#ignore my word splurge

[fuckinmemesman]

have no fear, I came back with a positive post to make up for yesterday's complaining!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

Taglist: @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @andiebeaword @boldlyvoid

(I know several people asked to be tagged, but if you didn't have that you were above 18 in your blog you won't be tagged in this one!

Please reblog, comment, and like! Feedback and encouragement and interactions are wonderful to receive. Thank you!

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: college kicks ass, but I kick harder! a lil shorty smut for y'all 💗 happy holidays loves! felt cute, might delete later 🙈

Bunny & Her Man. | Aaron Pierre.

Gentleman!Terry Richmond x Black! Female Reader.

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( oral sex (f receiving) fingering, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint. Reader referred to affectionately as Bunny.

Summary: in which Terry is head over hills for his girl, and shows it.

it's a new day,

no time to play, we're in love.

Bunny loved her man, and the best part about it was, her man loved her even more.

Terry literally adored Bunny, anything she wanted she got, he definitely made it his mission to be the sole provider in their relationship. He took immense pride in Bunny's degrees, her smarts matching how extremely stunning she was on the outside. And for as long as she managed to take care of herself before he came along, putting her degrees to good use—he halted that when he arrived, letting her know that if he allowed her to still provide for herself, he was no use to her around. So she let him. And she loved it.

Bunny loved how much her man splurged on her, she'd become a bit of brat by now. Receiving huge bouquets of her favorite yellow roses every Sunday, date nights were a frequent for the duo, and she was no stranger to designer bags and shoes. Whatever tickled her fancy.

So that's why when she texted Terry the day prior, that she was oh so tired of fucking him in the states, he replied twenty minutes later with a screenshot of a red eye flight to Grace Bay scheduled the next morning.

And he wasted no time in rectifying her complaint, not even allowing her the time to be rightfully jet-lagged after the flight, the second they entered their hotel room Terry was feral.

Bunny huffed, her thighs pushed rigidly against her chest, Terry's big hands squeezing and kneading the meaty flesh there as his lips sucked on her overly sensitive clit— the sucks, loud, lewd and sloppy. His stormy eyes trained on her facial expressions for his own validation, only feeling satisfied when he seen her big brown eyes roll into the back of her head for the third time that afternoon.

"Ssshitttt!" Bunny whimpered, her eyes low and dazed as she looked down at her man in between her legs, his tongue making dizzying, swirling circles around her clit, her body slightly jerking and trembling. "I'm bout to cum again, baby!"

"Mm-mm," Terry hummed in disapproval, lips suctioning around her clit briefly before pulling back with a loud pop. His pointer and middle finger replacing his soft lips, as his calloused fingers rubbed slow, agonizing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching her arousal leak out of her earnestly before averting his sole attention on Bunny's pretty face. "You asked daddy to cum, or you thinkin' for yourself again? Hm?" He muttered, voice dangerously low.

"What I tell you bout thinkin' when I'm fuckin' you?" He hummed, using the dripping arousal to slowly slip his two fingers inside of her sopping pussy, gummy, wet walls squeezing around his fingers as a choked out gasp slipped past her already parted lips.

Her body was on fire, and Terry's voice was not helping. Everything felt too tight, or too good, or too sensitive. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her heavy, labored breathing. "Not thinkin' daddy," she slurred through a moan, vision blurring as he continued to pump his curled digits into her, hitting that sweet spot he knew so well inside of her. Her own hips absentmindedly bucking themselves unto his fingers, matching his quick hard thrusts. "Need to cum for you so bad, daddy, please!" She squeaked out, voice so small beneath the squishy sounds of her pussy being dug out on his fingers.

"Look at you, fuckin' yourself on my fingers," Terry tsk'd ignoring her plea to cum as he kept driving his fingers in and out of her, denying her the pleasure of cumming, but still wanting to make her, "pussy gushin' and talkin' all on my fuckin' fingers. Shit so fuckin sexy."

"Oh my god," Bunny huffed through a drawn out moan, her pussy clenching around his fingers at his lewd words, legs trembling beneath his hold, her own hands letting go of the vice grip she held on the hotel sheets, flinging them to his impending wrist, she didn't know how much longer she could continue holding on.

"Feel that pussy clenchin', you gon cum on daddy fingers without his permission?" He asked tauntingly, still giving her no leads on an answer yet. "You better not fuckin' cum, bitch. Hold that shit," he firmly stated, his eyes never leaving her face as he watched her lips fall into that familiar frown, her eyes rolling back once again, and her body going limp. "Hold that shit," he reiterated more firmly, slipping his fingers out of her and landing one single slap against her messy, sloppied pussy.

And that one slap relieved the heavy pressure in her stomach. Bunny squealed as her juices spurted out of her, soaking her thighs, and the sheets under ass.

Terry tsk'd, a surge of pride surging through him at how good he could make Bunny feel. What he could do to her just with his mouth and fingers. So Bunny got whatever she wanted from him, and he got whatever he wanted from Bunny. Even exchange.

"And just when I was about fuck you so good," he taunted leaning down to softly peck Bunny on the lips, her lazy whine a reply of protest, "couldn't hold it no more mama?"

Bunny shook her head slowly, jerking once more when she felt Terry's fingers softly skating up and down her sensitive, heated core. "That's too bad baby, cause now we gotta start all over. Daddy gotta make sure you understand the rules." He stated smugly, free hand slapping against her cheek firmly.

hope you enjoyed bunny 🙈. next fic will have a tag list & my masterlist is in the making!

[astrolynnworld]

no space

pairing: chris x reader

summary: you’re lapped up on chris in a crowded car and he starts to lose control of himself

warnings: smut! intoxicated, sneaky, dry humping, teasing, hold the moan, dirty talk, clit play, nipple play, cum in pants.

a/n- the request was dry humping but i added plot ofc. and i LOVE it

word count: 876

since matt was the designated driver, he often had to take a lot of people home.

so it didnt come as a surprise to me when i had to lap up onto chris so we could all fit in the car

but, this wasn’t a big car at all. neither was it a tall car, i had to shrink down into chris so my head wouldn’t be hitting the roof of the car

this induced me into putting all my weight onto chris. i couldn’t carry myself lighter to avoid any irritations

not to mention that my initial body placement was seated on his crotch area.

i was gonna sit on his knee..

but i had to move over to close the door and didn’t want to create another commotion by getting back up to sit on his knee

so i just sit there.. on his crotch, trying to keep still to not splurge a reaction

even though i was turned on by the idea of trying to keep quiet in a car full of people as he grinds into me

the car ride was mostly silent as everyone was too drunk and dazed to really carry out a conversation

i daze off out the window as while chris rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes to relax his mind

The roads in our town are very old so there tends to be a lot of speed bumps, potholes, and rough grounds.

i never really was struck by them until matt had driven over the first speed bump.

in response to the car going over the speed bump, my body bounces up for a split second before plopping back down

i hear chris groan as the added pressure to his area shocks him.

i try my best to ignore what just happened as i feel my face start to heat up with embarrassment

no more than a few seconds later, matt takes a sharp left turn at a yellow light

causing me to tilt over into the window, creating more motion that sparks a reaction out of chris

“sorry” matt sputters out as a response to his reckless driving

i adjust myself back upright and i continue to try to hold myself still

that is until i start to feel the imprint of chris’s bulge beneath me, lined up with my ass

i try my best to ignore this

until chris starts to place his hands on both my thighs, pulling me into him a little more

i feel start the heat between my legs as he adjusts his body to sit upright

at this point everybody in the car is all relaxed and laying on each other, fake sleeping.

