#it’d clear up within a minute or so

[oflgtfol]

wait do you also have pots

sorry i have no idea what pots is i just had to google it and no i dont think so? it actually sounds very similar to something i used to experience in middle/high school but i havent had it happen in years and i havent been diagnosed or anything so

i’m assuming this is based off that post i just made in which case i must stress this is an anomaly which is why its so annoying and slightly alarming lol

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[nysrage]

MOVIE NIGHT, Connie Springer.

synopsis: you and connie always had an unique friendship, all touch feely with one another, but tensions rise after you two took a detour down lustrous lane.

You and your friends were always known for spontaneously coming up with a move. Basking in the time of some unplanned fun until all of you had to face the real world once you were all out of college. The group of you piled up in the dorms common area, with the projector running after feasting on wings, pizza, and alcohol. Ending the night with a horror movie that was sure to have you all watching your surroundings for the next few days.

“girl come on! the movies starting!” sasha called out to you, dimming the lights in the room while you quickly grabbed a few snacks that’ll last you throughout the film.

Entering the common space just for your spot to be taken by onyankapon. Sprawled out across the floor as if he wasn’t just pushing 6’5. “Now ony you knew that was my spot!” You whined.

Ony brushing you off with a laugh as he typed away in his phone. “shittt you decked the fuck out this cot, and workouts been beating my ass sis.”

You sucked your teeth, trying to find any spot you could until there was a light tug on your arm, turning to face your bestfriend connie. golden eyes low from the edible he indulged himself in earlier, voice all low and deep “c’mere, you know i got you..”

pulling you down to sit in just in front of him between his legs, tucked in the corner of the room. His arms circled around your middle as you shifted around till you were comfortable, resting his chin on your should just as the intro of the movie began. Affection such as this was natural between the two of you, so natural that no one would ever bat an eyelash at the two of you unless they didn’t know your dynamic.

Only it hadn’t been so natural lately, the two of you putting a slight distance in your relationship this past week. It’d all been so tense since that one night the two of you heatedly made out session in the closet at a party. Never speaking on it again. Everyone but the two of you swore there was more to your relationship than you spilled, and they were so wrong until that kiss where the both of you drunkenly revealed the love you had for one another. Causing a slight rift between you, but it was so very short lived after tonight.

Horror was the very thing you steered clear of but who were you to rain on everyones parade. Plus being in the same space as your bestfriend gave you some comfort. He always kept you safe, even if things between the two of you were a bit complicated at the moment.

Within the first fourty minutes of the movie you were practically in his lap. Shifting around quite a bit, glancing behind you at connie whose eyes were focused on the screen. You were a bit uneasy from the jump scares. Yet the thing that had you so bothered had nothing to do with the movie. Being so close to connie felt so different now, and it always left you flustered whenever you were in his presence. Plus the feeling of connie pressed so close to your ass, didn’t help to ease every disgusting thought that through your mind right now. From the way his arms and big hands wrapped around your waist. To the feeling of his body pressed so close against yours, it made you all dizzy.

Little did you know, it was the same effect for connie. You, pressing yourself further into every time you got scared. That soft ass sitting atop his pelvis all heavy and round. Your chubby waist resting in his arms as he caressed your soft, smooth, brown skin of your belly. The two of you just so hot and bothered. Pining for eachother in a suffering silence, until the two of began to break. Not able to take it anymore. Maybe it was the liquor? Shit or the weed? Hell, maybe even the good feeling the two of you gave each other last week but that sexual tension wasn’t something the two of you could fight anymore.

Connie let his hands wander mindlessly over your chubby little body, tracing over the skin of your hips and thighs. Massaging the soft flesh and dipping lower to the creases of your inner thighs. The skin all warm and smooth to the touch, as he gently explores your body. Not missing one reaction you had to his touches, big or small. Burying himself into your neck to drown himself in the seductive ass perfume you always wore, and succumbing to the urge to have that soft skin against his lips again. Placing a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder as he continued to massage the squishy cellulite in your thighs. Your body melts into his as you get all worked up, huffing out a small breathe of air. Body growing hotter by the second from these little minuscule touches.

“I missed you..” you whimper out softly, legs subconsciously spreading to give his hands more freedom to roam. Connie responding with a content hum as he placed a wet kiss against the warm skin of your neck. dipping his hands lower to ghost over the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Dick growing stiff against that soft ass pressed so hard against him. “f-fuck, i missed you too.”

“So much hermosa..”

“Yeah..?” the soft whine from your lips barely audible over the loud cries and thrilled beat of the soundtrack. Connie’s strong hand runs up your waist until meeting that perked nipple hidden by the ribbed fabric of your tank top. Giving your breast a firm squeeze as he indulged himself a deep inhale of your scent.

“Mhm, ” he breathed out, hands coming dangerously close to the mound of your pussy, “Gon’ let me show you how much..?” You breathe hitched, looking up at him through your lashes and meeting his lustrous eyes. All low and red, but those golden irises still glimmered with something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. You nod softly, tucking your bottom lip behind those pretty teeth of yours. “Please..”

Connie discreetly looked around the room, all your friends focused on the movie as the masked killer began slowly picking people off, singaling it was almost to its climax. He eased his hand lower, cupping your pussy just as he turned your face towards his to captured your lips in a slow sensual kiss. Swallowing the low moan breaking past your soft lips. Ghosting his hand over the thin fabric of your thong, already dampened with slick. Running his fingers along your clothed folds until reaching your peeking clit, pressing down on it to release some of that building pressure.

You call out to him in a low whine, “connie stop teasingg.” trying your hardest to be discreet, but that needy feeling of having him touchy how you always wanted was too strong, and you were too drunk off lust to realize the consequences.

“Eyes on the movie princesa, you don’t wanna get caught huh?” Whispering against the shell of your ear. You nod, focusing your eyes back on the film. Connie finally pulled those panties to the side to expose that sensitive skin. Fingers gliding through your folds with a low groan, spreading the pooling slick gathered around your entrance.

“What’s got this pussy all wet?” He hummed, giving your clit a soft slap. “Hm mamí? Thought you didn’t like scary movies..”

Fingers teasing slow circles around your clenching hole, so eager to be filled with his thick fingers. Coating his fingers in that clear sticky slick, just before slipping a fingertip into you barely easing that empty feeling and pulling it back out. Slowly stretching you out until he could fully sink two of them into your tight warm walls. Those thick digits slowly piston in and out of you, curling every so often as your walls gripped them in deeper. Moans growing louder as he scissored you open, “shh, gotta be quiet baby..”

“s-shit, connie I-I’m tryinggg..” biting down on your lip with a whimper, nails digging at his forearms. Body tensing at the quick movement from your bestfriend from afar, clamping down on his fingers hard. Just for her to adjust her pillow and lay back focused on the movieonce more, washing away all that fear of getting caught.

“calm down pretty girl, it’s just us.” connie cooed, placing a kiss behind your ear. Stroking your gummy walls, until faint squelching of your pussy could be heard below the loud screams of the film. That fiery pit set ablaze in your tummy as your clit throbs, grinding your hips down against his palm for any type of friction to ease the sensation. Curling his fingers into the spongey ball that made your hips buck up into his hand. “Yeah? Just like that?” He cooed, working messily on your slicked clit.

Walls swelling around his fingers, moaning out from the building pressure. Connie slipped two fingers in your mouth, pressing them down on your tongue as an attempt to keep you as quiet. “ I know, I know. You like when papí play with that pussy?” Head nodding rapidly, too afraid of what sound might break past your lips if you actually tried to speak with those thick digits pressed down on your tongue. “You so fucking good, so good pretty girl..”

Your eyes rolling back as your body shook in his hold uncontrollably, gushing out a creamy mess onto his fingers. The vibrations of your moans against his fingers had him ready to fuck you on the floor right there but it was about you. Swirling his fingers around your clit until he slowly brought you down from your orgasmic bliss. Your body limp in his hold, all fucked out and breathless.

Removing his digits and sucking off the creamy white slick with a moan, just as the movies end credits began to roll. Sasha flicking the lamp on with a quick pull at its string,your eyes squinting as they adjust to the sudden change in lighting, body still trembling slightly. Sasha looking over the room with a smile, dropping slightly when he eyes reached you. “You good girl..?”

You nod, mentally cursing yourself as you tried to sit up, cringing at the slicked feeling between your thighs. “She just shaken up, y’know how she get.” Connie snorted , taking all the attention off you.

Sasha giggles, hand on her hips as she teased you about your scary nature.

“c’mon it wasnt even that bad!”

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which your parents come to see you, and you quickly realize how many moments you’ve forgotten in not only your life, but theirs as well.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You slept for longer this time, Tyler knew that because he fell asleep after you and woke up before you did. 

It was now day three, and your parents had finally been able to sort out a way to get here. They would be driving instead of flying, so it would take them a bit longer, but at least they were on their way. 

He plugged his phone in and was just about to close his eyes again, but a soft knock sounded on the door, followed by Dr. James poking his head in. “Bad time?”

Tyler glanced over at you before shaking his head. “No, she’s just sleepin’. We talked a lot yesterday, I think it may have worn her out,”

“That’s alright,” James nodded, “It’s good that she’s responsive and awake. It’d be a different story if she were still asleep and hadn’t woken up yet.”

Tyler didn’t even think about that. You hit your head pretty hard, what if you had never woken up? He didn’t even want to picture that reality, especially since he was still trying to get used to his current one. 

“Anyway,” the doctor continued once he realized that Tyler hadn’t said anything back. “I’ll have to wake her up so I can check her stitches and replace the bandage.”

Tyler nodded, reaching over to grab and squeeze your hand, taking it upon himself to wake you up. A quiet call of your name and another squeeze of your hand did the trick, and soon enough your eyes opened. 

Dr. James quickly rounded the side of your bed, a new, clean bandage in his gloved hand. “Hi, Y/n,” he greeted with a smile, and you smiled back before looking over at Tyler. “I’m just here to change your bandage and check on your stitches, is that alright?”

You nodded slowly, still waking up as you shifted higher against the pillow. “Will it hurt?”

Tyler felt a small smile form on his face at your question, and he moved the chair closer to your bed as he laced his fingers with yours. “It shouldn’t. I’ll remove it slowly in case the stitches are stuck to the bandage,”

You bit your lip and nodded again, more hesitant this time. “It’ll be fine,” Tyler assured you, and you glanced over at him again with a nervous look on your face. “You’ll be fine, baby.” 

James slowly loosened the bandage around your head and pulled it away, and the edge of the stitches were a bit stuck to it. Your hand squeezed Tyler’s at the faint tug, but then the used fabric was successfully removed and set aside. 

This was the first time Tyler has seen your head injury since the day you got it, and it already looked a lot better. Granted, he saw it a mere few minutes after it happened, and he couldn’t see much since you were bleeding profusely, so really, what did he know?

He hadn’t realized how big it was, with one end starting in the middle of your forehead and the other going past your temple and nearly halfway on the side of your head. Your skin was bright red and irritated, and there were a few spots of blood here and there, but the stitches were looking good. 

