his teeth. He laughs despite himself and grips his heavy cock in his fist. “You’re so mean, you know that?” he asks, folding your knee back with his free hand. You’re not sure if he’s expecting a real response, but he slips into you before you can give him one.

He fucks into you slow — bitterly, painfully, and agonizingly slow — forcing you to feel every inch of him. His cock is of average length, but girthy enough to stretch you open. You’re suddenly grateful he thought to use his fingers on you despite your impatience, but the two of them alone hardly equate to how thick he is.

Both of you inhale sharply when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, neither exactly used to the feeling. Eric allows you a moment or more to adjust before sliding out again. You exhale softly together in entwining moans that get lost beneath the sounds of a raging waterfall.

Eric thrusts into you again with gritted teeth, trying not to whimper too loudly when your pussy clenches around him. He bends at the waist to hide his face in your neck and exhales all his pathetic moans there. 

He keeps one hand clenched into a fist on the blanket to prop up his weight; his other slides beneath your head to cushion your skull from the hard ground. You grip the boy by his flexing biceps, digging your nails into the skin every time he thrusts into you. Jaw clenched, nose scrunched, eyes squinted — you take his cock without complaint despite the very loud feeling that it’s all too much for you.

Eric is everywhere, and the notion alone overwhelms you. He’s in you, on top of you, all over you. Like the air you breathe. You need him just the same. Not because he’s your friend but because you’re scared you might seriously die without him. 

It’s dramatic at best. At worst, it’s the exact opposite feeling you should have for anyone in the apocalypse, where death is essentially promised for both of you.

Tears prick your eyes at the thought, though you’d rather blame them on Eric’s merciless thrusts. They’re sloppy and unmeasured as he struggles to find a rhythm. He’s similarly overwhelmed by the pleasure. You can tell by the way his body trembles over yours, and the way he buries loud moans into your pulsepoint. You can feel the vibrations of each moan in your veins. 

The way you’re pinned beneath him cages your clit between your bodies. Every time Eric’s lean hips thrust upward and back again, the coarse thatch of hair above his cock brushes your sensitive button. You couldn’t free yourself from it if you tried. You’re not sure if you even want to.

“This is good for you, right?” Eric wonders through heavy pants, voice wavering under the weight of his pleasure. “Please tell me this is good for you.”

Any other time, you would’ve laughed at him, but now you only nod. Rapidly and with your jaw clenched tight. Just as pathetic as he is. 

“’S good,” you promise through gritted teeth as the coil in the pit of your stomach starts to tighten. “It’s so good, Eric. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

The affirmation makes him moan. Loudly. Enough for you to be momentarily grateful for the cover of the rumbling waterfall. Eric buckles down over you and strengthens his rapid, irregularly timed thrusts with a feeble cry. 

Your own whine rumbles in your throat, falling from your mouth like honey. Your warm skin, now slick with a layer of sweat, begins to buzz. The need for release builds like a dam within you — somewhere deep, right where the tip of Eric’s cock fucks into you. 

Your thighs start to tremble on either side of his waist. Your hips begin to buck despite yourself. You can’t be sure if you’re running from the pleasure now, or chasing it entirely.

“You gotta cum, baby,” Eric tells you through a pitiful whine, face still tucked into your neck. He licks his lips and starts to babble: “I can’t— I’m too close— I need you to cum before I do, baby— Need you to cum right now— Fuck.”

“Is your idea of dirty talk always this pathetic?” you would’ve joked if you weren’t already cumming for him. 

Your mouth falls agape in a silent moan as your head tips back into his palm. Your back arches as you reach the height of your pleasure, pussy fluttering through every wave of it. 

Eric fucks you the entire way through your orgasm — despite your nails biting crescent shapes into his shoulders, despite your velvety cunt tightening around him, despite the very overwhelming feeling that he might burst entirely.

Only when your body goes lax does he pull out of you. 

The empty feeling makes you whimper. Your weeping pussy clenches around nothing while Eric jerks himself off. You can’t see him, but you can feel his wrist moving in rapid motions between your legs. 

A groan rumbles deep in his throat as he tenses on top of you. His still body goes rigid. Something warm and wet spits on your inner thigh a second later — a heavy load of his pearly white cum, which he gives you three of before he’s milked himself dry.

Eric collapses on top of you when he’s officially spent. He forgets to hold up his weight, and you deliberately decide not to remind him. You let the man soak in the waves of his pleasure while you strain to reach the wicker basket at your side — struggling for a moment to find the handful of napkins at the very bottom, then using them to wipe up the mess on your thigh.