chris sits up and leans into my right ear

“try not to make a sound” he whispers before playing a soft kiss on the back of my neck

he uses my thighs to slightly pull me back and forth into him without creating a scene

i start to slowly grind my hips back into him as he glides his hands from my thighs to my stomach

he bends down into my neck and starts to bite my ear to hide his pleasure

i relax my head into the crook of his neck as the friction starts to take ahold of me

i keep my pace steady so it continues reign unnoticed by the others

his hands continues to trail up from my stomach and he places them in my bra

starting to tug and play at my nipples as i continue the grinding sensation

i turn my head into his ear and softly whisper “keep playing with me.. please”

i feel his cock twitch at the innocence of my voice that was laced with seduction

he takes his right hand out my bra to slides it into my pants and underwear

where he starts the circling stimulation of my clit as i further grind into him. left hand still teasing my nipple

i bite my lip in order mask the moans that fight to come out so bad

at this point, i realize that matt could probably see us through the rear view mirror and we weren’t as slick as we thought we were being

but this doesn’t stop me from fucking into the pleasure of chris’s hand.

i start whisper into his ear again

“don’t stop chris.. i’m gonna cum if you— just. don’t. stop” i try to speak as my eyes flutter back into my head with my mouth left open, breathing heavy into his ear

he starts to softly buck up into me as he the pace of his fingers circle faster

i close my legs tightly as i feel the warmth of my body spring out an orgasm

chris’s body freezing mid thrust as gently sits himself back down and rests his head back against the seat once more

he removes his hands from my body and starts to lick the fingers that was playing with my clit

“did you just cum in your pants?” i whisper to him as i stare at his tongue that laps around his fingers

“mhm.” he nods as he clears the coat of juices

“fuck.” i say before turning forward and resting my body into his chest

———————————————————————

taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

[23victoria]

slam!

pairings: f1 grid x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cussing, sexual innuendos, manipulation ig, lying in a way, it’s a prank, fluff

authors note: first official fic since my writing slump! i hope it’s okay! and im so so sorry if it’s ass lol, also you can see where i had no inspiration vs. where i did…please ignore that 😭, any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

want to be apart of my taglist?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

Charles

The drive to the mall was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city as you and Charles made your way through the bustling streets. Charles had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on your thigh, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you.

You had planned this trip to Sephora for weeks now, eager to replenish your makeup supplies and maybe splurge on some new products. Charles had tagged along, promising to help you pick out new shades and scents, even though you knew he was more excited about the ice cream shop next door.

As you pulled into the parking lot, you felt a mischievous idea brewing in your mind. You wanted to test Charles' patience and see how he would react to a sudden, nonsensical argument. You knew it was silly, but something about the idea made you giggle internally.

Charles parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to open his door, you decided to strike.

"Why do you always do that?" you snapped, turning to him with an exaggerated huff.

Charles froze, his hand still on the door handle. "Do what?" he asked, clearly puzzled by your sudden change in tone.

"You know what you did," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Charles blinked, completely taken aback. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Y/N. Can you please explain?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Every single time we go somewhere, you always do this! It's like you don't even care!"

Charles' brow furrowed, confusion written all over his face. "What did I do? I parked the car! What's wrong with that?"

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "Just forget it, Charles. I'm going to Sephora."

Before he could respond, you slammed the car door shut with a loud bang, making sure to give it an extra push for emphasis. You could see his bewildered expression through the window as you stormed off toward the mall entrance.

Charles sat in the car for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. His initial confusion slowly turned into a mix of frustration and concern. Had he really done something to upset you? He replayed the last few minutes in his mind, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

With a deep sigh, he got out of the car and locked it, jogging slightly to catch up with you. He found you standing in front of Sephora, arms still crossed and a pout on your lips.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice a mix of irritation and worry. "Can we please talk about this?"

You turned to him, your expression softening just a fraction. "What's there to talk about, Charles? You always do this."

"Do what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "I really don't understand."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You always park too close to the other cars. It makes it hard for me to get out."

Charles' eyes widened in realization, and he let out a relieved laugh. "That's what this is about? Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about that. I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt for making him worry, but the sight of his relieved smile made it worth it. You uncrossed your arms and took a step closer to him.

"Okay, fine," you said, your voice softening. "I forgive you. But you better not do it again."

Charles reached out and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I promise, I won't," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now, let's go get your makeup."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "And ice cream?"

"And ice cream," he agreed, pulling back to look at you with a grin. "Anything for you."

"Charles," you said, lifting your head up from his chest. "I have to confess something."

Charles looked at you with curiosity. "What is it, love?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and amusement. "I wasn’t really mad at you... it was a joke. I wanted to see how you'd react."

Charles blinked in surprise, then let out a chuckle. "You little troublemaker," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"I'm sorry," you said, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I spoil you with whatever you want from the ice cream shop?"

Charles grinned, his eyes lighting up. "I think I can forgive you for that. As long as I get to pick the flavors."

"Deal," you said, smiling up at him. "And I'll throw in a foot massage later, too."

"Now you're talking," Charles said, giving you a playful squeeze. "Just don't make a habit of these fake arguments, alright?"

"I promise," you said, kissing him again. "No more fake arguments. Just lots of love and ice cream."

Charles laughed, pulling you close. "That's all I need."

Lewis

The sun was shining brightly as you and Lewis drove to your favorite ice cream shop. The plan was to enjoy a treat and then stroll through the nearby park. Lewis had been looking forward to this all week, a rare weekend off from the rigorous F1 schedule.

As you approached the shop, an idea formed in your mind. You decided to playfully test Lewis with a fake argument, curious to see his reaction.

Lewis parked the car smoothly, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for the door handle, you pounced.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lewis turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Do what, babe?"

"Every time we go somewhere, you always find a way to make it about you," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Lewis looked genuinely puzzled. "What are you talking about, Y/N? We're getting ice cream. How is this about me?"

You sighed dramatically. "You always pick the spot to park without asking me if it's okay. It's like you don't even care about my opinion."

Lewis blinked, trying to process your sudden outburst. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't realize that bothered you. I just thought it was a good spot."

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You got out of the car and slammed the door behind you, glancing back to see Lewis sitting in stunned silence. You felt a pang of guilt but continued walking toward the ice cream shop.

Lewis quickly recovered and followed you inside, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. He caught up to you as you reached the counter.

"Y/N, wait," he said softly, touching your arm. "I'm really sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to."

You turned to him, your annoyance melting away at the sight of his sincere eyes. "It's just… sometimes I feel like you don't consider my opinions."

Lewis nodded, his face serious. "I understand. I promise I'll be more mindful in the future. I never want you to feel like I don't care."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Okay, I forgive you. Now, let's get some ice cream."

Lewis grinned, pulling you into a quick hug. "Thank you. And I'll let you pick the spot next time."

As you ordered your ice cream and found a cozy spot to sit, you couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for starting the argument. But Lewis' genuine concern and quick apology made you appreciate him even more.

After a few bites of your ice cream, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lewis," you began, looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

"Yes, love?" he replied, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"I have a confession to make," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "That argument just now… it was a joke. I was bored and I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Lewis stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. "You really had me there, Y/N! I was so worried I did something wrong."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I get you that perfume you wanted from Dior?”

Lewis' eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. "You don't have to spoil me, love. But I'll take you up on that offer. And maybe a massage later?"

"Absolutely," you said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything for you."

Max

The drive to the mall was filled with excitement. Max had promised to help you pick out a new pair of sneakers, and you were looking forward to spending the day together. As you approached the mall, you decided to prank Max. Max parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. As he reached for his phone to check the time, you decided to that’s was your “issue”.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Max looked up at you, clearly puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always check your phone right when we arrive somewhere," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you're more interested in your phone than spending time with me."

Max blinked, taken aback. "I was just checking the time, Y/N. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It feels like you're always distracted," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like I have to compete for your attention."

Max's expression softened with concern. "I'm sorry if it feels that way. I promise I'm here with you, 100%. I just wanted to make sure we weren't late."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the mall entrance, leaving Max sitting there, clearly confused and worried. You glanced back to see him frowning, running a hand through his hair.

Max quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like I'm not your priority."

Max sighed deeply, his eyes full of regret. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure to put my phone away and focus on us. I never want you to feel like you're second to anything."

You felt a wave of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Max nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go find those sneakers."