Tyler let you hold his hand with a death grip as Dr. James gently cleaned up the skin around your stitches, then he rubbed some clear stuff over them before reapplying a new bandage. “There we go,” he commented, stepping away from you as he discarded his gloves. “That’s better. It should be time for your medication soon, too, so I’ll send Nurse Karson in within the next few minutes.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Tyler added as James left the room, then he turned back to you with a grin. “You did so well, babe. Only broke two of my fingers.”

You blushed at his tease, looking down to see just how tightly you were holding his hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, loosening your grip. “I was nervous.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, “You can squeeze my hand whenever you want.”

You smiled at him, pressing your lips together. “I’m really glad I have you here with me, Ty…” you trailed off, and Tyler felt his heart swell at the nickname you haven’t given him in three days. Before this, you always called him Ty and rarely called him Tyler, so to hear it now was nearly enough to bring a few tears to his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if I was here by myself. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tyler shook his head, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ll never be alone, baby,” he promised, “Not as long as I’m alive, you won’t.”

Your expression softened as your fingers gripped his tighter. A faint pink blush coated your face as you gave his hand a soft tug, murmuring, “C’mere…”

He stood, letting your hand pull him closer so his thighs were pressed against the side of the bed. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as you reached for his other hand and pulled him so he was leaning over, and when he was close enough, you released both his hands in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

Tyler felt himself begin to melt against you, but he still made sure he wasn’t putting too much of his weight on your body as he gently hugged you back. He buried his face against the side of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that only belonged to you. It felt like it had been weeks since he last touched you, not a mere three days, so he wasn’t holding himself back too much. 

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” you whispered, gently pressing your face against his shoulder. “God, I’d be lost without you, Tyler. Literally.”

He smiled against your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’d be lost without you,” he murmured, and he meant it with every inch of him. “The fact that you’re willin’ to stay with me even though you don’t remember what we were…Your trust in me is everythin’. You’re everythin’.”

You pull away and Tyler had to force himself to let you go, sitting next to you on the bed instead of going back to that God awful chair. “Tyler…did you and I…did we have a bonfire at some point? I don’t know if it was a dream or real, but I remember a bonfire, and you and I were really drunk and all over each other,” you hesitantly ask, playing with your fingers as you look over at him. 

Tyler’s eyes widened a bit as he thought back to a few summers ago, when he and the gang had one of the biggest chases ever and you suggested he throw a get together the next night to celebrate. 

He spent a good portion of the next morning gathering logs and branches, and he invited over a bunch of people to your house. That was the first summer you spent living in that house, and it was definitely a great way to start off that chapter of your lives. 

You were right, you and Tyler did have too much to drink and were practically the embodiment of the word ‘PDA’ as nothing was off limits. Boone teased Tyler relentlessly the next time they saw each other since Tyler couldn’t keep his hands off you that night and ended up taking you to bed before the party even ended. 

Tyler felt himself sit up straighter, “You remember that night?” He asked for clarification, and you nodded slowly. 

“I think so…we were celebrating something I think,” you trailed off then you sat up straight, too. “Wait, so that happened? That wasn’t a dream?” 

Tyler shook his head, a hopeful look on his face. “No, baby, that wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, taking your hand in his. “That was real. It happened a few years ago.”

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never breaking away from his. “What does this mean?” 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, reaching over to softly grip your chin. “But it’s a good thing. It’s a really good thing.”

Your eyes were looking a bit brighter now, and you looked more lively. It was a glimpse of who you were before the latest storm, and Tyler knew he missed that version of you, but he wasn’t aware of just how much. But he loved you before, and he loved you even more now. 

“Ty,” you start, opening your mouth to continue but before you could, the door opened and Nurse Karson walked in with a grin. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” she apologizes, making her way over to the other side of your bed. “I have your medication. How are you feeling today?”

You watched as she set the cup of pills onto the table before your eyes met Tyler’s again. “Better,”

After that, your pain medication kicked in real quick and soon enough you were sleeping again. Tyler had retreated back to the chair and had his legs propped up on your bed as he scrolled through the channels on the TV, the volume muted so he didn’t wake you up. 

But the quiet didn’t last long as the door swung open and hit the wall behind it with a soft thud, and you jolted awake as your parents came stumbling into the room. “Oh, Y/n,” your mother gasped as she ran over to you, her hand reaching out to gently caress your face. 

“We came as soon as we could, honey,” your dad said as he stood behind your mom. “How are you feeling? How’s your head?”

You were clearly still a bit shaken up at the sudden wakeup, but you relaxed once you took your mom’s hand. “I’m okay…my head is okay today,” 

“Thank God,” she let out a deep sigh, looking back up at your dad. “We were a nervous wreck, sweetheart. We couldn’t find someone to watch Louis and your fathers boss was being a real prick about the whole thing and-”

“Who’s Louis?” You asked as you looked between your parents. “Do I have a brother I forgot about?”

Your dad’s eyes widened and a strangled scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “God, no,” he grunted. “Louis is the Aussie mix you got us as a going away gift.”

“I got you a dog?” You gasped, looking over at Tyler. “We got them a dog?”

“It was your idea,” he raised his hands and sat up in the chair. 

“Where’s our dog?” You asked with a pout and Tyler laughed. 

“We don’t have one,” he answered. “Yet.”

You give him a hopeful look before your mom brings your attention back to her. “I guess that means your memory isn’t back yet?”

“No,” you quietly reply, looking down at your hands. “But I remembered something from a few years ago earlier today. It’s a good thing.” You repeated Tyler’s words, and he glanced up and shared a look with your dad.

“How are you doing, Ty?” He asked as he placed his hands on your moms shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Tyler forced out a smile, feeling his eyes burn at the sudden question being directed at him. He preferred it when the attention was solely on you, so he could suffer in silence. “I’m good,” he lied, a tight grin on his face. 

You looked over at him again and it was like you knew he was faking it, and somehow that comforted him. “Tyler’s been my rock,” you say, reaching over to take his hand in yours. “He’s been here the whole time.”

Your father locked his jaw as if he, too, was holding back his emotions. “I’m glad you have him,”

“We’re so grateful, Tyler,” your mom added, tears fully streaming down her face. “You were there for her when we couldn’t be.”

“Hey,” you sternly said, softly glaring at your parents. “Don’t say that. You couldn’t have known.”

Your mom shook her head, taking the tissue your dad held out to her with a grateful smile. Your parents reminded Tyler of you and him, and they were also high school sweethearts and still going strong. He knew that you and he could do it, too. “I know, but still. I feel terrible that we weren’t here when you needed us,”

“Mom, it’s okay,” you whisper, squeezing her hand. “Really.”

She nods, wiping at her eyes before leaning in and brushing your hair out of your face. “You just focus on getting better, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a faint kiss to the bandage on your head. “We’re here now, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” your dad agreed and you gave them both a tired smile. 

You whispered, “Thank you,” before turning to Tyler. “And you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mumbles, “You know I’m here for you. Always.”

Your dad clears his throat, wrapping his arm around your mom’s shoulders. “Get some sleep, honey,” he said, “The doctor said you need your rest to recover.”

You nodded, leaning back on the bed. “Can you find out when I’m allowed to leave? I hate being stuck in this bed. The sheets are scratchy,” 

He laughed, “I’ll see what I can find out,” 

Your mom followed after him then stopped to look at Tyler. “How’s the coffee here? Is it any good?”

Tyler gave her a regretful smile and shook his head, giving her all the information she needed. 

“Damnit,” she muttered, giving you a sheepish smile before scurrying back over to you and kissing your cheek multiple times. 

“God, mom, really?” You whined, gently pushing her away. 

“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” she scoffed, wiping at her eyes again. “You don’t know the hell your father and I went through when we found out what happened.”

Your expression softened as you bit your lip. “Sorry…”

Your mom waved you off, placing a comforting hand on Tyler’s shoulder before making her way to your dad who was still hovering by the door. “Don’t be,” she shook her head. “Are you hungry? Maybe I can find you something nice in the cafeteria.”

Tyler looked down, knowing she most likely wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing that looked nice in that cafeteria, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that. “We’ll be back, honey. And we’ll try not to scare you this time,” your dad grinned before guiding your mom out of the room so they could start on the tasks you’d given them. 

You stared at the door for a few more seconds before letting out a breath of air. “Holy shit, Ty,” you gasped in disbelief. “My dad has a full on beard now.”

Tyler laughed, realizing that you were probably so used to seeing your dad with a shaved face since he only started growing his beard two years ago. Before that, his face was hairless, and Tyler could see how odd that would be for you. “Yeah, he’s been workin’ on that for a while now,”

“He’s gotten so scruffy,” you laugh quietly, and Tyler could see your eyes start to water. “And my mom’s gotten so skinny…and I don’t remember any of it. They’ve been living their lives the last ten years and I don’t remember it.”

Tyler’s face softened and he knew that you had hidden your true feelings from your parents. “Baby,” he trailed off, not knowing what he could say to make you feel better. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better. “I know things are hard right now, but you just need to focus on gettin’ better, like your mom said. Those memories are still there, somewhere inside that gorgeous head of yours, it’ll just take time.”

He hoped, anyway. But if you truly never got back all your memories, he would be able to accept that, because at least he still had you. 

You nodded and cuddled under the scratchy sheets of the hospital bed. “I’m going to try to sleep for a little longer, okay? My head’s a mess right now. Well, more than it was before,” 

Tyler hummed in understanding, reaching over to lace his fingers with yours. 

He stayed beside you while you slept, and around fifteen minutes passed before the door opened and Dr. James walked in. “I saw that her parents are here and wanted to check on her, make sure she isn’t overworking herself,”

“No, they were easy on her,” Tyler answered and James nodded. “Hey, um…before they got here, she remembered somethin’ that happened kinda recently. A bonfire party we threw a few years ago…”

The doctor raised his brows and stepped further into the room, being careful not to make any unnecessary noise. “Well, based on her recent memory tests we did and now this, it seems like it’s improving,”

Tyler didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just shifted casually in the chair, keeping his voice low. “So she’s gettin’ her memory back? Slowly?”

“While there are signs of improvement, nothing is certain,” he explained and Tyler didn’t feel as deflated as he would’ve had he allowed his hopes to overtake the rational side of him. “Recovery isn’t always linear. There will be setbacks and periods when progress feels nonexistent. But, the fact that she remembers something from a more recent time in her life is a big step in progress.” 

“So it’s possible for her to remember our relationship? Most of it, anyway?”

“That might take a bit more time,” he answered quietly. “Memories of loved ones are deeply rooted in emotional connections. While her short-term memory is improving, moments from a few years ago or more will likely start to return. It’s an unpredictable process that can’t be rushed.”

Tyler wasn’t sure if he properly understood a single word of that, but he knew that you remembering the bonfire was a good sign, and that’s all he needed to hear. “Did her father happen to ask when she is allowed to leave?” 

James laughed quietly. “Oh, yeah. He mentioned how eager she is to get out of here, and I don’t blame her. She’ll have to stay here for another couple days,” he told Tyler. “Since we’ve concluded that her head was the only severe injury she received, and since we can’t do much about her memory loss, we can’t keep her here for much longer.”