“Ah, shit,” Eric curses when he notices (his mess or his weight, you can’t quite tell). He sniffles and rolls off of you. “Sorry…”

Your head whips in his direction. You find his face all flushed, glowing red along the apples of his cheeks and the very tip of his nose. His eyes are big and wet, too, glassy like he might cry. 

Buzzing with concern, you rise to your knees, watching intently as Eric reaches for your discarded pile of clothes. You set them aside when he passes them to you and hold his face in your hands instead. His stubble scratches at your delicate palms. Your wide eyes sparkle with concern as they dart over his teary features.

“Hey… Hey, what happened?” you agonize. “Are you okay?”

Eric laughs at himself, then sniffles again as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah… So much for not being cliché, right?” he jokes.

“What happened?” you repeat, giggling this time at his crooked smile.

“Nothing,” he assures, shrugging his freckled shoulders. “I just… I’m just really happy, I guess…”

Your tight chest deflates with a sigh of relief as you nod in response. “Yeah… I am, too.”

Eric’s grin widens at your confession. His cheeks speckle a rosy color, like he’s pleasantly surprised by the response — as if his softening cock isn’t still sparkling with a mixture of your cum. 

You meet his smile with a scowl, rolling your eyes as you shove playfully at his shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble and turn away from him, reaching for your clothes. 

Your body looms over him as you stand, putting very little weight on your scarred leg. You bend at the waist to tug your underwear up your thighs.

Eric shoves his boxers on with a cheeky grin. “I’m really glad I found you, you know that, right? Even though you’re mean to me all the time?”

You scoff and drag your sports bra over your torso, yanking it at the hem to pull it over your breasts. “I’m happy you found me, too, stalker,” you respond in a monotone that would otherwise suggest the opposite. But Eric catches you smiling when you reach beside him for your shirt and knows you really mean it. 

“You love me,” he insists playfully, right before stealing a kiss from you. 

His lips only manage to brush the corner of your mouth in his haste, but he grins wide about it anyway. Your face screws like you weren’t begging him to fuck you ten minutes ago, as you wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.

“You’re disgusting…” he hears you mumbling as you turn away, tugging your shirt over your head. 

But he knows what you really mean.

[brattyspence]

as per request from @lafilledemiel

bau!reader (maybe!) and she's getting ready for a party or whatever. morgan and spencer are in her bedroom. she's telling them about a douche she met at a bar and while morgan is listening (he's bestie!), spencer is completely zoned out thinking about how pretty she is. :((

tags: fem presenting reader, reader wears makeup, down bad!spencer, derek is here!, never ever proofread

word count: ~650

masterlist

“You guys seriously need to start branching out. There's more to life than sticky old O’Keefes.”

Spencer isn't really listening. He’s sitting awkwardly on the end of your bed, studying the pattern of your old quilt that's long gone threadbare. It's evidence of you in ways he's never seen you before. It's an apartment filled with the scent of your laundry detergent. It's your half empty bottled of perfume and your closet and your shoes by the door.

This, he thinks, must be what it's like.

“What's wrong with sticky?” Derek quips. “No one's touching the floor.”

“You don't want ambiance? A little class, maybe?” You ask, a smile creeping across your face. You're leaning over the bathroom counter, makeup spread everywhere.

Spencer doesn't understand the appeal of nightlife. He doesn't enjoy drinking, nor does he want to socialize, but if you're inviting him, he has feels more than obligated. Especially with the added benefit of whatever ‘pregaming’ at your apartment means.

“O’Keefe’s is a fine establishment,” Derek says. When he rounds the corner into your room this time, he has a drink in each hand. He hands one to Spencer with a suspicious glance before sitting next to him.

“It is absolutely not.” Your words are pointed by the click of a compact. “Sleazy is the word I would use. Just look at their average clientele.”

“So you had a run-in with one bad apple.”

“More than one,” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“So enlighten me,” Derek says, setting his drink down. “Who ruined it for you?”

Spencer, still only half listening, is more concerned with watching the way you line your lips. He's memorizing the each detail of the dress you're wearing, how it sits on your body and shimmers as you lean over the countertop.

“Oh, some douche,” you huff. “It was all going well. You know. The usual small talk. The guy bought me a drink. And then he wanted to talk about work.”

“Hm.” Derek nods.