As you both wandered through the mall, Max was extra attentive, making sure to engage in conversation and keep his phone tucked away. You started to feel bad for starting the fake argument but were also touched by his efforts.

As soon as you neared the sneaker store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Max," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I was just messing with you earlier, I was never mad at you for checking your phone. I just wanted to prank you and see how you'd react."

Max stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. "I was so worried I did something to upset you. You really had me there, baby."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you anything you want from the next store?"

Max's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll bake you your favorite cookies later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything to make it up to you."

Max grinned, pulling you into a hug. "Sounds like a perfect evening to me baby."

Lando

The drive to the electronics store was filled with excitement. Lando had been talking about getting a pc setup and you were looking forward to helping him pick one out. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Lando.

Lando parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to step out, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lando turned to you, genuinely confused. "Do what?"

"You always take forever to decide on things," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you can't make up your mind about anything."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just like to weigh my options. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're wasting time," you said, pretending to be annoyed. "Like you don't care about getting things done quickly."

Lando's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "I'm sorry if it bothers you. I just want to make sure we make the right choice."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the store, leaving Lando sitting there, clearly puzzled and a bit hurt. You glanced back to see him frowning, trying to figure out what just happened.

Lando quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait, what are you so mad? I don’t understand. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like you can't make a decision."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize it was an issue. I'll try to be quicker next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Lando nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go."

As you both wandered through the store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lando," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I’m not mad that you take time to weigh out your options. It’s one of the things I love about you! I was just bored and decided to play a prank on you."

Lando stared at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Y/N….you had me so worried. I was like “What the fuck?! Why is she mad?!’ I was so worried I did something to upset you, I was about to take you to Marc Jacobs to get you that purse and perfume you wanted."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you with anything you want from a store of your choosing?"

Lando's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll give you a special massage later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly on his neck.

Lando grinned, pulling you into a hug. "How about we go home now for that massage hmm."

"Nope, we have to get our things first! And then we can go home." you said, smiling at him and winking.

Carlos

The drive to the new restaurant you both had been eager to try was filled with excitement. Carlos had been talking about the place for weeks, and you were looking forward to a nice dinner together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test Carlos's patience with a fake argument.

Carlos parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his wallet, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Carlos turned to you, genuinely puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always insist on paying for everything," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you don't think I can take care of myself."

Carlos blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just want to treat you. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're undermining my independence," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like you don't think I can contribute."

Carlos's expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. "Y/N, this is ridiculous. I'm just trying to help."

You opened your mouth to continue, but Carlos cut you off. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

"I don't want to hear that nonsense," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I pay for everything and will always pay for everything. You're my girl, and I love to spoil you and buy you whatever you want. Complain all you want, but nothing is changing. Anything that has a price on it, I buy it. Not you. End of discussion."

Before you could respond, Carlos pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

You were still silent as you walked towards the restaurant, your mind racing from the intensity of the moment. Finally, you found your voice. "That was hot... really, really hot…and sexy. I think…I wet myself a little bit."

Carlos laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Good to know," he whispered in your ear, his hand giving your ass a playful slap. "Just wait until later, baby. I'll show you more of what you like."

Oscar

The drive to the new amusement park was filled with excitement. Oscar had been talking about going on the latest roller coasters for weeks, and you were looking forward to a fun-filled day together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Oscar to see how he would react.

Oscar parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his backpack, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Oscar looked up at you, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“You always decide which rides we go on first,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can pick something fun.”

Oscar blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just thought you liked the same rides as me. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my choices,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my voice doesn't matter.”

Oscar’s expression shifted from confusion to concern. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring your feelings baby.”

“Well, it does,” you said, opening your door. “Maybe you should think about that.”

Oscar quickly got out of the car and came around to your side, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. “Y/N, wait. I really didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk about this?”

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face but starting to feel bad about the prank. “Oscar, it’s just frustrating when it feels like you don’t consider my choices.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I had no idea you felt this way. From now on, we’ll make all the decisions together. I promise.”

You couldn’t keep up the act any longer and burst into laughter. “Oscar, I’m so sorry baby. It was just a prank. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

Oscar stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. “You really had me there, Y/N. I was so scared that I really messed up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to hold his hand. “I didn’t mean to mess with your feelings. I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

Oscar grinned, pulling you into a hug. “Well, you got me good. But next time, maybe pick a less heart-stopping prank, okay?”

You laughed, feeling relieved that he wasn’t mad. “Deal. Now, let’s go enjoy the carnival?”

Oscar nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Absolutely. And you can choose the first ride.”

“We are definitely doing the Kingda Ka roller coaster first.” you said with a smile on your face.

As you walked towards the entrance of the amusement park, you knew the day was going to be filled with laughter, thrills, and unforgettable moments.

Sebastian

The drive to the new bookstore was filled with excitement. Sebastian had been talking about a new release he was eager to get his hands on, and you were looking forward to spending some quiet time browsing the shelves together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Seb parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his reusable shopping bag, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Seb looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always insist on carrying everything,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I’m strong enough to help.”

Seb blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make it easier for you. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t think I can handle it,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like you don’t trust me to carry my weight.”

Seb’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to help.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Seb interrupted you. “Enough, baby. Arguing about this is pointless. I’m going to carry the bags because I want to. And I like taking care of you. Deal with it.”

Before you could respond, Sebastian grabbed your hair gently but firmly and pulled you into a rough kiss. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that made your heart race. When he finally pulled back, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of authority and affection.

“Understand?” he asked softly.

You nodded, still a bit breathless. “Yes, sir.”

Sebastian smiled and released his hold on your hair, his eyes softening. “Good. Now, let’s go find that book.”

Jenson

The drive to the local farmer’s market was filled with anticipation. Jenson had been excited to pick out fresh ingredients for dinner, and you were looking forward to spending a relaxing afternoon together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Jenson parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his shopping list, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Jenson looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always decide what we’re having for dinner and pick out all the ingredients,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can handle it or make a decision.”

Jenson blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make sure we have a great meal. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my cooking skills,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my preferences don’t matter.”

Jenson’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to make sure tonight’s meal is special.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Jenson interrupted you. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

“I don’t want to hear that nonsense,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I pick the ingredients and plan the meals because I enjoy doing it for us. Plus, this argument is stupid because you cooked dinner for us two days ago.”

Before you could respond, Jenson pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

As you walked toward the market, you found your voice. “I didn’t expect that reaction. It lowkey turned me on.”

Jenson turned to you with a smirk on his face, “Lowkey?”

“Okay, yes that definitely turned me on.” you said, turning away shyly.

Jenson chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I guess I really know how to handle you then.”

You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “It was just a prank, but if that’s how you’re going to react, I definitely have to pull some more.”

Jenson laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, you don’t need to, baby. You get me like this just by being yourself.”

You grinned, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Are you sure we need to cook dinner? I’m sure we can just go home now and do something very, very important first. We can order some takeout after.”

Jenson smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. “As much as I would love that, we are cooking this meal. But after we’re done, we will definitely do that something.”

He winked at you, making your heart race with anticipation.

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[nappingmoon]

quick lil fluffy blurb about toji <33

thinking about married, domestic life with toji and you come home from coffee with your girlfriends to an empty house. you call out for him and hear a little "outside" ring in through the open window. its a beautiful late spring day as you walk onto your porch outside and see your husband, shirtless, hunched over what looks to be half of a cabinet, wooden planks and screws. you approach taking in the way the muscles in his back work in tandem with each other as he works to sand some of the edges of the wood. a bit of sweat drips down by his brow, the exertion taking its toll even as a light breeze whisks through the air. it catches in your dress, the soft fabric fluttering around your legs as you come to stand behind him.

"what are you making, toji? it's been a while since you've pulled out your woodworking stuff, did you find a new project?" you ask trying to peek at all of the pieces he has.

"saw ya geekin out over a cabinet on your pinterest board. figured it wasn't too hard ta make from scratch, no big deal or nothing. how was lunch with the girls?"