Tyler held back a smile as he nodded, glancing over at you. “Thank you,” he whispered, his attention fully on you now since he knew he would be taking you home soon. “I’ll let her know when she wakes up.”

Dr. James nodded before leaving the room, and Tyler moved the chair closer to the bed. He couldn’t wait to go home. He hadn’t been there since your accident, and he missed the familiarity of the house he shared with you. He hoped that maybe being in a new (but technically old) environment would trigger something in your mind and it would lead to you remembering the moments you and he shared in the home. 

Ten minutes go by before your dad enters the room, a cardboard box in his hand and a timid look on his face. “She asleep?”

“Yeah,” Tyler answered and watched as your dad slowly closed the door before making his way to the other side of your bed and sitting down on the chair near the window. A smile formed on his face at the logo on the box, and he lifted a brow, “You couldn’t find anythin’ in the cafeteria?”

Your dad shook his head as he placed the takeout box on the bedside table. “No, nothing good enough for her. I just grabbed something nice from the place down the road. Doctor said it was okay,”

Tyler hummed, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while you slept, “She can go home soon, did he tell you that, too?”

“Yeah, I meant to tell her before I left, but thought you might’ve asked about it, too,” he grunted, his eyes softening as he watched Tyler sit back in the chair. “You’re part of the family, Ty, you know that. You’ve always been. I need you to know how grateful her mom and I are that you were here for her as soon as it happened. You were the one who found her and brought her in, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbled, not wanting to relive the moment he saw you with that open gash on your head. “It was me and Lilly. She kept me sane while we waited.”

Your dad gave him a tight smile. “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you, Tyler. Knowing she wasn’t alone for a single second while we weren’t here…it means the world,” 

Tyler’s eyes stung a bit as he shook his head. “No need to thank me. You know how in love I am with her. I can’t live without her,”

“You and me both,” your dad laughed, his own eyes a bit watery. “Anyway, I do have to thank you. I want you to know that we appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

“‘Course I do,” Tyler mumbled, sniffling and quietly clearing his throat as he felt himself get a bit annoyed at the fact that he didn’t have control over his emotions right now. “And you know I’ll be with her everyday once she’s back at home. We’ll take it slow.”

Your dad gave him a firm nod as your mom walked into the room, a frustrated look on her face. “How’s she doing?” she asked just as your eyes slowly opened. “Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting up against the bed. “Why do you look so pissed off? And why does dad look like he’s crying? Why are you crying?” You directed that last question to Tyler, and he quickly looked away and tried to subtly wipe at his eyes. 

“I’ve been trying to get some time off work so we can stay here with you, but now my boss is being  a prick,” your mother mumbled, “You’d think after seven years of not complaining, working overtime and going above and beyond, I’d get a little sympathy. Son of a-”

“Okay, mom,” you quickly cut her off, a laugh escaping you after. “It’s okay. You guys don’t need to risk your jobs for me. There’s not much you can do, right? My head will heal, and no one can control my memories. Please, stay as long as you can, but don’t get fired for me. Please.”

Your dad opened his mouth to protest, but sighed instead. “We’ll stay as long as we can, honey. But you know I don’t give a rat’s ass about my job, right? You’re my daughter, you come first,”

“I know, and I love you both more than words can explain, but I can’t be the reason you lose your jobs,” you murmur. “You both know there’s only so much you can do, the rest is up to me.”

Your mother nodded, her angry expression softening as she looked down at her phone. “Oh, here he is again,” she muttered. “Hang on, sweetheart. Eat some of the food we got for you, okay?” She gestured towards the takeout box before stepping out into the hall, and you looked over at the table. 

“You guys got me actual food?” You asked in disbelief as you reached for it. 

“Yeah, I promise it’s better than the shit they serve here,” your dad grunted before standing up. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Then it was just you and Tyler in the room again, and you looked over at him with a sad smile on your face. “I feel terrible for making them come all the way here,”

“Don’t worry about that, babe,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t think they’d be anywhere else right now. They love you so much. And so do I. Besides, I don’t mind sharin’ you for a bit.”

A blush takes over your face as you press your lips together. You meet his eyes and smile, and he loves you so much. Your eyes, your smile, your personality, all of it. 

“That smile,” he whispered, leaning over towards you. “I’ve missed it.”

You blush again and forget about the takeout box as you pull on his hand. “Come here…” you mumble and he stands up. “I just want to be close to you for a bit.”

Tyler sat down next to your thighs, “Is this better?”

“It’s perfect,” you grin up at him. “Are we one of those super touchy couples?”

A smirk formed on his face as Tyler settled next to you. “You mean, are we a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah. We’re definitely one of those couples.”

You smile and look down at the bed. After a few seconds, you let out a sigh. “I wanna go home,” you say quietly, looking back up at him with teary eyes. “I don’t even remember it, but I want to go there. I wanna go there with you.”

Tyler reached over and wiped your tears away, his brows furrowing in barely-concealed anguish. “You will, baby. Soon,” he promised. “Dr. James said you’ll only be in here a couple more days, then I’ll take you home and look after you myself.”

“Really? I can go home soon?” You asked, a hopeful look in your eyes as you gripped his hand tightly. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Real soon. For now, eat some dinner and let me do all the worryin’.”

You nod and smile at him, wiping away your tears before reaching for the box again, and Tyler held your hand the entire time you ate.

[chlorinecake]

sunghoon.

= 𝓙𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ── P.SH 💬

in which your long distance bf craves your contact...

pairing. ⌂ needy boyfriend sunghoon x f. reader ⌂ contains. mostly suggestive content but with tons of explicit implications, flirting, a bit of fluff, somewhat perv!hoon, long distance relationship au (sawie) ⌂ word count. 1160 🖱 ⑅ path to bookshelf ◍

❝ Incoming Call from Sunghoon ❄️ ❞

Your laptop screen read spontaneously.

Ahh, yes… the love of my life among many other luxuries, you smiled within yourself, just as you pressed the green ‘answer’ icon.

Though, it had been roughly thirty minutes since then, with the clock on your computer screen now displaying an oddly habitual series of digits...

2:57am

You and your boyfriend's conversation started off strong with wholesome pleasantries and heartwarming exchanges as usual…

But as the hour grew wearier, the topics on the table became more and more raunchy by the minute… not that you were complaining, that is…

And neither was he…

It had literally been over a week since Sunghoon last saw you in the flesh… since he last got to feel you in his arms or taste you on his tongue…

And so, FaceTiming had become a great method for you two to stay in touch on a more personal level whenever he was away for work.

Click.

You got up from your bed to make sure that your bedroom door was locked, but also to make sure that Sunghoon knew you were wearing his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants...

The one's he had sent as an “X-mas in July” gift...

“Your ass looks good in those,” he started from behind the screen, folding his toned pale arms over the pillow he laid on.

“Just wait til you see what's hiding underneath,” you returned seductively, adding the word “tomorrow” at the end to which Sunghoon sighed.

“Right, because I've already been waiting forever and a day to relieve my sexual tension this week… another day to the prison sentence wouldn’t hurt…”

“Awww,” you pouted facetiously at him, “I thought you liked it whenever I teased you.…”

“In-person, sure. That’s when I can handle it, but online? Pfft,” he says, running an impatient hand through his hair.

“Fine… let’s play a game to take your mind off of things—”

“I bet I can guess what color panties you’re wearing right now…”

“Sunghoon!?” You exclaimed with shock, making your boyfriend smirk shamelessly at your adorable reaction, “and do you expect some sort of reward if you guess correctly?”

“After three tries, yes,” he nodded, clearing his throat slightly before proceeding with his series of guesses.

“Hmm,” he began, “are they that one lacy black pair you have with the bows on the side?”

“No,” you answered while laughing, “and just guess a color, not a specific pair…”

“Alright alright… hmm,” he hummed in thought, looking above as if an answer would fall from the sky.

“White?”

“Guess again,” your voice sang playfully this time, “you have one chance left now…”

“Shit, okay… I have a suggestion then…”

“Uh oh, plot twist,” you said, making him chuckle slightly, “go on…”

“How about you just show me your panties and then I’ll tell you what color they are?”

“Gosh, you really know a way to a woman’s heart, don’t you Hoon?” You asked rhetorically, ‘tsking’ at his fraudulent suggestion.

“Of course I do… taking a guess here, but you’re supposed to start between her legs, right?”

You shook your head at your boyfriends words, letting an exaggerated sigh escape your lips… “Even if that were true, it’s not like it’d benefit you right now, anyways…”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re behind a screen,” you began matter-of-factly, “miles and miles away with only your right hand and some amateur porn to keep you company…”

“But I have you, too, princess,” he smiled, adjusting himself on the mattress so he could get closer to the camera, “unless you’re thinking about leaving me already…”

“Please, I would never,” you say in an almost offended tone, “that would be child neglect…”

“Oh, so you’re my mommy now?”

You gave him the best side-eye you could muster, making him chuckle at how you cute you looked in your oversized glasses…

“If you’re into that, sure,” you finally answered.

“Well then your baby wants to see his mommy’s tits,” he replied almost instantly, innocently nuzzling his chin into his pillow, “and without the bra this time, thanks…”

“I’m not showing your sick ass shit,” you returned while laughing, throwing up a few ‘L signs’ with your fingers as he chuckled at your rejection, showcasing his pearly fangs.

Letting himself calm down from laughing, he cleared his throat before speaking again, “My next guess is white, then…”

“But you already guessed white earlier?”

“And I’m guessing it again,” he repeated, making you quirk a suspicious brow at him.

“If you’re trying to imply that I creamed my pants, you’re wrong.”

“Oh my God, ____,” he sighs dramatically, adjusting his laying position on his bed once more, “can you just tell me that I’m right so we can fuck already?”

“Oh, so you waited all this time to tell me that sex was supposed to be the reward?!”

“Well, yea, I figured it was obvious,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Damn, Hoon… when you put it like that, it makes me think my body’s all you want…”

“You know that’s not all I want, baby,” he corrected, licking his lips while stretching out the tiredness in his back, “I just don’t like being in the position to beg for it, y’know?”

“Welcome to my world…” you said.

“Thanks for having me,” he smiled back, rubbing his eyes as a frustrated groan left his mouth.

“What’s the problem now, you big baby?”

He hid his face in his pillow before speaking, “I’m horny and youuuu are not helping…”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s attempt to fault you for his frustration, “I wouldn’t be much help to you anyways given the distance…”

He abruptly lifted his head from the pillow to flash you a dumbfounded look, “Babe… why’re you acting like e-sex doesn’t exist?”

“Because it’s literally 3 am and I trust that you can be patient til I can see you properly,” you clarified, adding yet another “tomorrow” at the end of your sentence.

And all Sunghoon could bring himself to do at this point was pout, hiding his face in the pillow once again which made you giggle at his sulking.

“Babyyyy…. C’monnn, you can wait for me, can’t you?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet tone, tilting your head at him in a cooing manner.