“So I told him what I do for work. And he tried to suggest that I was lying, because ‘women don't work in that kind of law enforcement’ and 'you're too pretty for that.’ And so naturally I was upset, and then he got really upset that I wouldn't let him take me home.”

You shut the lights off in your bathroom and make your way out, brushing yourself off one final time. As you look down to straighten out your dress, Spencer is keenly aware of the way your hair falls into your face just for a moment before you brush it back into place again.

“So he was a douchebag. They exist everywhere.”

“But there are less of them at nicer bars, Derek. The ratio of scumbag-to-decent person is better.”

Derek laughs to himself, and finishes off the last of his drink.

“You better be right. Otherwise you made pretty boy get all dressed up for nothing.”

As you laugh at the comment, Spencer is busy absorbing the sound rather than the conversation itself. So much so that he doesn't realize he’s expected to reply.

“Earth to Spence,” you say with a smile. “You okay?”

You can nearly see him snap back into gear. He swallows, and sits up a little straighter.

“Oh–Yeah. Sorry. Distracted.”

Within the next few minutes, you're finally heading out. You're only a few steps ahead of Derek and Spencer as you make your way out onto the street, just out of earshot to miss the teasing.

“Come on, man,” Derek smiles, with a heavy pat against Spencer’s shoulder. “You’ve got to be less obvious.”

He could defend himself, of course, but he doesn't, opting instead to nod to himself.

“Oh, come on guys. You walk so slow!” You tease, turning back to close the gap. This time, when you look back at him, you don't miss the hint of blush still across Spencer’s cheeks.

[dreamerimpossible]

His reaction when you say someone else's name during sex.

Warnings: +18 content, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, dark content, toxic behavior, threats.

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Masky, Hoodie, Laughing Jack, Ticci Toby.

Jeff the Killer

He covers your mouth and proceeds to fuck you even more violently than before. He chokes you and thinks he's suffocating the person you named. Your legs will shake after that. When he's done, he looks at you angrily; you know he's about to make a jealous scene. There's screaming and abuse. Neither of you can control yourself. He kills the person. You make a scene too; he continues it: there's a lot of stuff lying around. You have hate sex. He makes a jealous scene, then remembering what happened, you get angry and continue the argument. Just a big vicious cycle.

Masky

He stops. He looks at you through his mask. I'd like to say he'd fuck you more violently and get even, but he'd probably get really angry, and that would make him not want to have sex anymore. He yells at you and blames you. Lots of threats and reminders that he has you in his hands to do whatever he wants. He's a scary man. The only way to get him to stop acting like this is to tell him that you don't care if that person dies or not. The next morning you find something meaningful from the other person on your nightstand; you have to hold back your scream; otherwise he'll think you lied to him. Depending on how you react, that will be his reaction. If you have no reaction at all, he'll relax, thinking it was just a little slip-up on your part.

Hoodie

He plays with you. He records you and degrades you. He leaves videos for the person you named to see. The videos are embarrassing, you repeatedly moaning “Hoodie” until your throat hurts and your voice cracks. Your naked body with bruises and scratches. You with your legs spread wide open as Masky and Hoodie take turns fucking you. You in the woods in handcuffs as you sat naked in the grass while he masturbated and you waited for his cum with a fervor absolutely unknown to you. You're begging Hoodie to touch you while he makes you say the dirtiest, most lustful things you've ever heard. You in different positions... I think you get the idea.

Laughing Jack

He'd be amused. He's a sadist. I doubt he'd be interested in sex without some extra incentive. So that just makes things better. Maybe he'll kidnap the guy and tie him to the bleachers as the only spectator of his circus show and force him to watch as he uses you sexually and plays with your body no matter what you say. It all ends in a sordid game of laughing jack, and you frankly think it would have been much better if he just felt jealous. But you know what he's like; you know the boundaries of his sanity have been pushed and taken with him, so you'll probably ask for more and more pain and be glad that the guy is so disgusted watching it.

Ticci Toby

He stops abruptly. Someone could get hurt. You didn’t know who: him, the guy you named, or you. You didn’t know; it depended on how well he processes things. You back away from him slowly, with fine rigor, not letting him see that you’re scared of him. You could see him making confusing decisions in his mind. You can’t do anything but wait and pray that he doesn’t show you his bad side. You avoid explanations; you avoid everything. Any sound. You don’t have to prove that you exist in that room. He doesn’t calm down, but he leaves; he was so angry with you. He doesn’t come back for a few weeks. When he comes back, he expects you to still be sorry and ask for forgiveness. You do. You don’t know if it’s out of fear or love, but you do.