"what cab-" you start, but think back to the little board you had dedicated to pieces you wanted to decorate your home with. most of them were just fragments of a dream cottage you'd conjured in your head but recently, you couldn't stop thinking about maybe splurging on a gorgeous piece to give you a little more storage and a space to show off the books you had bought recently and the little clay statue your toddler made you in his art class. "shut up you are not making the white cabinet oh my god!" your voices rises nearly two octaves in excitement and disbelief. "how did you even see that! when did you get a pinterest account?"

"you made me get one so i could see the board you dedicated to us, princess. i hop on it every couple'a months ta see what you're thinking about. saw this thing ya keep adding to your collections and had some pieces left over after the swing chair. jus' bought a few more boards n' hinges. wanted to wait for you before getting paint in case you wanted a different color." you truly could burst from all of the love you had inside of you for this man. he wasn't always the best with words, but actions like these made reminded you every day why you said yes all those years ago.

left speechless, you simply lean over his back and throw your arms around his neck, pressing a big fat kiss to his cheek, hoping he feels the love radiate from you to him. "hey, get off, doll. m' all sweaty!" he says, bringing a hand to your shoulder and lightly pushing. you ignore his protest and tighten your arms before laying a small assault of kisses all over the side of his face. when you're satisfied, you pull back, seeing a small hint of fading red kiss marks left from your lip stick.

"thank you, toji. so much. can i help you with anything?" you ask, giddy.

"'ve got things covered here, doll. 'm a little thirsty though, would ya mind getting me a water or something?" he replies, and you twirl immediately, eager to fix him up a cold lemonade and some fruit. before you can get a step away and tell him 'of course,' his hand reaches up and grabs yours, tugging you back. you nearly fall but he's got you with a steady hand at the small of your back. he leans over and steals a kiss from your stunned form. "that's better. thanks babe." he says as he releases you, leaving a light pat on your butt before he crouches back down over the planks he still needed to sand.

what a gorgeous day.

[kisses4kaia]

i think…i think about art fucking me…but then patrick fucking art…sandwhich style…yk?

get out of my head anon.

it would be art’s idea, 100%. he’d be fucking you so stupid while patrick had you suck on his cock, getting it nice and messy and wet for him. the thought came to art as he watched patrick tap his cock against your pouted lips, mesmerized by the glossy coat of saliva dripping from the entire length.

“pat—pat,” art slowed down the movements of his cock into you, completely ignoring the whine and squirming of your hips and the begs to ‘keep going!. “what’s up, man?” patrick says, a little breathless but flushed in the cheeks, lips, and chest, turning him godlike in any mortal’s eyes.

“i want you to fuck me.” the blonde was blunt, unwavering as he stared stone into his best friends eyes. patrick doesn’t trust his own words after feeling his cock twitch against your face at the ask, so instead he just nods. slowly. “like—like at the same time?” he clarifies, hand moving down to massage at the fat of your tits, less in hopes to please you and more trying to keep himself grounded. “mhm.” art nods once, eyes fiery as though they were offering a challenge.

patrick cursed at his friend with a smile. his attention is drawn down on you as he placed a little peck to your lips, a promise to return, all before his weight is lost at the head of the bed. very soon, however, you feel it redistributed behind art, gentle kisses pressed onto his shoulder blade as patrick pumped two saliva-lubed fingers into his friends taut asshole.

gently, he eased the blond’s hips back into yours and encouraged the pistoning of his mean cock into your pussy through the push of his digits in and out of art’s ass. “so pretty,” patrick cooed at both of you into his best friend’s ear, forcing him to whine and nod as his eyes, glued onto the mesmerizing giggle of your tits through every pump, fluttered shut in pleasure. he found himself very close very quickly, warning patrick through breathy huffs and curses. “fuck, pat, i’m gonna—“ his sentence trailed off as all he could do was whine when patrick’s fingers found themselves missing from his hole, which now pulsed and breathed with want.

“i’ll take care of you, baby, don’t you worry. hey, dont stop fucking her, understand?” patrick placed a biting kiss onto the lobe of art’s ear which burnt bright red as he kept fucking into you with a certain and desperate rigor and adoration. it seemed art’s entire world flipped upside down as he let out the sluttiest moan probably ever conceived at the delicious stretch of patrick’s envy-inducing cock into his asshole. “god! please, fuck, i need it, need it so bad,” art begged as he pulled nearly all the way out of you and backwards onto patrick’s dick.

“i said, don’t.” thrust. “stop.” thrust. “fucking her.” thrust. patrick’s needy, incessant, sloppy, pounding into his best friend had the blond falling on top of you, sucking on your tits as the unforgiving ramming of his brunette’s hips into his did all the work for him. “that’s so good,” art whimpers at both you and patrick, practically drooling all over your chest.

cumming came fast for all three of you. you were first, and also priority for both the men. as art nipped at the fat of your areola, patrick reached around art’s body to make a mess of the arousal drowning your cunt. your orgasm came over you in twitches and tears, biting down on art’s shoulder—unintentionally triggering his own climax.

“gonna cum!” art hardly warned through the spurting of white ribbons painting your insides, washing over his body in shakes and tremors. “fuck, you’re so tight,” patrick’s voice is up nearly 2 octaves, his clearest sign of being close to his peak, and art swears he can feel his cock twitch inside of him.

“please cum, pat. for me.” your eyes were round and pleading, his fucking kryptonite, and you knew it—so it was no surprise that with a whine and a curse, patrick is pulling out and splurging his load onto art’s back.

falling down next to you and easing you in between the both of them, art and patrick don’t bother cleaning up as they let their exhaustion win and pull them under, responsibility a mere, distant, irrelevant, obligation.

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[alphabetatoes]

money, money, money... (n. kento x reader)

a.n.: felt like writing sweet pining nanami so here we are

c.w.: pining, fluff, nanami is smitten

despite his tenure as a salary man and mentor at jujutsu high, kento nanami was no stranger to affluence. unlike gojo, his relationship to his wealth was much more suppressed.

yet he would never pass on the chance to splurge that wealth on the ones he’s most fond of. and when you and kento are shopping for outfits to wear a gala the higher ups are hosting, nanami seizes the opportunity.

you had tried on a few outfits but fell in love with the last one. it fit perfectly and accentuated your features like a dream.

“wow.” kento was left dumbfounded. he wished he could find the proper words to articulate just how good you looked, but he was reduced to ogling you. you couldn’t help but blush. after all, you’d never seen the stoic man waver this hard.

a sales associate walks over to check in on the two over you. “would you like me to ring up the outfit on the register?” you take a quick look at the price tag and reality comes crashing in. it was more than you could afford at the moment, so your search for an outfit would be continued.

before you’re able to respond, kento answers for you. “yeah- yes. we’ll take it.” you raise a brow at his answer for you, and he mouths a silent ‘please?’.

“it’s three months worth of my rent, kento. I couldn't ask you to do that for me.” you smile at him, earnest. but he’s too far gone to give up.

“charge the outfit to my card,” kento instructs the sales associate, ignoring your unspoken protest. he grabs a belt and hands it over as well. “this too.”

once the associate walks away, you turn back to your colleague. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“what? i needed a belt.” he smirks at you, feigning innocence. you roll your eyes, but the ever growing smile on your face betrays your faux irritation.

that’s the high he chased. the money spent was nothing compared to the splendor on your face. and it was something he’d hope to see for a long, long time.

pt. 2

[just-jordie-things]

blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed.  Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop.  There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table.  If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place.  The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces.  The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure.  The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest.  The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her.  As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her.  She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job.  She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall.  Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention.  His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise.  Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses.  Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor.  As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party.  She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?” 