“I’m literally two seconds from slapping my dick against the screen because of your face right now,” he confessed shamelessly, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re so out of pocket for saying that,” you giggle, covering your face slightly to hide how flustered you appeared.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said, a giggle still present in your throat as you tried regathering your emotions.

“Continue, continue…” you whisper with a warm smile on your face now, looking like a split image of the crying emoji in this moment.

“Thank you,” he scoffed with feigned offense, “but yes… I can wait til tomorrow… just for you, angel…”

tysm for reading this quick lil fic ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆

[lotte-s-web]

Hobie who fucks you to his own songs, and sex isn’t all soft and lovely when kick-ass British-hardcore punk music plays in the background.

— SAMO 🎸🥀⁉️

samo babe youre trying to kill me this is the first thing i saw when i got home😭😭 youre so right tho i HAD to write a thing

💿✩ ❝record ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader ✩💿

₊˚⭑ warnings: penetrative sex, teasing, hobie records reader's voice, overstimulation (i think?)

God knows how long it’s been since his record started playing, but all you know is that he’s been wrecking you for more than 3 orgasms. You’re shaking, hands uselessly gripping at the sheets as if it’d tether your mind to your body, as if you could do anything against the unrelenting pace of his hips. Your cheeks are damp with overstimulated tears, your voice raspy from all the noise you’ve been making.

But noise doesn’t matter when his music is so loud, blasting from all angles of the room and drowning out even the loudest of your moans. It drowns out the loud clapping noise your bodies make as his hips meet your ass, over, and over and over again, following the ever-changing rhythm of each of his band’s songs. The combination of the aggressive music blasting in your ears and his length making space within your body making you dizzy with pleasure.

Hobie groans from behind you, his lean frame fucking into you from the back as he keeps his hand on your hips to pull you back against him with each thrust. His other hand is pushing down on your back, forcing you to arch for him, holding you down despite the way you writhe under him and making you take each thrust into you. 

His skin is covered in a light sheen of sweat, making his dark skin glisten in the dim lighting as if he was some god of the night. And with the way he was keeping you on the boundary between pain and pleasure tonight, it certainly felt like he was. 

He’s panting, groaning, and moaning above you, the rough and guttural sounds blending in with his song in a symphony that makes you clamp around him, your lust-addled mind soaking in his pleasure. His hips follow the aggressive beat of the drums, grating and angry guitar riffs pumping his veins with adrenaline and the energy to keep driving into you. His eyes zero on the way your greedy hole swallows in his cock as if it wasn’t enough, as if you hadn’t been complaining just a few minutes ago about it being too much. 

A new song plays, something even faster, even angrier. “Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts above you, stilling his pace to listen to the first few beats of this new song. The sudden stop gives you air to breathe, giving you time to gasp for air and thank whatever higher power there was for the much-needed break. Your face falls into his pillow, your body exhausted.

It’s just as sudden when he starts to move again, his hips pulling back and pushing back in, full force in one swift motion that makes you jolt, making you choke on your breath. The motion is repeated again, and again, and again in another swift rhythm that has you falling apart on his cock. It makes you whine into his pillow, trying to retreat from him in any way you could.

He clicks his tongue at that, disapproving, making his thrusts harder, making you moan louder. He removes his hand from your back to hold your cheeks in a firm grip, pulling your weakened body up flush against his chest. His mouth is right up in your ear as he continues his brutal pace, his fingers digging into the flesh on your hip and leaving purpling marks where they lay as he runs filth into your ear about how good he knows you sound. You can barely hear your own moans but his words ring loud and clear within the foggy state of pleasure he’s got you in.

“Wanna hear ya sing dove,” he groans into your ear, emphasizing each word with a thrust that hits right up against that gummy ridge that makes your eyes roll back and your mouth fall slack. He rests chin resting on the junction of your neck and shoulder, moaning into your skin as he starts to ramble in your ear. “Gonna— F–Fuck— gonna use i’ as yer audition tape, yeah? Mmmph— wanna show the band how fuckin’ pretty ya sound when y’re all fucked ou’ f’me.” 

You keen at the idea, getting his blood pumping hot through his body downwards to where he’s sheathed inside you, his grip on you tightening with every little noise that blends with his song. That’s when it hits him: an idea, a brilliant one. 

The hand on your hip moves away to scramble for something on the nightstand, your body trembling against his as he finds his tape recorder amidst the mess on the small table. He sets the device down underneath you and clicks a button, the cassette starting to roll just as he starts to move again, your whines and cries of pleasure all caught by his tape. You barely notice in your haze, too cockdrunk to even consider any resignations to the idea of you being recorded.

He hears your breath hitch at the idea of being recorded, your voice softly crying out his name in complaint. He chuckles, kisses your cheek then continues pumping up into you, murmuring into your ear, “who knows, hm? Migh’ even get ya on the next track li’ thi’.”

a/n: ik his accent here is shit guys MY BAD IM SORRY aghh its so hard to write it shfbdsh

๋࣭ ⭑ tag/s: @eyesxxyou, @s4mo-is-dead

[hairyjocktf]

As a small twenty year old in college, I just wish I could get the peace and quiet of the outdoors. Can you make me a big hairy lumberjack?

You woke up this morning to the blaring of your alarm. Monday always felt way too early. After grabbing your phone and silencing it you rolled out of bed with a resounding thud. You were so tired of the hustle and bustle of school and work and life in general, it was just never ending. With a huff you dragged yourself into the bathroom, passing your reflection in the mirror. You stopped for a second, gazing over your thin body, wishing it could be something more. There was no time to dwell on those thoughts though, and you turned on the water and hopped into the shower. Hot water cascading over you, you reached for the new body wash you’d just bought. ‘Man Wash: Cedar & Pine Scent’ it said, something the other day had compelled you to try that over the normal wash you usually got. You lathered up, the scent of trees filling the shower. There was something relaxing about that somehow, and you stood there lost in it for a moment before rinsing. It was a 3-in-1 with face wash, so you figured you might as well use it there too. That gave you a hefty dose of that cedar scent directly by your nose. 

You realized it’d already been ten minutes and hastily switched off the water, stepping out of the steamy cocoon before grabbing your towel to dry. The mirror in front of you was entirely fogged up as you slipped the towel around and around, but as it cleared something caught your eye. Holding the towel loosely around your waist you stepped closer to the glass, staring at your reflection as it became more visible. It looked like there was something dark on your face. You bent over the counter to get a closer look, staring at what looked like dirt smeared across your upper lip. You wiped the condensation off the mirror and leaned in even closer. It was hair, soft but dark hairs had suddenly sprouted across your upper lip and it looked like on your chin too. You tilted your head around to make sure but it really did seem like they’d just sprouted suddenly. Then your jaw dropped.

As you stared at your reflection you could see thick brown hairs popping out along your jaw, spreading from your chin outwards. The hairs pushed out quickly, climbing up your cheeks engulfing the peach fuzz that was there before. Your wispy mustache thickened up as thicker, darker hairs sprouted between older soft ones, spreading and connecting with the rest of your burgeoning beard. Hairs poured out of your face, itching as follicles were pushed into overdrive cranking out a thick rug across your cheeks. The hairs grew thicker and wirier, tangling together into a solid mass pushing out. It quickly passed an inch long, then two, then three. Your face had vanished entirely behind a curtain of masculinity, and you could feel the itch of new hairs popping out on your neck as it worked down. In shock, you raised your hands and thrust your fingers deep into the beard, scratching at the hairy mass that had appeared within seconds.

You didn’t have time to admire this feat, as moments later you suddenly bowled over, feeling like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You collapsed onto your ass on the bathroom tile, looking down at yourself. Your belly began to grow, pushing out. Your eyes went wide as it hardened with muscle, it wasn’t abs but it showed real strength. You felt the gut, your fingers prodding the layer of thick hard muscle underneath a slight bit of fat. The intense soreness that underlaid your new musclegut spread up, and you watched as your chest pressed out into thick pecs. The mounds pushed and tightened into refined muscle, before softening slightly into huge pillows adorning your chest. Your traps sprang next, putting on size, followed by your shoulders as they puffed into serious boulders. You could feel muscles bulking up all over, the soreness gradually replaced by ecstasy as your body exploded with mass. Your back widened, your arms grew into full-on gun shows, hands thickening to match, your quads and calves doubled in size, even your ass plumped up. It felt like your back was cracking on repeat as it stretched upward, your legs pushing out equally to add another three inches to your height. Not to be outdone, your feet popped as they grew another few sizes.

You laid there, back against the wall, panting from the intense growth. Though it happened in front of your eyes you could scarcely believe it as you squeezed your huge muscle tits in your hands. Sweat was pouring down your huge frame, muscles fatigued severely from inflating so much. That was when the itch returned. Starting in the center of your chest, you looked down to see a thick dark hair push through the skin. You reached up to grab it, feeling the coarse strand between your fingers as you feel more pushing up against the rest of your hand. What started as a few hairs quickly grew into a patch, spreading out as more hairs cropped up over your luscious pecs. A wave of stubble pressed out over the expanse of muscle, shoots of dark hairs elongating into thick strands that gained some curl as they grew. Within seconds your chest was buried in a continuously growing rug, new curls and swirls developing as more hairs grew in.  The itch crept outward from your chest, bringing with it a tidal wave of growth. Your collarbone vanished beneath the carpet as wiry strands connected up to your beard. Your shoulders itched from the fur coating taking root, your traps similarly felt the growth. Your bulging biceps and triceps got their own dusting, and your thick forearms became the site of the most luxurious forest of hair, thick strands popping up across the backs of your hands and knuckles.

The feeling of fur erupting across your body was electric, the uncomfortable aspects of itching drowned out by surges of pleasure. Your pits were next to feel it, an increase in sweat leading the way for the blossoming of what were surely to be the most masculine pits around. The bare skin tingled as thick, wiry hairs burst forth, quickly growing into a dense tuft to catch all the sweat dripping down. The hairs tangled together, spreading out over a wider and wider tract, escaping your pits entirely to connect to your chest rug and arm hair. New hairs pushed out between the older ones, until even scratching at the area couldn’t yield the skin below. Your gut itched as the carpet on your chest swiftly moved down over it, burying it beneath layers and layers of fur.

Your groin itched as your sparse bush exploded in size, hair pushing out and spreading like wildfire. The hairs surged up to connect with the rug on your torso and down over your thighs. Your balls ached as they swelled before becoming hidden behind a dense carpet. Your pubes grew denser as more and more hair squeezed out, climbing up the shaft of your growing cock. You could see the rug advancing down your legs, coating your thick thighs and calves in hair, before your feet pushed out a generous covering of hair, with tufts on the toes. Your ass itched as both cheeks darkened slightly as a fur coat enveloped them before racing up your back, the wide expanse itching as hairs conquered the open skin.

Your mind suddenly felt foggy as the stress of school faded, replaced by the desire to get out into nature. What were you doing cramped in this tiny apartment? You got up off the floor and looked again in the mirror, a scrawny student no longer in the reflection. Instead was a tall burly man, bursting with muscle and absolutely coated with hair. It felt right. You walked into your closet to find it now full of flannels and jeans, your work clothes. You pulled on the dirty jeans and threw on the flannel, only buttoning it about halfway. Your work boots were waiting by the door, and you slid them onto your newly grown feet. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door, not eager to be late to work again. You were a lumberjack, after all, the world depended on the wood you provided. It felt good, and you grinned as you hopped into your truck and sped off past your old campus, heading into the forest.