[demolitionsweetheart]

Relationship headcanons

Shadow the hedgehog x reader

(Can be mobian or human!)

๑ Obviously, shadow is incredibly protective, especially after everything with Maria. He's immensely loyal and doesn't let anyone get too close to you.. Physically or otherwise. His past made him very cautious, he'll guide you with a gentle hand on your back or interlock your fingers after refusing to let you leave on a walk by yourself. He never takes any time you spend together for granted, always going out of his way to make sure you feel safe. At times it can be overwhelming but it's just his way of showing how much he cares, he'd rather be way overly cautious then risk losing you.

๑ Though he is protective, if you're capable, he'll acknowledge that, even if he's not entirely comfortable leaving you to handle something on your own, he trusts you.

๑ Shadow is more drawn to people who see him for who he truly is, not something dangerous, not a weapon, not an experiment. Being so familiar with the pitiful stares of the scientists, he's finally content with the way you see him.

๑ Shadow isn't big on PDA-He thinks it's inappropriate and unnecessary, but like I said he's protective and very possessive so he will do subtle gestures like holding hands, but nothing more. At least, not when anyone else was around. Behind closed doors, it's a totally different story. He's surprisingly gentle and affectionate, pulling your head to his chest, pressing kisses your hair. He hold you like he's afraid he'll lose you if he holds you any looser. He won't admit it but away from prying eyes, he craves your touch.

๑ When he isn't feeling well-whether hes physically drained or mentally exhausted, he loves being held(again hed never admit that either). He loves the feeling of your hands combing through his quills until he inevitably drifts off from the comfort.

๑ He purrs-much to his embarrassment. He tries to control it but everytime you run your fingers through his quills,  the sound slips. He hates how much it exposes him, makes it painfully obvious he's enjoying your touch.

๑ He's not big on giving words of affirmation unless you are feeling really down or seem uncomfortable- he prefers to show his love through acts of service and quality time. He'll tie your shoes, bring you food, brush or wash your hair, teach you to skate, even comply with your silly requests like letting you style his quills˃̵ᴗ˂̵. If youre not feeling your best, he loves cuddling or stargazing, even if it means just lying together in comfortable silence. He enjoys the closeness and hopes you do to, wanting nothing more than to see you back to your cheerful self.

๑ When you're happy,  he's happy. He avoids conflict-not that he does anything that would cause it. He just doesn't want you to be upset with him.  He knows how lucky he is to have you and would never want to take that for granted.

๑ He's so in love it hurts. Even if he struggles to express it sometimes, it's in everything he does. So he might not always say it,  but you never have to doubt it.

Thank you for reading! And thanks to the multiple anons requesting this☺︎ I used "you" and "your" to make it more personal this time. I hope you enjoyed!

Requests are open!

Dividers by @pixxiecup and pictures from Pinterest!

[melanchoire]

G!p Yujin fucking reader while Wonyoung watches on the side, enjoying the show before joining the two of you and sitting on your face as Yujin continues

WHAT IF I PROPOSE mean girl wonyoung and loser yujin 👀

wonyoung wasn’t exactly a bully, actually, she was more of a typical pretty and popular girl who has fun talking about other people’s personal lives and spreading gossip. and like all this kind of person, she always had someone in her sights and victim of her mockery; the biggest losers of the university, yujin and her girlfriend

she doesn’t understand how you two don’t have a bad reputation. i mean, losers who are the star students of their classes are supposed to be seen as idiots, not the school’s sweetheart couple that everyone loves and finds adorable 😤

and she always has a comment to make when she sees you two together. wonyoung doesn’t care if it’t a simple comment as she passes by you two or if she even dares to stop next to you just for this, she loves this

“when will be the day you can have the balls to fuck your girlfriend, ahn? still being a virgin even with a girlfriend must hurt. sometimes you make me wonder if you two have even had your first kiss.”

and it’s really exhausting! she is always there. you’re having lunch with yujin in the cafeteria and she is looking in your direction. you’re walking hand in hand with yujin down the hall and she is just there. you’re alone with yujin in the classroom and she shows up there because coincidentally she just forgot something in the classroom

then one day you don’t know how but wonyoung manages to go to your shared dorm with yujin just to watch her fuck you because she doesn’t believe that two losers can do it? WELL—

wonyoung tries hard to hide her surprise when she sees that you two were serious when you told her that you’ve done this before 😭 of course someone with a reputation and social status like hers wouldn’t think two bookworms could fuck or even have a love life, much less when two of that weirdo were dating!