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter.  The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’.  But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind.  Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face.  (y/n).  Certainly fitting.  Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers.  Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter.  “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face.  He prays it’s not  noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way.  She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly.  It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently.  “No offense though, these are gorgeous.  I have to say I really outdid myself” 

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it.  Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid.  “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret.  Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s.  “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon.  Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection.  He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before.  Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him.  The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack.  “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend.  She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see.  I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses.  Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident.  “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance.  Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more.  Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them.  “They’re going to laugh at me” 

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head.  “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet.  She’ll understand.  It’s a very kind gesture” 

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better.  Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake.  “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time” 

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment.  She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers.  She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well.  He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers.  As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,” 

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine.  The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?” 

And of course her first question is that one.  He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday” 

Which is an odd choice of lie.  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago.  But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought.  “Do you know what she likes?” 

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop.  “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit.  “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,” 

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them.  Oh, so those were orchids.  Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement.  “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?” 

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop.  He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more.  Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent.  Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it.  Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before. 

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly.  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands.  It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out.  “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first” 

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly.  (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly.  Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?” 

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands.  Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking.  Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement.  He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting.  “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand.  “I think your mother would adore these.  I certainly do” 

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids.  “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?” 

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets.  More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits.  “I don’t really know what else to give her.  But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up” 

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be.  “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift.  Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face.  “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?” 

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses.  (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.  

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears.  She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement.  He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” 

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number.  He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,” 

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.  He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before.  He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his.  His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here.  “But everyone just calls me (y/n)” 

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud.  “You can just call me Kento, then” 

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable.  He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?” 

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking.  “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed.  They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways” 

“I don’t consider that fair-” 

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding.  That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him.  It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart.  “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door.  “I’ll let you know how much she loves them” 

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window.  She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind.  The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!” 

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly.  Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it.  He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly.  “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks.  “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face.  He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions.  He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs.  “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform.  He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously.  “In a good way or a bad way?” 

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically.  “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?” 

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more.  “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours.  Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises.  Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort.  But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers.  “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-” 

“I thought you were an only child?” 

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant.  A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling.  He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is.  Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation.  “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else.  The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line.  She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  She’s amused.  And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face.  “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in” 

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease.  His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations.  Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully.  (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it.  “I did just… want to come and see you” 

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly.  “You’re my favorite customer, you know” 

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises.  “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies” 

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move.  That would be Gojo.  He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either.  That was Shoko’s move.  Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move.  Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her.  “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner”  ___

bonus: 

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store” 

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her.  “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy.  Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes.  It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert.  Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way.  The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly.  She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper.  “Just my favorite ones” 

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter.  His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them.  He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[pearlfeline]

rookie

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 900+

tw: black eye

a/n: this is short and it was in my drafts forever. and it was shorter than this before i added some stuff last night. posting it now for some validation and i want to feel better for my job interview tomorrow lol. hope its good enough.

“plwase unlokc your window!! OMW”

“I told him not to text and swing.” You mumbled to yourself.

You huffed, making your way to the window to save him the trouble and just lifted it wide open.

Peter flops in immediately, earning a yelp from you.

“Are you crazy?!” You held your hand to your chest.

“Heeeeelp.” He groans. Peter tugs at his mask, rolling his head back for you to see.

He had a black eye. “Make sure when you fall, you don’t land face first into a fire hydrant.” He tries his best to pry his swollen eye open.

“Since when do you fall?” You shake your head. Not expecting an answer, you walk off to the kitchen and open the freezer, grabbing a bag of assorted frozen fruit.

You come back to Peter flipping through channels on your TV, slumped on the bed.

“Put this on your eye.”

Peter gingerly takes the bag, holding it up to his bruise.

”Why are you getting hurt in the middle of the night?”

“Avengers make mistakes too.” He grumbled.

“Peter. It’s late.” You sighed.

“I know I know but I needed your help specifically.” He sits up mirroring the posture of someone who would hold a corporate meeting.

“Do my makeup please.”

You stare at Peter expressionless.

“Like with the skin paint thing.” He adds.

“For your black eye?”

“PLEEEAAASE! I can’t have May see me with another black eye. She said if the kids keep picking on me she’s gonna call the school.”

You roll your eyes, motioning him to follow you to your makeup drawer.

“Concealer.” You handed him the small bottle and heard him repeat after you.

“Concealer.” He nods.

“How long will this last?” He twists it open.

“Stop, you’re gonna dry it out. And not forever. So I’ll let you borrow it to reapply in the morning.”

“How do I do that?” He starts blinking rapidly the same time your finger pats into his under eye.

“No blinking! Just do what I’m doing here. See? You don’t even need a sponge sometimes.”

You try to ignore how close you were to him. Seeing Peter from this proximity was something you’d never think to do. You never noticed how many little freckles he had. They’re so faint. He had a little stubble from running around all day and chapped lips. Your eyes follow the line of his bottom lip, like a crack in the pavement. You could feel his breathing hit your hand as you pat into his skin. As you look up from his lips, you find him staring at you back.

“Done.” You reeled your hand back, clearing your throat.

Peter looks at himself through your small light up mirror. Seems simple enough.

“See? Good as new. Just a little swollen.” You comb his curl away from his forehead so he could clearly see the coverage.

“You’re the best.” He stares at his reflection in awe.

“I know.” You shrugged.

“Don’t touch it or it’ll come off.” You grab a small pouch to put the concealer in.

“Here. Don’t lose it. I splurged for this one.” You hand him the pouch and he nods profusely.

“Guarding it with my life.” He puts it in the small pocket of his backpack.

“Thank you.” He smiles.

“No problem.” You avoided his eyes, hopefully he didn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “Don’t keep May waiting.”

Peter nods, giving an awkward wave. “Right. See ya.”

Peter jumps out onto the fire escape. Quietly this time. Out of sight.

“See ya.” You said quietly to yourself.

The next morning, you woke up to a series of messages from Peter.

“she didnt suspect a thing HAHAHA” 12:32 AM

“thank u again btw” 12:33 AM

“it hurts to blink.” 12:34 AM

“ok goodnight ill let you know how it lasts thru the night.” 12:34 AM

“hi it disappeared a little bit but im gonna add some more i hope that’s ok” 9:12 AM

You bit your lip, your finger hovering over the facetime button. You click it without thinking too much of it, waiting for him to answer.

Peter comes into frame with a newly pale complexion. His entire face was covered in concealer.

“Hi.” He grins at the camera, oblivious to how ghostly he looked. This would’ve scared you if he didn’t answer the call in that ridiculous angle.

“Peter…” You sighed.

“What? Did I miss a spot?”

“…No. You can’t possibly miss any more spots I don’t think.”

Peter frowns at the camera, he thought he did well.

“Too much?” He chuckled, embarrassed.

You roll your eyes.

“This stuff covers everything. I don’t have freckles anymore.” He runs away at his cheek, showing that it wasn’t coming off.

“Did May see you yet today?” You sighed.

“No.. Should I take this off?”

Before you could answer, May quickly knocks on Peter’s door, and doesn’t wait to open the door.

“Hey, I’m thinking pizza for lunch-“

Peter turns to look at May and you could see her blurry face peek through behind Peter's shoulder on your screen. She widens her eyes and blinks a couple times.

“What… What is that?”

“Sunscreen.” Peter blurts out.

“Y/N and I are going to the beach.”

May knits her brows together, thinking if that’s really believable or not.

“There’s no beach near by.”

Peter silently stares at his aunt.

“...I’m eating this pizza with or without you .” May shrugs. “Have fun at the… beach.” She gives Peter a look and then closes the door.

Peter turns his attention back to his phone.

“The beach?” You squeaked out, attempting to stifle your laugh.

“I would hang up if I didn’t need help taking this off.” Peter says flatly.

You let out a groan. “Just get over here.”

[ordowrites]

Yandere! Diluc being reader's secret admirer. Sending them lots incredibly expensive gifts, silently hoping that they'll eventually realize that he's the one who's been sending them. How would he feel when they guess wrong?

cw: yandere, unhealthy relationships, obsessive and possessive behaviors, mdni, minors do not interact, stalking, delusional behaviors, implied fantasy kidnapping. the writer does not condone anything that happens in this fic. mild not sfw. dark conent. gender neutral reader, but it's mentioned they wear dresses.

sorry for the wait!