[patrophthia]

can u pls right about Theo and the reader. it is like prom night and she looks so pretty and Theo wants a kiss from her but, they aren't official yet so, yeah. but, she gives in the end. ty!! and Congo!!!

first kiss with theo are you kidding me?!? this is so cuteeeee

ditto | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, (kinda) established relationships, first kisses !!!

part of my 1k celebration event !

Coming to the dance with you is a bad idea. Why he even agreed to come is a mystery in the first place. He had never been one for balls or dances a like, with its loud music and crowded rooms; he’d much rather just stay at home with a good book and his cushioned bed. 

But you’ve asked of him to be here with you, as your date, and when he’s so so incredibly enamored by you. How could he ever say no? 

And now, as he stands before you, with your hands over his shoulders and his resting on your waist. Your eyes shut as you laugh at a lame joke he’d made, the sound resonating through your chest tugging at his heart string as you did so. He thinks that he’s never seen anyone as pretty as you. 

And it’s devastating, to think so —to know so, to know that within the last decades of his life, he’s only just now seeing someone like you. And he’s so incredibly lucky to be able to call you his, or at least officially do so in a few minute time. 

Your eyes open back up and your nose crinkles as you notice him staring at you. “What?” You ask. “Is there something on my face?” 

He tries to stop himself, he really did. He knows how cheesy it’d sound and how much you’d tease him for saying it but he says it anyways. “Just beauty.” 

And when you scrunch your nose, face contorting in disgust at his lame pick up line. He finds himself smiling at you. “Boo,” you say first, “stop saying things like that or we might actually have to break up.” 

“This early?” 

You’ve been going two months top, never having made it officials with labels and such but it’s clear that the two of you liked each other very much. Especially when one of you eyes the others lips for way too long. 

Just like how you’re eyeing his right now. “Mhmm.” 

He juts his lips out in a pout, and you don’t even bother to hide the fact that you’re staring at him. “That’s way too early don’t you think?” 

“Maybe?” You murmur, still swaying to the music. “But I’ve never been one for cheesy pick up lines so you’d have to make it up to me.” 

He’s soft when he’s with you, hands rubbing against the plush of your waist through your dress. “How can I do that?” 

“Tell me that you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.” 

It takes him a second, but then: “ditto.” 

And when he leans in his first, lowering himself so you wouldn’t strain your neck as your lips met his, he realizes he’s completely consumed by you; the taste of your lips, the feel of you in his hold, the scent of you, you were quite literally everything to him. 

And he’s so so glad that he’s your. 

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] based on 1x04.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, detainment

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ The shortest and most boooooring chapter to date but it's for a reason :(. And to make up for it (and the late post). I'll post chapter 5 much earlier than intended (AND THAT'S THE MIDSUMMERS CHAPTER WOOO).

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AND WITHIN MINUTES ALL THAT HOPE DIED. There was no gold. Just a shipwreck. The drone passed over the entire thing three times and nothing. The metal detector didn’t make a single sound.

“Just pull the damn thing up.” John B said, frustrated. “Somebody beat us to it.” 

“Or it was never there.” JJ muttered, steering the boat back in the direction you’d come.

WAKING UP TO MARLEY LICKING YOUR FACE WASN’T AN UNCOMMON OCCURRENCE, you assumed it’d just felt so unfamiliar because of the fact that you hadn’t slept in your own bed the last few days since this whole gold rush started. You groaned, lightly pushing the dog away from you with your palm.

“I’m awake, Marls…” You groaned out sleepily, rolling off of your bed with a grunt as you hit the floor, your side still sore from the events of yesterday. The pain was mostly gone, all that remained being a tenderness and slight redness surrounding the area.

Rolling onto your back and sitting up, you pet the chipper animal as she snuggled up under you. “Jesus, your morning breath is worse than mine.” You said, face twisting. Reaching for your phone as you scratched the top of her head, you saw that it was close to noon, you sighed, getting up and walking downstairs to get your day started.

You were surprised to find your mother shifting through documents on the kitchen island when you got there, slowing in your steps. “Hey, mom…” You said, eyeing the woman as you opened the fridge to pull out the milk. She merely glanced up at you, before averting her eyes back down to the documents in front of her.

“Morning.” She muttered. You faced away from her, hearing the pen she was writing with hit the counter as you walked to the side and grabbed the cereal from the pantry. “Did you hear about Topper’s boat?”

You bit your lip, completely forgetting about that. Realizing you hadn't responded and stood frozen in place, you cleared your throat and continued making your breakfast. “No, what happened?” You asked, faking obliviousness and pouring the cereal into a bowl, now facing her again. She had the papers in her hands, reading glasses sitting low atop her nose as her eyes scanned the pages as she spoke.

“He and Mrs.Thornton found it sunken this morning. What a waste of money. I hear it was brand-new.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Topper.” You remembered, pouring the milk over the colorful pellets of food. “Him and his friends aren’t exactly known for being careful.” You muttered with disdain. 

“Speaking of caution,” The woman began, clasping her hands in front of her. “I had an interesting meeting with Sheriff Peterkin and Shoupe. They said John B was being chased through town by some dangerous men earlier in the week and he apparently ran from his social worker when she went to pick him up this morning. Do you know what’s going on with him?”

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe the fact that his dad went missing and DCS has been trying to drop him into the system ever since?”

All she could do was sigh. “John B’s father is gone. It’s been almost a year. He needs to accept that and move on.”

“...He needs to just accept the fact that his dad is gone? Do you hear yourself, right now?”

“Listen, I don’t have the energy to argue with you, right now. If you see him or know where he is, it’d be very much appreciated if you could tell Shoupe or Peterkin so they can alert his social worker-”

You scoffed, looking your mother in her eyes. “I'm not doing that. You're crazy if you think I'm going to help you and your cop friends put one of my best friends into foster care-”

“Excuse me?” Your mother was baffled at your tone. But it seemed like everytime you came home recently, on the rare occasion that you did, she always had questions. Scratch questions, accusations. And in your mind, either she knew something or she just wanted reasons to be on your ass. “I don't know what's gotten into you recently. If your father could see you now-”

“No, mom,” You cut her off shortly. “If only he could see you.” You spat, making your way back up the stairs, bowl of cereal in hand, slamming the door behind you.

“AREN’T YOU GLAD I MADE YOU COME?” Kie asked cheerfully, carrying a cooler full of snacks and drinks while you laid out a blanket on top of the grass, JJ and Pope unfolding lawn chairs to sit in. Kie had rounded you all up to see a movie in the park with her. You’d already informed them of the reason for John B’s absence, seeing as this isn’t his first marathon from DCS. If he got away successfully, per usual, you all would be seeing him by tomorrow.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest.” JJ replied. While Kiara was preoccupied, Pope whispered to JJ, but you could still hear them.

“We are in enemy territory. Way out of the green zone, man.” He was visibly anxious, eyes fleeting all across the crowd of people that littered the lawn. 

“Dude, tranquilo, okay?” JJ tried to calm him.

“We are in the middle of Kooklandia.” He hissed. “This is the last place I wanted to be.” He ranted, the two boys not even noticing when Kiara got up to go get drinks.

“Shut up. Both of you.” You reprimanded, sternly. “God, you have the worst poker faces I’ve ever seen.”

“They could be lurking in the bushes right now, we don’t know.” Pope tried to make you understand.

“Dude, just chill out.” JJ said. Just then, Kie had come back, four cans of soda in her arms that she distributed evenly amongst the group of you.

“Just saw Rafe,” The name alone sends a small wave of chills down your spine. “He said to ‘tell your girl that we know what she and your boy did’. What does that mean?” Her eyes fleeted towards you for the most part. 

“Where is he?” You questioned without hesitation.

“Right there,” She motioned behind her, prompting you to whip your head around to where Topper, Rafe, and Kelce stood menacingly by a tree, sipping on beers. Even from that distance, you could tell he was staring dead at you. It brought back so many unwanted feelings and memories, so badly it made your head hurt.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope’s voice cracked. 

“Hey,” Kiara’s voice called from beside you, just loud enough for only you to hear. You turned back to face her. “What’s going on? Is he still bothering you? Is it about what happened-”

“No, it’s not.” You were quick to cut her off in case the guys were listening. “It’s not about that.” You said sternly, tuning back into JJ and Pope’s conversation.

“If they corner me, I’m comin’ out swingin. I’m on edge right now.” JJ spoke seriously. “If that doesn’t work, I got this right here.” He assured, holding up his backpack that looked mostly empty but oddly heavy.

“JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there are kids!” Kie started, being oddly loud for not wanting people to know that JJ may or may not have brought a gun.

“I didn’t bring the gun, Kiara. Everything’s fine.” He tried to calm her. 

“That’s really convincing.” She said, voice full of sarcasm. “...What happened? What did you guys do?” She asked, eyes going back and forth between the three of you that remained quiet. “Founding principle, no secrets among pogues. What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie,” Pope started, voice low. “It might go down tonight.” 

YOU ALL WERE A GOOD WAY INTO THE MOVIE AT THIS POINT, the sun had gone down and the air had cooled. The only sounds filling your ears were the movie playing and crickets in the trees. You were sitting in between JJ’s legs, using the base of his lawn chair as a backrest to ease the pain on your side from trying to keep yourself up. You’d heard him and Pope whispering but paid no mind until the blonde was tapping your shoulder, signaling that he was getting up.

“Where are you guys going?” You questioned, looking up at him and adjusting the chair from where it had slipped behind you once he got up.

“We gotta wring it out.”

“Together?” Kie asked.

“It’s bro code. Bro’s who piss together…” He struggled to find a rhyme with the made-up honor code. “...stick together. We’ll be right back.” You watched as the pair of boys crouched, creeping through the crowd and over to a tree next to the projector screen. You questioned why they didn’t head to the actual bathrooms but quickly got your answer with a quick glance back, seeing Rafe and his goons blocking it.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Kie whispered.

You sighed, curling in on yourself slightly. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.” The girl scoffed and shook her head. 

“Do the guys know? About what happened?”

“No. Why would they?”

“Do you ever plan on telling them?” You rolled your eyes, starting to get frustrated. 

“No, Kie, I don’t. I’d like to forget it ever happened, if that’s okay with you.” You snapped, silence falling over the two of you as the movie continued to play.

You assumed maybe a handful of minutes had gone by before you noticed the guys hadn’t come back yet and one weary glance behind you told you all you needed to know — Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were gone, too.

You immediately shook Kie’s arm, startling the poor girl.

“What? What is it?”

“We need to go. Now.” Was all you said before you got up, taking JJ’s bag with you as you and Kie swiftly walked in the direction the guys had gone earlier so as to not alarm any movie viewers. Coming around the back of the projector screen, you were met with a brutal scene in front of you — Kelce held JJ by his arms as Rafe delivered blow after blow to his face while Topper beat up Pope.