she was in awe at the sight of you lying on the bed, with your shirt unbuttoned and your tits bouncing beneath the confines of your bra due to how hard yujin was ramming her cock into you 😔 breathy and whiny moans escaping your lips every time yujin’s hips slammed against your ass in a speed that you're sure makes the head of the bed hit against the wall of the room

and she is also impressed because she never saw this side of yujin 😳 always looking so charming and charismatic, a sweet and friendly girl with everyone and a complete gentlemanly sweetheart with her girlfriend 🥺💕 but right now, there was nothing sweet about the way yujin was growling against your shoulder and fucking you like she hated you 🥰

but even here you can’t save yourself from wonyoung’s bad luck! she is here, kneeling next to you on the bed

“play with your tits while yujin fucks you, (y/n)–ah. you know how to do it, right? or has your girlfriend never given you anything more than awkward vanilla sex?”

and you obey her order like the good girl you always are 🥺 you would have just pulled down your bra to expose your breasts if it weren’t for yujin directing her hands to your back for a moment, unhooking your bra and helping you take it off along with your shirt, giving you better comfort because even in this humiliating moment she is a sweet girlfriend who wants to provide you with the best comfort and experience possible 🥹💕

and the way you cup your tits in your hands and pinch and twist your nipples between your fingers makes wonyoung understand that this is clearly not the first time you’ve done this…

wonyoung doesn’t let the stern look that yujin gives her pass, being aware of the way wonyoung’s eyes were shamelessly scanning your body, but yujin looks so attractive and so dorky at the same time with those thick frame glasses that wonyoung can’t help but tease her too 🥰

“yujin–ah, you should move your hips like this. otherwise, you will never give your girlfriend an orgasm.” moving her hands to yujin’s hips and beginning to guide her movements, forcing yujin to give you harder and deeper thrusts that make you both moan at the same time

yujin looking so attractive as she runs a hand through her messy hair, taking a moment to adjust the glasses that threatened to fall off the bridge of her nose as she bit her lip and drops of sweat slowly ran down her neck. “don’t listen to her, princess. you’re doing a good job, being such a good girl for me. now just lie there and take what daddy gives you.” yujin says as she lifts your legs up onto her thighs, sliding a hand between your legs and beginning to play with your clit the way she knows you like it 😵‍💫

wonyoung would have made a comment and dirty joke about whether yujin knew where the clit was located, but she was so shocked because she never thought you two would have this kind of dynamic 😳 always thinking that you two were the kind of idiots who don’t know how to fuck properly and make everything awkward and weird, making her swallow her words and start to get frustrated for witnessing such a good fuck and not being able to be part of it 💔

when she knows that the orgasm of both of you is close she knows that it’s her moment to tease! or so she thinks…

“c’mon yujin, are you going to take your cock out and jerk off to cum on her—? oh…” and she is surprised when she sees, that on the contrary, yujin does not withdraw inside you when she cums, shooting her heavy load into your womb, filling you with her warm cum while at the same time you squirt all over her cock, keeping her length inside you to make sure her cum stays in there until your pussy swallows it whole 😍

wonyoung is so focused on the way the combined fluids of both of you are oozing out from your pussy that she doesn’t notice when yujin gets up from the bed and approaches her, realizing this when she feels a hand grab a handful of her hair and give it a sharp tug that makes her wince in pain

“now, i want you to sit on my girlfriend’s face and look me straight in the eyes while she does it. let’s see if she is also a virgin loser like you always say.” and wonyoung knows she is screwed when she sees how you’re now lying on your side, eyes half–closed and a lazy grin as you move your index finger for her to come closer…

[baby-yongbok]

Attitude Adjustment

Seungmin x afab!Reader

✧ Genre - Smut - Soft dom!Seungmin ✧ WC - 1k

✧ Content warning - Oral sex (m rec.), Light breath play, slapping? (softly and for like a second), Mentions of punishments - in a brat tamer kinda way cause reader is kinda brat - He's mean in a nice way. [ MDNI ] ✧ Masterlist ✧

You were used to his punishments. 

You've developed a certain love for them. Each and every one was meant to target a specific desire of yours while teaching you whatever lesson he saw suitable. They were tailored to you. 

The events that lead up to this particular punishment are hazy to you. It was a rough day and Seungmin knew that but somewhere in his attempt to better the damage you took some blind shots at him. 

Needless to say, he wasn't having it. 