He would be hurt, to say the least - but he would hide it under a facade of a forced smile and a weak, "...I see." Anonymous gifts are anonymous for a reason but he can't help but feel as if you'd stabbed him in the gut for that.

"Are you sure it was him though?" he'd ask, doing his best to remain the proud gentleman that he is - his eyes falling on your guys' topic of conversation.

"Who else would it be? They know all the things that I like. Being my closest friend and all." You answer as if it were so obvious to everyone but him. "But what's weird is that they were confused when I thanked them for that summer dress that's fashionable in Fontaine right now."

Ah yes, that dress - he hates that dress but you sighed so longingly over it that he had to splurge just a bit for you. It's too revealing for someone like you - shows too much skin, it's too low cut, it's white and you have a hydro vision.

"How odd." he mumbles as he makes your drinks.

But then he'd imagined how pretty you would look - your skin flushed a soft red from being in the sun, how the white compliments everything, how lovely you'd look in the lace. And he couldn't resist anymore when his imagination went so far as to -

He shakes his head, clearing his mind.

The problem is, he knows that if you knew it was Diluc himself buying you these presents, you would turn them down in a heartbeat. Because you don't view him that way, you two broke up four months ago and he still thinks about it.

He considers telling you, knowing full well that you won't like what he says - knowing full well that you would insist on returning each and every gift that he'd gotten you and finally cut him from your life. So, instead, he just forces a smile while his overactive imagination goes into overtime.

Maybe one day he'll be able to hand you your presents personally - and you'll give him that bright, happy smile you used to give him when he was courting you.

"Green is not a good color on you." Kaeya says from his spot at the counter. "I don't see why you can't tell them the truth."

"We broke up four months ago," he grits out. "They said they were willing to give me a chance at friendship."

"Hm. And I suppose buying them expensive things is part of that? They never struck me as greedy or materialistic." The arguments you and Diluc had about boundaries were ones to not be forgotten - if you even sighed over something, he'd buy it for you and first, it was nice and it made you happy and eventually, it started to upset you. He doesn't know why, you tried to tell him it's because he'd go overboard and something about being "controlling". Really, an ugly word to say when he was trying to help.

"They don't know it's me." He finally says.

Kaeya clicks his tongue and shakes his head. Diluc knows how he sounds, he is aware of it - but Kaeya won't interfere.

For now, Diluc has to do his best to ignore the growing agony of your rejection and quell the envy that grows inside of him - he longs to march over to your table and correct you, to pull you out of your seat and away from everyone and keep you somewhere safe and where he can spoil you properly. And when he's able to do that, you two can have a nice, long discussion on how hurt he felt and how he just wants to help you, and that he hopes you could just give him another chance.

[rebeltigera]

Absolutely obsessed with V!Wukong and Blind!Macaque.

I have questions, overall comments and some hypothesized things. (Feel free to ignore or not answer all of them, but the ADHD has kicked in and I gotta splurge because YES)

OKAY! So;

You’ve mentioned in the past that B!Macaque is terrified of Wukong because of what was done to him, PTSD is a bitch. How would V!Wukong get around this to show that, to Mac, he’s not a threat?

* My first thought was, oh! He could start leaving his things around that smell like him so Macaque gets used to his smell, but that seemed more like training a dog, so probably not. But maybe?

Would V! Wukong try and steal Macaque some new eyes that work or an elixir that could heal his sight? Is it possible for his sight to even be healed at this point? Is that something Macaque would even want?

Once some time has passed and Macaque got more comfortable with this Wukong, would Macaque show his growing trust for V!Wukong by grooming his fur? Or allowing V!Wukong to groom him?

How would they show their growing intimately outside of… well, physical affection? Would they feed one another? Pick out clothes they know the other likes? Little things unique to them.

Would V!Wukong ever tell B!Macaque about his macaque? And if he did, how long would it take him to open up? Same scenario with Macaque, how long would it take him to open up?

I like to imagine that the word “Destiny” is a forbidden word for both of them. Neither of them like hearing it. Good way to get V!Wikong to start growling.

Your B!Macaque is so beautiful, he reminds me of a delicate crystal flower, I like to imagine V!Wukong is scared to touch him for a while because he’s afraid he’ll break him further.

V!Wukong violently protecting B!Macaque is something that just makes my heart happy for some reason, and B!Macaque gently cleaning up and healing him afterwards even though V!Wukong is the last person who’d ever need healing is such a tender vision in my mind.

Okay, I believe that’s the end of my rambling. I can’t think of anything else at the moment. I hope you have a wonderful day!

THE TISM HAS TISMED AAAA LOVE IT-

IDK why y'all decided that this ship is interesting after like - one art sksksmssm

But alr

... Oh boy the first one -

To be honest? I Don't know, maybe it would be his charm, the little things he'd do , or that he'd rescue Mac from falling into his own shadows. I didn't ever thought much about it

Mac wouldn't notice him at first . His heartbeat concealed, his power too. Wukong would indeed leave little things around but not in a "find my smell comforting way" . He would do that , move cluttery n dishes to more accessible places. Mac tend to leave them in the sun (to see them through shadows) but once the sun is gone they are gone from his view cuz they don't leave shadow anymore or are concealed by it.

Mac's eyes are not able to heal anymore. However Wukong would find a way to connect in a way their eyes. It wouldn't be permanent thing , just sometimes. See what I see kind of thing

Mac might not want but would need it. Because the last thing he saw was Wukong striking him . And it stuck like super glue.

Wukong might be the one to get a grooming session first. He'd be so confused and scared in a way . Like- he wouldn't expect that and sit obediently like a puppet till Mac would be done . Wukong wouldn't get to touch his fur tho.

Casual Physical affection would be everything to them . Because they both would be reluctant to it at the start .

Wukong wanting to touch but never doing so , Mac starved for it but never asking for it .

So their trust would be shown by it fully .

One thing that I can think of rn is that wuk would wake him up by gentle touches. He relies mostly on his hearing nowadays so it would be nice n comforting.

Whisper when he'd get a feeling Mac would get overwhelmed.

Outside of it , cooking , clothing etc etc - yeah it would happen

About telling him about his task- he wouldn't. Coming to that universe his memories become no more than flashes of the past. He doesn't even know what he searched so long for . He still get flashes of past Mihou and it brings him pang of pain but it'll pass.

For Mac to open up- months? Maybe years . Once he'd realize that V!Wuk is not a threat It would be easier. Wukong got nothing to hide from him so he'd be open like a book.

Mac speaking of destiny

Wukong growling it's bullshit, while hugging him closer

He'd get some pats.

The other moments he might growl more would be in safe heaven called nest, but it's story for a different acc sksksks

Wukong indeed would be scared to hurt him. Those bloodied hands are the one that destroy everything. He wouldn't dare to taint Mac with em. He would have moments when he'd think if he held him too strong he might crush him . Just like that.

The last thing might've happen , but wukong would rather want to keep to himself if he'd ever got hurt or dirty with blood . Mac is too pure.

[cottonlemonade]

Hello! I come once again to nourish myself with beautiful stories. Could I get a small peach lemonade with coconut water for Tendou Satori?

Stranded

word count: 591 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

request: fluffy, you missed the last ferry with husband Tendou

“Huh.“, Satori said, “To be fair, it could be worse.“

“Do tell. How?“

You heard him take a breath as if to start his reply when thick, heavy raindrops hit your skin. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Nevermind.“

You snorted and squeezed his hand.

The ferry (you were supposed to be on) moved steadily toward the horizon on the calm gray sea. Wistfully following it with your eyes you thought of the missed dinner reservation and honeymoon suite you splurged on for your wedding anniversary.

“Let‘s go find a hotel room for the night.“, you suggested and smiled, when he took off his backpack and held it above your head for a little shelter.