“Let go of him! Fascist asshole!” Kie yelled as she whacked Topper in the back over and over. You made a b-line for Rafe, throwing JJ’s bag down and jumping onto the boy’s back, wounding your arms around his neck, allowing JJ an open opportunity to push Kelce off of him.

“Leave him alone, Rafe!” You screeched.

“You don’t wanna do this, sunshine!” He yelled back, throwing you off of his back and onto the grass. Just like yesterday, you were on your back as he stared down at you, breathing heavily. “I’m being nice. Only ‘cause you’re my favorite.” He smirked, huffing with blood in the corner of his lip before turning back to JJ. 

You rolled on your side in the grass to see Topper choking out Pope only after having seen him throw Kiara to the ground. JJ had Rafe handled. You reached for JJ’s bag that had been abandoned, flipping it open to reveal the gun and a lighter. Your eyes went back and forth between the gun and Topper, who had Pope in a deadly chokehold at this point.

You wanted to do it, so bad.

But a gun to a Kook's head was what caused all of this in the first place, so you dismissed the thought, kicking the lighter over to Kie, the object hitting the sole of her shoe.

The girl looked down at the lighter and then at you, you motioned towards the projector screen and she caught on quickly. It wasn’t long before the projector screen was going up in flames, scaring the movie guests and breaking up the fight, spooking the guys. Topper released Pope as JJ pushed Kelce back once more, Rafe stood off in the middle of the four guys, staring directly at you as you got up.

When he snapped out of whatever trance he was in, he gathered up Topper and Kelce and fled the scene. Kie helped Pope up as you turned your attention to JJ. He was fixing his clothes but you didn’t miss the scars on his cheek and bottom lip.

“Are you okay?” You asked frantically, eyes roaming his entire face for any more cuts.

“Fine, I’m fine.” He calmed you as you laid a hand on his shoulder before trailing it up to the back of his neck, but he looked like he wanted to say something. Like he was thinking extremely hard.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You urged the rest of your group, leaving before the fire department and cops inevitably made their appearance.

“I JUST ACTED OFF INSTINCT, MAN. I WAS A CORNERED ANIMAL.” Pope told JJ as he restocked some items on the shelves inside of Heyward’s. It was the next morning but you were all still on edge about the fight last night. It was clear now that Topper knew Pope and yourself were the ones who sank his boat and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Don’t feel bad, dude. It was three of them and two of us.” JJ tried to remedy it. “That’s some typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hell yeah.” Kie agreed. 

“Hey Pope,” Heyward’s voice rang out in the small crab-shack, towel slung over the older man’s shoulder. “There’s someone here to see you.” He motioned behind him, Deputy Shoupe making his appearance.

Pope’s posture immediately straightened, his eyes going wide as the shop went silent with Shoupe’s arrival. “Evening, officer.” He barely got out. Shoupe’s eyes went between you and Pope before replying.

“You’re both here. Great.” He said, reaching into his holster. “I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property. For both of you.” 

“Woah, woah, woah…” Heyward was stunned as he stood back and watched the scene play out in front of him.

“Keep your hands on the counter where I can see ‘em.” Shoupe handcuffed Pope first, the boy putting up no fight in his daze. He looked like he’d faint any moment.

“Shoupe, what’d they do?!” Heyward tried again.

“Look at the warrant.” Was all the deputy offered in response, remaining stoic. Once Pope was secure, he moved onto you, looking you in the eyes somewhat pitifully before beckoning for you to turn around and put your hands behind your back. Heyward, Kiara, and JJ were causing commotion, talking over one another as he secured you in handcuffs.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney…” He continued but you could barely hear him as he single-handedly guided both you and Pope out of Heyward’s Seafood. Pope’s father, JJ, and Kie follow close behind.

“Shoupe, it was just me.” You tried, craning your neck to look at the officer. “Pope didn’t do anything.”

“Nice try, kiddo. But there were two people on that boat, caught it on camera. And your face is as clear as day.” He dismissed you.

“It was me!” JJ yelled, causing Shoupe to stop in his tracks. The three of you turned around to look at the blonde. “...Pope tried to talk us out of it. But Y/N and I were just too mad because they’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those Figure Eight assholes." He spoke convincingly, eyes landing on Pope's ashamed figure. "I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.” JJ was now right in front of Pope, looking the boy dead in his eyes. “You’ve got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what’re you doing?” Pope said hushed but still aggressive.

“I’m telling the truth, for once in my damn life.” He said without much hesitation at all. “I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“What the hell…” Heyward looked crazily at the blonde boy.

“He’s a good kid.” JJ told Shoupe. “...You know where I’m from.” Shoupe nodded lightly, agreeing with the statement before his attention was on you and Pope.

“That the whole truth, Pope?” Shoupe inquired, cocking an unbelievable eyebrow.

He seemed to ponder on it before gulping heavily and nodding his head shakily, looking at JJ one last time. “Yeah…that," He huffed. "That covers it.” 

YOU’D NEVER SEEN THE INSIDE OF A JAIL CELL, not that you ever planned on it. It was suffocating. The walls, the color of the walls, the dingy bars, the stale air. You felt like a caged animal, an unwelcome chill making the experience that much more unbearable.

You and JJ sat across from one another — on the floor, legs bent underneath with your heads thrown back.

“Why’d you do it?” You questioned, your voice echoing out within the cell. "Take the fall, I mean..."

“I couldn’t let Pope go down for it.” His raspy voice replied. “I would’ve taken the fall for you both. But I heard Shoupe, they had footage of two people and your face was ‘as clear as day’.” He mocked the older man’s southern twang.

The action made you chuckle, craning your head down to look at him, not aware that he was already looking at you.

You sighed, shaking your head and running fingers through the base of your hair. “I should’ve never suggested it in the first place. I knew it was a stupid idea, I just wasn’t in the right headspace…”

“Because of Rafe?” The question made your heart stop, eyes jumping up to his before fleeting to the ground. “It’s not hard to notice. He clearly knows you, knows you. But I just…can’t put the pieces together. What happened between you two?”

You looked down at your hands that were now wound around your knees, your fingers fiddling with each other. “A lot of things happened, when I first moved to Figure Eight and fell in with Kiara and I’s old friend group. Let’s just... leave it at that.”

The blonde was looking at you like he wanted to press for more information and you knew one day he would, and with the way recent events have played out? That day might come sooner than you were comfortable with. But for right now, you just couldn’t wait until you got out of this cell. Somehow.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

steve rogers x fem reader

words: 697

warnings & tags: this is just pure fluff 😭

a/n: this isn’t proofread and written p quickly, but thank you for sending this so i could let go of this sweet little idea i had sitting in my drafts 🥹♥️♥️♥️♥️ i hope you like it!! xo

You almost didn’t come to your high school reunion, and honestly, part of you wishes you hadn’t. Those were some of the worst years of your life and you don’t exactly want to relive them.

But… Okay, so, maybe it’s a silly reason to attend the reunion, but your curiosity about one specific person won out. Steve Rogers, your high school crush, a fellow nerd like yourself. He was scrawny and fierce, kind to a fault—except to bullies, even if it meant taking a hit or two. He’d been your lab partner during your senior year, the two of you soaring through the class with the highest grades and sharing an easy camaraderie.

It’d been the simplest thing in the world for you to fall for him. Your only regret was never saying anything to him about it. So, naturally, when the invitation came in the mail, the only motivation you had to go was to hopefully see him and catch up with him.

You’ve been in the ballroom of the hotel where the reunion was taking place for almost two hours and haven’t caught the first glimpse. Which is why you’re now nursing a drink at the open bar and ignoring everyone around you.

Suddenly, someone comes to stand in the spot next to you. They clear their throat lightly and, with a sigh, you lift your gaze to meet striking blue eyes that are crinkle at the corners from a smile. Your frown smooths out into surprise as recognition hits you.

“Steve?”

The gentle laugh that escapes him feels like a sucker punch. This is not the boy from school you remember. This is a man, who clearly had a major growth spurt, with broad shoulders and strong muscles that are straining against his clothes, a sharp jaw, and a full beard that your fingers itch to touch.

He says your name in return on an exhale, that stunning smile tickling the corners of his lips still. “Hi,” he greets, shyly glancing down to his feet then back up at you through his thick lashes.

It takes a moment for your brain to kick-start again, but once it does you quickly set off into conversation. Talking with Steve flows easily and you’re back to feeling like a teenager within minutes, giggling and feeling heat gather in your cheeks, almost twirling your hair around your finger more than once.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he confesses a little while later. “I was hoping you would be.”

“Really?” you question, then blurt, “Why?”

Steve laughs, shrugging as he ducks his head and bites his lip. “Kinda hard to forget your first crush,” he replies shamelessly.

“You liked me?” you ask, voice quiet and astonished, tummy swirling with nerves.

“Of course I did. You were kind to me when not many others were and so beautiful,” he admits. “Still are,” he adds softly.

“But…” You trail off, blinking rapidly as your mind races. “But I had a crush on you!”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s way more shocking than me liking you,” he teases.

“No it’s not,” you protest earnestly. “You were always so sweet and made me laugh. You never backed down from the mean kids and stood up for others who were too scared to do it for themselves. It was impossible for me to not like you.”

“Ah,” he breathes, bashfully waving you off.

“I only came here in the hopes of seeing you too,” you say after gathering the courage.

Steve meets your eyes then, sparkling and full of both tenderness and desire. You swallow roughly and do your best to hold his gaze, no matter how much it starts making you want to squirm. Finally, he breaks the momentary silence.

“You wanna get out of here? Maybe grab a bite to eat from the diner a few blocks away?” he proposes.

You’re nodding before he even finishes, beaming up at him. “I’d love to.”

The soft smile he aims your way makes your heart flutter, and when he takes your hand in his you finally let out the giggle that’s been threatening to slip out the entire time you’ve been talking with him.

[petrichorium]

he doesn’t expect to see you when he does. of course he knows you’re the queen’s right hand (he remembers the first time he’d heard of it, the pride that welled up within him. not surprise, though; he’d always been enamored with your vicious, angry ambition and combined with your brilliant mind it had been plain to see even then just how far you’d rise) but he had thought you’d be back at your home estate for the winter—it’s southern, a far more pleasant climate in the colder months, and your mother tends to fall ill.

but then you come hurrying out of the corridor, hand held by the queen like a lifeline, and he can’t find it within him to care that he hadn’t intended for you to witness the violence of his coup. he hasn’t seen you in years. you’ve grown; your skirts graze the floor with length that would have tripped you in your youth, the neckline is lower than your mother ever would have allowed. you hold yourself like a court lady, the very picture of regal grace, and when he lifts his blindfold to see you clearly your eyes widen with immediate recognition.

he’s always loved your eyes, expressive but only to him. he’s happy to find that he hasn’t lost the ability to read them; there’s fear, certainly, but that hunger you’ve always held is still churning within them, and it rears its lovely head the moment he sees the pieces click into place in your mind—that he is the leader, that he remembers you, and that he is staring right at you all but openly declaring his intent. it’s only when the queen moves that he tears his gaze away, and he only does it because she breaks the line of sight with herself, eye contact impossible with her hiding you behind her body. it’s maternal; precious, he’d think, if he weren’t so irked by an inability to see you.