“This could've gone differently.” He sighs, hand resting on top of your head with his fingers splayed and digging into your messy locks. “But maybe this is what you were hoping for. Is it? This what you wanted?

You blink up at him, your eyes watering as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat again and again. 

“Ah, right, your mouth is full.” His fingers curl into a fist in your hair, pulling you up and off of him. A string of spit connects you to his leaky length and you take a deep inhale. 

His other hand comes down to caress your cheek, his thumb dips down to wipe a bit of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Answer me, c'mon.”

You take another deep breath. “I didn't aim for this.” He tsks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Your behavior says otherwise.” His voice is smooth, gentle, but it has that teasing edge that you're used to. You've come to love it, so much so that you find yourself wondering if you really didn't mean to end up on your knees in front of him this evening. Maybe this is what you had hoped for afterall. Either way, you’re not complaining about the turn out.

“My behavior is just fine.” You retort, averting your gaze from his sharp one. He smiles, something that anyone else would find charming but you know better than that. 

“Every time you've opened this pretty mouth today…” His hand moves over your cheek, down to your chin and roughly turns your head so that your eyes are back on his. His demeanor is a stark contrast to his actions. “...you've found a way to piss me off.” 

You'd be lying if you said you weren't dripping for him. If you weren't already on your knees you'd drop to them right now. No questions asked. 

“I think that I deserve a little quiet time, don't you think so, baby?” His hand is in your hair again, guiding you to his cock and stuffing your mouth full. “Can you shut up for a bit? Hm?” He sucks in a sharp breath, watching as he disappears into your mouth. 

“I was just trying to help you, ya know? Trying to make my baby feel better. Then I get the brunt of your attitude. That's not very fair.” He controls your head, maneuvering you up and down his length with a fist full of your hair. 

Spit drools from the corners of your mouth, your eyes sparkle up at him and you're soaked. 

The sounds that Seungmin makes are subtle. Low moans and grunts, heavy sighs and faint whines. “Tap my thigh if you need a break, yeah?” He pushes your head down to the hilt of his cock until your nose brushes up against him. Your eyes water as you gag around him and he moans louder. 

“You keep on wasting your breath, gotta teach you how to save it.” He collects your hair in a messy ponytail and grips it tight when he pulls you up off of him. 

“Is that what you need? Need me to teach you?” You gasp, panting lightly. “Answer me.” Your lips are messy, swollen from the stretch of him but somehow you still get them to move in your favor. 

“Yeah.” You breathe and he grins at you.

“Yeah?” He repeats, teasing you.

“My baby just needs to be choked with my cock to learn how to behave, that's it?” You nod, mumbling another ‘Yeah’ that gets cut off by the tip of his dick being slapped against your lips. 

“Save your breath, baby. Take it.” He slides back into your mouth, pushing you down slowly until he hits the back of your throat. He groans, throwing his head back for just a second before looking back to admire the way you take him.

“That's it, baby. So pretty when you choke on me like that.” He coos, brushing your hair out of your face. “Look at me.”

You blink up at him and his exhale stutters slightly. “That attitude has been adjusted, huh?” He pulls you back up and you gasp, coughing a bit.

“Need a second?” You nod and he lets his fist fall from your hair. His hand caresses your cheek again and he watches as you catch your breath. 

“Think you've learned your lesson?” Any sane person would probably say yes. They'd say what they'd have to to get the punishment to end, maybe you're insane. 

“No.” You press your thighs together when he looks at you because he's looking at you like that. Sharp eyes and flushed cheeks, lips pink and dying to be kissed. “I think I still need a lesson… or two.”

Seungmin looks down at you with a menacing smile spreading across those very kissable lips. “You are insatiable in every aspect of life.” His hand travels down the side of your neck, soft and careful. His fingers wrap around your throat, pressing at the sides just enough for your breath to catch in your chest. 

You keen and he could crumble right there. “Not to mention infuriating.” He smiles wider, pulling you closer as he leans over to get in your face. “You like having me control when you breathe, baby? You like being punished like this?”

He knows the answer to that already but he wants to hear you say it. He lets up on his squeezing and you huff for air. “Yes.” You pant. 

He kisses your forehead,“That's my girl.” His free hand takes its place in your hair, fisting the strands and pulling you back onto his cock. 

“Keep it up and I might help you with that mess between your legs, alright?” He guides you down and you share a moan. When he hits the back of your throat he pinches your nose.

“Let's get you started with another lesson, yeah?”

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