“A hotel room?“, he gasped, “What if we get there and they tell us there is only one room left available and that room only has one bed and when we share, you may get all cozy and your hand will accidentally graze my-“

“What‘s your point?“

“Roleplay. I thought that was obvious.“, he blinked.

“We’d like your freest room, please.” Satori leaned on the reception desk, dripping with charm and rain.

The young man behind the counter did a double take, then nodded, “Certainly, sir. Would you like an ocean view?”

The three of you turned to look at the tsunami-esque downpour drumming against the glass front of the hotel.

“Sure, why not?”, Satori shrugged and dug his wallet out of his pocket, ignoring the thin stream of water running from one corner.

“Do you guys offer room service? We’re not really fit for the restaurant.”, you asked, pointing unnecessarily to how your husband’s shirt clung to his lean frame, and your jeans that sat like a second skin on your generous hips.

“Unfortunately, we do not, but we have a gift shop if you’d like some dry clothing, Miss.”

“Missus.”, Satori interjected, “Took me a long time to get her. Don’t go undermining my hard work now.”

“O-okay uhm, Mrs…”, the receptionist quickly checked the name on the card, “Ushijima.”

“No no. That’s our friend’s card. We’re just borrowing it.”, Satori explained casually.

The young man behind the desk looked down at the black card, then back up at the red-head.

“With permission.”, your husband added slowly.

After a few moments in which the receptionist obviously mentally went through every single training scenario he was ever taught, he typed up the information and gave the credit card back to Satori, as well as a keycard to you.

Hand in hand you waddled through the lobby until you eventually found the gift shop close to the hotel’s restaurant.

“Why did you get a bucket hat?”, you chuckled when, 15 minutes later, you revealed your new outfits to each other by the dressing rooms - it had taken a long discussion with several promises of later affection before Satori accepted that he should use a second changing room instead of coming into yours.

“To complete the ensemble, duh.”, he remarked, pulling the hat with the ridiculous, multicolored octopus print a little further to the left, “Once you live in Paris you learn a thing or two about accessorizing.”

“Uh huh. So that means you’re not gonna stop me from getting the flamingo floaties?”

“No, why? You look delectable in everything, my little praline.” He leaned down to give you an almost inappropriately deep kiss, his long fingers digging gently into your squishy curves.

“Happy anniversary, my love.”, you said quietly when he (reluctantly) broke the kiss.

“Happy anniversary of me becoming the happiest man on this planet.”

a/n: I cannot even exaggerate how much I adore this idiot. I hope you liked it, thank you so much for the request and your kindness! 🌟

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 12: Hands Under the Table (Public)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Sniper have some fun in a conveniently isolated area of a bar

Tags: Public, dirty talk, fingering, denial, dom/sub, bars, beer (no intoxication), volume control

Word Count: 2.2k

The Masterlist

You gripped a bottle of beer in your hand, letting the condensation soak your palm. Cracking open the cap, you grimaced as it bubbled and dripped down the side before taking a tentative sip. Yup, just as disgusting as the last time you had tried beer. Why you felt the need to force yourself to adapt to this taste, you would never know.

Truthfully, it was probably for the same reason you agreed to come along to this bar in the first place- comradery. You wished your team could get a bit more imaginative with their post-victory celebrations. At the very least, they could buy some drinks and keep them back at the base, where you could at least have the convenience of retiring to your room when things became overwhelming.

Scanning the bar, your eyes fell on Sniper, who had been keeping a booth to himself for most of the night. A bowl of chips in the center of the table remained untouched, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes, as if he simply wanted to fall asleep and be woken up when this was over. Sensing a possible kindred spirit, you approached him.

“I’m surprised you agreed to come,” you said, looking down at Sniper, now seeing that he was also nursing a beer. You wondered if he actually liked the stuff or if he was just faking it like you. Maybe everyone was faking it. Maybe beer was just a grand conspiracy.

Sniper scoffed. “Well, I was practically dragged out of my van to join in.” He nodded towards Scout, who was currently trying to chat up various girls on the small dance floor. It figured that the runner would be the one to pry Sniper out of his self imposed isolation. He was one of the only mercs stubborn and persistent enough to do so. You watched him strut over to the blaring jukebox, leaning against it as if it made him seem cool. You wondered how long it would take for him to put

at least five repetitions of the same Tom Jones song into that thing.

You really didn’t want to be negative. It was a nice bar, nicer than the kind you would usually go to. There was even a small stage for live music, although it was currently empty. After such a long streak of wins, the team had decided to splurge a bit. Yet, you ultimately couldn’t seem to get into the spirit of things.

“I take it you’re having about as much fun as I am?” you asked, your voice oozing sarcasm.

Honestly, you did not enjoy going out. Bars of any kind tended to be loud, crowded, and chaotic. You would much rather celebrate with a night in and some greasy take out. Spy wouldn’t be having that though, with his greater than thou attitude towards American food. Although, based on the way he was sequestered in his own personal corner as well, it seemed this wasn’t very much to his taste either.

“At least most of us seem to be enjoying themselves,” you sighed. Although, as you and Sniper looked out over the crowd, it became clear that some individuals may have been enjoying themselves a bit too much.

Demoman probably wouldn’t be much of an issue. You were almost certain that he was immune to hangovers at this point. The others were another story though. You had a feeling that the few sober ones among you would have to guide them back to the base by the end of the night, and help nurse them back to health in the morning. Why the Medigun wasn’t effective on hangovers, you would never know.

You tried to match Sniper’s laid back demeanor, casually sipping your own beer. However, you couldn’t hide the cringe on your face as you swallowed it down.

“Darling,” Sniper chuckled, watching you try and fail to ignore the taste of cheap booze. “If you don’t like it, why are you drinking it?”

You shrugged, giving a defeated sigh. “I guess I thought if I got drunk enough, this night would seem more entertaining.” You swirled the contents of the beer bottle, only a third empty. “But with how long it’s been taking me to force down sips of this cheap shit, I’m probably not even buzzed.”

Sniper chuckled. You set the bottle down beside him, admitting defeat. He took a swig from it only to find that the drink had long since gone flat. “I might have a way to make the evening more enjoyable, if you’d like,” he suggested, returning to nursing his own beer.

“I’m not dancing,” you quickly said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sniper said, glancing towards the dance floor where Scout was once again trying to seduce girls with his rendition of some kind of indescribable dance- like a cross between the Charleston and a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. You were almost envious of his alcohol fueled confidence. “Just have a seat next to me, doll.”

He patted the booth beside him. You were confused, but also intrigued, sitting down and sidling up next to him with a playful smirk. He quickly reciprocated with an arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you close. You were a bit embarrassed by the school girl-like giggle that escaped you as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Sniper’s lips grazed your ear, making you shiver, only for his next words to make you freeze up. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Wh-” You couldn’t even get a full word out before Sniper’s free hand reached over, unbuttoning your fly and slipping his hand into your pants. You bit your lip to keep yourself from gasping. “Oh my God, Sniper!” you whispered harshly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked as he began to move his fingers, still over your underwear. Even so, it still sent jolts of pleasure through you that made your thighs quiver slightly. “We’ve discussed this, doll. Remember how hot it made you, the thought of me working you over with my fingers in the corner of a crowded room?”

Recalling the conversation made you blush. “Yeah, I remember,” you whispered, thinking back to the night you and Sniper had swapped fantasies over pillow talk. “I just didn’t expect it to be happening now.”

“Well, I believe a key part of that little fantasy was the element of surprise,” Sniper said. “You didn’t want to know when I might spring it on you.” He paused suddenly, his smirk wavering. “Of course, if you aren’t up for this now, we can stop-”

“No, no! I am!” You cringed, lowering your voice and glancing around to make sure no one had noticed your outburst. It appeared that the din of the crowd had effectively drowned you out. “That is, I am very much up for this.”

Sniper nodded, turning his gaze away from you. He sipped his beer, holding the bottle with his free hand while the one down your pants began to rub ever so slowly. Your face flushed scarlet and you bit your lower lip to keep any noises from escaping. Your adrenaline was running high, heightening every sensation. Even being touched through your underwear like this felt incredible.