(he holds little affection for his aunt but of all his remaining family she likely is his favorite, and the least culpable in the plot to murder him all those years ago. he’s inclined to attribute it to the fact that she’s married into the family, warped but not formed by its toxic nature. he doesn’t intend to kill her—never had—but you’re beside her, and she’ll have to forgive him for how he hasn't much mental capacity to focus on anything else the moment he lays eyes on you)

he wishes he could speak with you now, wishes he had the time. but he can’t, because he doesn’t, and he knows that he wants you alone as soon as possible so he orders his men to take you to the queen’s quarters. then he realizes you’ll have a room there—he specifies that he means the queen’s bedchamber, leaving no room for ambiguity in his intentions.

he’s distracted in the hours afterwards. there’s much to do, he hasn’t even found his uncle to relieve his head from his shoulders, yet his mind can’t stop straying to the thought that you’re up there pacing and wondering.

it’s a long night. by the time he’s taken care of everything and finally has the opportunity to ascend the steps to where his men have locked you up, it’s nearly sunrise. he has little doubt that you’ll still be up anyway; it’d be a miracle if you were able to sleep for even a few minutes.

he’s thought about this moment for a long time. seeing you again for the first time, that hadn’t been so clear; he’d anticipated having to search for you, anticipated you hiding from him. but he’d known the whole time that eventually he’d be able to have this conversation, at least once, no matter what.

you still take him by surprise by hitting him when he enters.

you’ve managed to find the queen’s crown—why it’s in her bedchamber rather than safely locked away he doesn’t know, though in the fleeting millisecond he witnesses it in your hand he thinks it belongs there. a point hits his forehead with enough force to maim, slamming his head sideways, and he’s thankful he thought ahead enough to dismiss his guards before entering. he’s so shocked it takes him a moment to turn back to you, finding you standing there with the same amount of shock on your face as he’s feeling. his lips part in a grin as he reaches up to press his thumb against the split skin now bisecting his left brow, already bleeding profusely.

“wow, suddenly i’m very glad we locked you up.”

“are you insane?” you yelp as he takes a step towards you, stumbling back a step of your own and dropping the crown out of shock. “don’t come any closer.”

“aww.” he pouts. takes another step.

you step back again, eyes frantic. “i’m not joking, gojo, don’t come near me, at least not until you explain—”

“the assassination failed, years ago.” he obeys you, mostly because he thinks you might escape into the bathroom if he pushes you too far. “but with my parents dead, it was safer for my attempted murderers to think otherwise. i bided my time until i was strong enough to retake my throne, and ah… get revenge upon those murderers, i suppose. you were a bit of a surprise, i’ll admit—a fortunate one, to be fair. i’d been preparing to search for you, but here you are. right before me.”

“what did you do with her majesty,” you demand, ignoring the ending that he’s tagged on as you take another step away so that you’re out of his wingspan as he reaches out to touch you, and the sentiment is so sweet that he can’t help but smile.

“no concern for her husband, hm? the king? haven’t heard of him?”

your sneer makes him laugh outright. it's instinct to lean in and flick the middle of your forehead like a schoolboy. it stuns you; you blink in surprise, then again in indignation, but he’s giving you a real answer before you can voice an opinion.

“auntie’s fine, she’s hours away from the castle by now. headed back to her kingdom—that’s where you were going to go with her, yeah? lucky i found you before you slipped away, would’ve been a real pain to court you from there.”

“court me?”

“uncle’s well and truly dead, though. with no sons it’s far less messy, i am the most blatant heir to the throne. of course any number of my cousins—the living ones, anyway—could dispute my claim but that would certainly take a level of backbone i don’t believe any of them possess.”

“gojo, do not ignore me—”

he snickers. “that’ll be hilarious once you bear the name too.”

you let out a strangled noise, “you are—too presumptuous, you fiend!”

“fiend, you say! oh, that’s a new one. i like it, say it again.”

“you brute.” it’s quieter this time, accompanied by a quiver in your lower lip—he decides he’s toyed with you enough. the night has been harder for you than him, and the morning won’t be much better.

“brute, is it? i’ll have you know i spent hours in the garden picking flowers before coming to you.”

he watches the realization dawn on you. you take a step back, heel hitting the bed—he doesn’t follow anymore, but he does finally reveal the bouquet he’s been hiding behind his back. your jaw drops as your eyes fall on it.

he’s never been one for tradition. if you weren’t you, he probably wouldn’t have bothered with the customary manner of proposal. nothing else about the situation is traditional, though, so he considers it more a favor for you; a betrothal gift, a little bit of normalcy. and though he thinks his lineage is little more than a curse, he can’t help but think the blue morning glories of his family and the deep purple ones representing his status as reigning monarch look striking sitting next to your family’s dahlias.

your movements are slow and dreamlike as you take the flowers from his outstretched hand.

“you cannot be serious,” you say, falling to sit slumped on the bed with the bouquet in your hands.

“you wouldn’t believe how difficult it was to find dahlias on those grounds, couldn’t your ancestors have chosen a different one? couldn’t the gardeners have grown more?”

“i grew them.” it’s little more than a murmur, dazed, as your finger comes up to stroke at the petals of the pale pink flower. “for—for whatever match the queen would give me.”

there’s a rushing fury that fills him at that. it’s foolish; he’s won, and he’s the best suitor in the kingdom now if there even had been competition (or will be, once he’s coronated in the morning), there’s no reason to feel jealousy over someone who doesn’t even exist.

yet it’s that burning which bids him to pull the blindfold off quicker than he can truly think about it—compels him to drop to his knees before you even faster, drawing your attention as he lays his head in your lap and wraps an arm around your covered thighs under the pretense that it’s for support rather than to feel you. if he weren’t well aware of how you’d react, and less than eager to be shoved away, he might have lunged up and kissed you when your eyes lifted from the flowers to his uncovered gaze.

“you’re not serious,” you repeat. your eyes are wide as they stare down at him, terrified yet ablaze with that hungry fire he thinks he’d let consume him if it would make you happy.

“everything i’ve wanted,” he tells you again, as if that could possibly get across how desperate he’s been to make you his queen. “for so long.”

usurper!gojo masterlist

[quizzicalwriter]

hi! i loved your writing on dallas. could you please make a pt.2 of riverside where they're back at Buck's and they share an intimate moment (nsfw or not). thank you!

Riverside

Part Two

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Second part of ‘Riverside’ follows you and Dallas on the walk home and what happens after!

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Kissing, touching, slightly dominant Dallas, oral and fingering (both reader receiving.)

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Thank you for the request!

The walk back to Buck’s shouldn’t have taken that long, but the way you kept cussing under your breath with each squelch your shoes would make beneath your wet feet slowed things down to a snail's pace, enough for Dallas to groan inwardly and light another cigarette.

“You want my shoes?” He asked, pausing in his steps as he turned toward you, causing you to walk face-first into his chest due to your preoccupation with your damn shoes.

“What? No, no. I’m okay.” You replied, brushing your hair from your face where it’d flown forward when you’d all but head-butted Dallas’s chest. Luckily he didn’t care, his fingers moving to help you clear your face of your still-wet hair as he smirked around his cigarette.

“You’re stubborn and you’re cold, even with my jacket.” He murmured, leaning down ever so slightly to meet your eyes. “Still tryin’ to say you aren’t cold?”

You scowled at him then, the look making Dallas laugh as he turned back on his heel to continue the walk with you following in tow, sulking because you knew he was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

The leap into the river had led to Dallas kissing you, so you couldn’t say you regretted it all too much. Hell, you’d probably have done it in December if it meant Dallas’s hands found their way to your waist and breasts as they did back on the riverbed. The thought alone made your cheeks flush, thighs clenching together as you tried to clear your mind from your lascivious thoughts of the man walking in front of you.

You knew Dallas well enough to know that he would’ve walked the trek back to Buck’s barefoot if you’d asked him to, but you didn’t want to, maybe due to a combination of your stubbornness and not wanting to be the cause of Dallas accidentally walking on some broken glass given how the streets of Tulsa were on the best of days.

Thanks to a walk through a nearby abandoned apartment complex, you two were able to enter the city within five minutes. Dallas didn’t seem to like the idea of walking you alone, made much apparent by his continuous fiddling with his switchblade in his jean pocket as his other arm held you securely by his side. Nobody’d ever mess with you, not with Dallas by your side, he’d fought nearly everyone in town and then some, it felt like having your personal guard dog as you walked beneath the flickering streetlights, your gaze locked straight ahead, except for whenever you felt the pull to look at Dallas.

As you both walked up the street leading to Buck’s bar you quickly became aware of the sheer amount of cars surrounding the establishment. Dallas seemed to realize just as you did, a curse falling from his lips as you two squeezed your way between muscle cars and broken-down pieces of junk you found yourself amazed even made their way to the bar. The music was loud before he opened the front door, making you wince somewhat as you leaned into his side, allowing him to guide you through the dense crowd and cigarette smoke toward the stairs.

You thanked your lucky stars that nobody called upon Dallas besides a few greetings directed toward himself and you, not wanting to linger where the smoke was the heaviest and the conversations consisted of drunk individuals trying to scream over each other to ensure they were heard.

He opened his bedroom door for you then, holding it open as you walked beneath his arm into the warmth that poured from his room. It smelled heavily of him and his cologne, the scent making you feel safe, almost reminiscent of how a home should feel. You walked over to his bed, draping his leather jacket over the metal railing at the end of the bedframe.

There was a moment when you turned to face him, clothes clinging to your wet frame as his eyes looked you over. There were unspoken words exchanged between you then, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your shirt as you shifted on your feet, waiting for him to make the first move. Despite the warmth of the room you still felt your skin alight with goosebumps, a slight shiver running up your spine as your body acclimated to the new temperature.

The way you shivered made Dallas frown, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he moved toward you, both of you now enveloped in the warmth of his bedroom. The music still raged downstairs, some band you couldn’t recognize, but the only thing you could focus on was the way Dallas touched you over your clothes. His eyes flickered up to meet yours then, a smile evident on his face.

“Told you, didn’t I? Shouldn’t have gone in that water, got you shivering. Can practically feel your heartbeat through your skin, doll.”

There was always something electric in the way that Dallas touched you, his hands drifting up and underneath your shirt, fingertips ghosting over your skin. He knew how to make you writhe, to make you desperate enough to consider begging, which for someone like you didn’t come easily. You could feel his fingertips drift over your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples as he leaned down to press another kiss to your neck.

This was gentle, incredibly gentle for how irritated you’d made him earlier in the night. Something in his eyes made you not question it, his brow furrowed and lips parted as if he were committing every facet of your body to his memory. You only caught onto his game when your back involuntarily arched, pushing your chest into his palms. He abruptly pulled away, brown eyes flickering up to you as he tilted his head to the side.