“Please,” you stammered. “Keep going.”

“Of course, darling.”

Your underwear was pulled to the side, and you shuddered as you felt Sniper's fingers drag along your cunt, coating the digits with your arousal. It didn’t take much effort for him to work a couple fingers into you within a few minutes. You hooked a leg over his thigh, trying to spread your legs in a way that wasn’t too conspicuous. He allowed it, rubbing his free hand over your thigh for a moment. His palm was cold from the chill of the beer, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

The hum of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as Sniper began to pump his fingers faster. He kept switching it up, swapping between thrusting into you and circling your clit, keeping you on your toes, yet always bringing you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation of building, tightening pleasure was at the forefront of your mind, eclipsing everything else.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You didn’t even trust yourself to look out into the crowded bar, fearing that something in your expression would give you away. Still, you had to try to say something, to warn Sniper that you were close.

“Mundy,” you whimpered. “I’m going to-”

“Not yet.”

Your body immediately stiffened. “No, no, no! Don’t be mean, Mundy! I can’t- oh fuck!” Your plea for mercy dissolved on your lips. You kept a white knuckled grip on the table in front of you, scowling down at it like it had personally offended you. It was all you could do to keep your eyes from rolling back.

“Darling, keep it together,” Sniper whispered, although through clenched teeth, it sounded more akin to a growl. “Or else I’ll have to punish you later.”

You frowned, barely keeping the moan out of your voice as you responded with a tense and curt “Fine.”

“And I'll Ignore your attitude, just this once.”

Damn it, he always needed to have the last word. You clamped a hand over your mouth, gluing your eyes to the table. Sniper’s fingers curled inside you, stroking gently and rhythmically. It was all you could do to keep yourself from arching back against the booth.

Sniper downed the rest of his beer. Glancing down, he saw the way your thighs were trembling, even though you were seated. It was quite an alluring sight, and Sniper couldn’t help but get enraptured in it, imagining being inside you, pinning you down somewhere private, and making all those pretty sounds spill freely from your lips. He shook his head, putting those thoughts out of his mind for now, lest he be forced to hold his own hat suspiciously in front of his crotch for the rest of the night.

“You’re pulsing around my fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded, barely looking up at him, a whimper just barely escaping past your hand. “You’re about to come in front of all these people who don’t have a clue what’s going on right under their noses.” Sniper pressed his fingers firmly against your sweet spot, making you jolt.

“Mundy,” you groaned his name softly, leaning against him. To anyone who glanced over, it would look like you had just overindulged on alcohol. Your flushed face only served to sell the facade even more. It was the perfect cover, really. Still, you would rather not get caught, even though the risk thrilled you in its own unique way. “Mundy, please!”

“It’s alright, doll. You can come, as long as you think you can stay quiet.”

His permission was like a trigger being pulled. Trying not to writhe as your orgasm ripped through you was a struggle, but you managed, hunching over the table and resting your forehead on the cool hard wood. Keeping quiet was a bit more difficult, but luckily the music was loud and the bar denizens were even louder, so the few moans that escaped you went unnoticed.

You stayed with your head on the table for a while, panting, letting out a soft groan when Sniper withdrew his fingers. He was stone faced, simply looking out over the bar as if nothing had transpired. It was only when you sat up that he glanced over at you, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter. Between the ambient light of the bar and the post orgasmic haze, he looked handsome as hell. You wanted to lean up and kiss him before you could say something embarrassingly sappy.

Sniper broke the silence before you could. “I have a feeling the rest of the team isn’t going to be in any shape to walk back to base tonight.” He nodded towards the dancefloor, where you were certain at least half of your fellow mercenaries were currently making asses of themselves. However, you couldn’t be bothered to look. You didn’t want to tear your gaze away from Sniper. “How about we head back and grab my van so that they can have a ride? Hell, there might even be just enough time to give you a little reward for being such a good girl.”

An enthusiastic grin spread across your face. “I would like that,” you said, standing up quickly. A bit too quickly, apparently, as you staggered within your first step. Thankfully Sniper was at your side in an instant, linking your arms together to keep you steady. He had half a mind to scoop you up and simply carry you out of the bar.

As he guided you towards the exit on shaky legs, he caught the eyes of another patron. They were supporting the weight of their own very intoxicated partner, who was singing- or rather, shouting- the lyrics to whatever song played from the jukebox unintelligibly as they stumbled along. They gave the two of you a sympathetic look, and Sniper suppressed the smirk that threatened to creep onto his face. If only they knew.

[mrsoharaa]

cw; angst, +18 content MDNI, just here to air out some random scrumptious, heart wrenching angst to the masses (if I have to suffer so do you) :')) <'33

My heart is craving pain so, I'm literally just thinking about having a steamy, emotionless "one time fling" with Gojo in the messy vast space of your desk in your office. With you sprawled ever so deliciously amongst the smooth surface of your desk; legs wrapped around the pivoting solidity of his ravenous hips, languid moans breaking in bantered breaths and staggered gasps as you hazily gaze up at the completely focused and grunting towering sorcerer looming above you. Big, strong clammy hands gripping the curves of your burning waist, thrusting into you with sloppy, harden rigor.

Grunts out heavily as the silk of his blindfold slips pass his searing, brimming eyes gleaming over you in a hungry haste. Noting the radiant beauty that glimmered beneath him with glistening sweat and harmonic songs spilling from your plush-swollen lips.

Takes everything out of him not to cum right there and then inside of the soft, gummy walls of your sopping, inviting heat. Pants out more huskily, slurring in a disgruntled groan as he feels you convulse around his twitching length.

Hazily drops his head down as he lets the overwhelming pleasure surging through his body, consume him entirely. Ignoring the blank, disheartened stare you were giving him momentarily. Hiding back the unraveled, piled up emotions of hurt, betrayal and dishonor behind glossy, stinging irises.

You inhale a deep breath, blinking wildly as for a mere second, though you were 100 % sure that your mind was simply playing tricks on you, or more practically — the immense, traitorous euphoria splurging through you, made you see his face.

The moment Gojo lifts his fuzzy head again, a quicken flash of your mutual best friend and former lover, had blurred your vision. Replacing Gojo's illuminated, lighten features to his contrasting, lulling attributes.

With your pupils blown wide and your heart erratically thumping restlessly against your heaving chest, you can fully see Suguru's face more distinctively flushing along Gojo's. Your lips slightly part, but nothing sputters out.

Your heart feels like it was tearing into little pieces with every passing second you gawked at Gojo's contorting expression.

Left to blank stares and a frantic, crippling heart — your body instinctively flinches when you feel a soft, supple touch of a warm palm caress the tender skin of your torrid right cheek. You gasp out a low breath, blinking away the upbringing tears pouring down your plush flesh.

A supple thumb smooths along the moisten valley of your damped cheek. Consistent thrusts coming to a slow stop, peering gentle eyes of cerulean carefully studying you over.

He sees the hurt in your change of demeanor.

The way your body reacted to his sudden touch, the way your breathing was becoming more quieter and steady...the way your pretty eyes blink rapidly with thickening clumps of water, starring almost deathly into his own. So he stops. Continues to brush the pad of his thumb across the supple skin of your sodden cheek, polished lips thinning into a conflicted line. Balancing in between a content, heart catering smile to a mutually disheartening frown.

"Sa...Satoru I—" you mumble out in a low, broken whisper, trying to find the words best to deescalate your sudden outpouring of stinging tragedy and dismay. But he nods his head in understanding, pulls out of you delicately and leans forward to plant a tender kiss to your forehead. Vast, wide hands soothing up and down the sides of your trembling body, lulling you into a small tinge of comfort and ease.

"Shh shh, it's alright sweets..." he rambles calmly against your forehead, tending to you comfortingly and amiably.

Without realizing the wet familiar warmth of pooling strings of water cascading down his own cheeks.