“Can’t move while I’m tryin’ to warm you up, doll.” He stated, his voice reminiscent of how you’d chastise a kid for stealing something from a candy store. It made a whine die in the back of your throat, face skewing in desperation as you fought internally with yourself to be good.

After a moment he resumed, cupping your waist before sliding his hands down to your waist, then trailing them to the front of your jeans to slowly unbutton them. How he managed to keep his cool in such a manner never failed to amaze you, while your chest was heaving deeply with each breath he looked completely calm, occasionally narrowing his eyes whenever you began squirming against his touch.

As he pulled your jeans down, he moved down with them, effectively propping himself up on his knees in front of you as he helped you to step out of the denim. Once your legs were free he rubbed his hands along your calves, thighs, everything he could get his hands on. And then he started kissing along your skin, open-mouthed, lewd kisses that made you instinctively grab at his hair.

“Skin’s still so cold.” He whispered, fingers hooking around the band of your underwear as he slowly pulled it down to expose your glistening cunt to the night air. After he helped you to step out of your underwear you watched with bated breath as he began trailing another series of kisses up your legs, stopping short of your inner thigh. His hands grasped at the plushness of your ass, squeezing it hard enough to pull a squeak from you as you nearly stumbled on your own two feet.

“Dal, I-“ Before you could utter another word he moved between your legs, tongue flattening out against your folds. Your knees immediately buckled, causing you to stumble where you stood as you grasped at the skin of your thighs, silently pleading with yourself to not move - you didn’t want him to stop.

Your lips parted, whined out noises pouring from you as his tongue continued working between your folds, his eyes cast up at you as his grasp on your hips and ass tightened. You weren’t sure how many women he’d done this with, but all you could think of was the warmth and wetness of his tongue as it swirled around your clit and how he moved it in an almost expert like manner.

“Fu-uck.” You groaned, brows furrowing as your hips began moving against his mouth, pulling a grunt from his throat as he harshly slapped at the plush skin of your ass.

“Stop moving.” He all but growled out, quickly moving back between your legs as he began sucking at your clit, bringing his hand forward to curl two fingers into your cunt, slowly pumping them within you to match the tempo of his tongue.

Whatever coldness lingered against your skin from the frigid night air was long gone, replaced by a white-hot longing as his fingers pumped within you, the lewd sound of your arousal against his tongue and his fingers stretching you out filling the room along with your own near pathetic whines.

You could feel your orgasm building, inner walls clenching down around his fingers as he continued laving at your clit like a man starved. Every inhibition he’d had prior about having you stay still was long out the window as your fingers laced through his hair, locking onto the dark brown strands as you ground down against his face. You could’ve sworn you felt him smile against your cunt as your moans took up an octave, head falling back as you came against his tongue.

He slowly removed his fingers, taking a moment to pepper kisses against your inner thighs as you struggled to catch your breath. His hands smoothed up your sides as he moved to stand, the wetness once on his fingers pressed against your skin. You couldn’t bring yourself to be bothered, not when he’d made you cum against his tongue with enough ferocity to have your breath locked from your lungs as if you’d been winded.

He removed his jeans then, tossing them along with his belt into the far corner of his room, the fabric and metal falling with a soft clank. You didn’t have to look to know how hard he was, feeling him press against your stomach as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, your hands threading through his hair as you leaned up onto your toes to deepen the kiss. Only when your lungs were aching for oxygen did you pull away.

His lips were glistening in the moonlight that poured in through the bedroom window, his eyes dark and full of want. You were still weak, chest still heaving from your last orgasm as he scooped you up, helping your legs to wrap around his hips as he moved you both back to his bed.

You could feel the desperation pooling off of him, how his breath caught in his chest as he felt your bare cunt against his cock. How he looked at you made you feel as though you two had been doing this for years, a deep layer of intimacy in his gaze that you doubted he’d ever shown to anybody but you.

As he laid you down on his bed he made his way between your thighs, right hand moving to lift your thigh to drape it loosely over his hip. Neither of you felt the need to say anything, an unspoken layer of trust between you being heavily apparent as he leaned down to connect your lips again as he pushed into you.

The accompanying stretch felt heavenly, far bigger than his fingers. You could only gasp against his lips as he waited for you to nod, giving him some sort of sign that you were alright enough for him to move. As soon as you nodded he began rocking his hips, his brows furrowing as he tried desperately to conceal the low grunts that threatened to leave him.

“So tight.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your throat as he rolled his hips against you. “So fucking tight and warm.”

His voice was wavering, a noise akin to a whine falling from his lips as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. As his cock rocked into you, he reached a hand down between your bodies, swirling his middle and ring finger around your clit in sync with each roll of his hips.

The combination left you reeling, eyes screwing shut as your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into the muscle that lined his back as you began moving your hips to meet his movements halfway, each thrust hitting so deep within you that you swore you could feel him from the outside had you placed your hand on your lower stomach.

This was more intense than you had bargained for when he’d taken you upstairs, more intimate than you’d overheard from when he’d take women during parties. This was Dallas in a new light, one without the borders he usually shone around himself. You couldn’t help but crave it, crave all of him with each thrust within you.

With a strangled groan his grasp on the sheets beside your head tightened, his fingers against your clit picking up in their pace as he whispered against your skin. “I’m gonna cum.”

The words left you speechless, only nodding as you felt your second orgasm of the night building within your lower stomach. You pressed languid kisses to his jaw, moaning against his damp skin in between each kiss. His hand moved from the bedsheet then, moving to cradle your face as he leaned against you, effectively pressing you against the mattress as he rutted into you.

“Dallas-“ Was all you could muster, cunt spasming around his cock as you came undone, the feeling of you tightening around him causing him to grunt. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, hand quickly moving to pull himself out of you, cum shooting in hot ropes against your lower stomach as he did.

He looked ethereal when he orgasmed, brows screwed together, lips parted as he grunted, cum spilling over his fingers only to drip along the top of your cunt. As he caught his breath he looked up at you, his cheeks flushed crimson as he moved to kiss you, not bothering to fill his lungs with much-needed air in preference over having your lips against him for as long as he could stand it.

After you two pulled away, both needing to breathe, he wrapped his arms around your center, pulling your back flush to his chest, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck just as he had by the river. The feeling made you hum in contentment, resting your cheek against his pillow as he intertwined his legs with yours, his breaths growing soft, almost in tandem with your own.

“Told you I could warm you up.” He whispered against your skin, a cocky grin evident in his words, causing you to roll your eyes as you laughed.

A/N: If you have read this far, thank you!! And thank you anon for the request, I’m always happy to write things if I’m able to. As always my works can be found on ao3 as well under the user Unscriptural! Hope you guys enjoy this, still getting used to writing smut - well, getting used to sharing it.

[wherenymphsroam]

52 :3

And can I also kiss you?? 😭

52: “Can I kiss you?”

prompt game :^)

⟡ cw: mentions of withdrawals, struggles with alcoholism, depression, specifically soggy wet cat vendetta leon but can be read with damnation leon in mind :3

⟡ a/n: YES we are smooching, i am kissin u on the mouf rn 🤍

“Can I kiss you?”

What the hell was he saying.

One minute, he’s trembling over a plate of eggs and pancakes back at the hotel, and now he’s barely holding himself back from slumping against your shoulder like an old dog. You had insisted on dragging his miserable ass out of there, told him to get his shit together. That you were going for a ride, and he should hang on.

(Of course he was too stubborn to let you drive, no matter the fact that he had already put down half a bottle this morning.)

So despite his better judgement, he allowed you pull him away from those four walls that were his hotel room, all under the promise that it’d still be there when he got back.

Sure, he didn’t want to leave. If his hangover had anything to say about it, he’d be tucked back under the covers of that shitty, scratchy duvet in the fetal position. His head was pounding. But sat here on this stoop tucked away into the mountains, overlooking the small town he had sought out to lick his wounds within, the cool breeze sweeps away some of the tension in his facial features. The fresh air has coaxed that stress out of his shoulders, loosened him up in a way alcohol hadn’t managed to in years.

But maybe it was you.

You, tucked against his side, thumbing slow circles into the back of his palm. The scent of your shampoo drifting through the breeze that passes his nose that has his heart rate slowing. Honestly, he didn’t want to pull this apart. Whether it was the fresh air or you by his side that had him relaxing for the first time in months (years?), it didn’t matter. Because he asked a stupid question, and he doesn’t really feel like taking it back.

“Leon, you’re drunk,” you scoff, shaking your head. As if kissing your superior was such a far fetched idea. Or maybe you just didn’t want to kiss him. He couldn’t blame you, he’s not sure he even bothered to pack a toothbrush when he sought out a direct flight to Colorado.

“I’m the most sober I’ve been in weeks, right now.”

In his defense, he was telling the truth. After arriving at that run down mug, he had made it his mission to slug back as much as he could before he had to leave. Because he knew this was coming — whether in the form of a text message detailing his next deployment, or with the arrival of military personnel — and he had stuck it to himself to ignore it for as long as possible. Started digging that hole of sweet silence into his subconscious the second he got his room key.

And yet…. Here he was. Sobered up and wanting. Forced to face the sad reality that he was lonely, damn it.

Alright, universe, you win. He’ll admit it. Why else would you be playing with his head like this? Those eyes, deep as the ocean, bright as the stars. Pretty lips that fill out so delicately, cheeks that look softer than anything he’s felt in months. You were the embodiment of something a man like him didn’t deserve, and no withdrawal could create the guttural rawness of the wound this reality inflicted on him.

You weren’t a daydream, and you weren’t an illusion. You were tangible, distantly so. And after having been dragged back down to earth, he needed something stronger than what was in his flask.

Chancing a glance over at him, it’s clear you’re debating with yourself. Your teeth tucking that sweet bottom lip under them, plush in how it swells ever so slightly under the pressure. Lashes fluttering when you search his features. He was definitely in better shape than you had found him this morning, silverware clinking and wobbling in his unsteady grip.

The sight almost made you want to slip them from his hands, cut his food up for him like a doting mother. Maybe guide a few bites past his lips like some guilt ridden caregiver, anything to bring some color back to his cheeks.

But you’d never say that out loud.

“… I believe you,” you hum, gaze shifting back up from the dip of his cupids bow. A shitty cover to ignore how you had just wondered how that scruff over it would feel against your mouth. “Just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” He dryly laughs, short and null of any real humor. “Just like how joining this god forsaken organization wasn’t either, right?”

Silence. Thick, drawn out.

Few people knew just how Leon ended up in the DSO, landed himself in such a comfortable place with the higher ups. And fewer knew why he stayed. It’s hard to really respond to that when you’re not part of that statistic.

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself muttering softly, turning away again. Shifting your focus back out to gaze over the town below, the traffic flow of patrons returning home, shops turning off lights.

“Don’t be. I’m being a dick right now.”

Leon forgot how snippy he could be during withdrawals nowadays. Made him feel like an overgrown baby, still stuck in his oral phase. That flask in his pocket might as well have become a pacifier, anything to keep him from spinning off the handle.

“You’re acting like one, yeah. Doesn’t make you one.”

Pausing, Leon glances at you, follows the line of your side profile for a moment. Studies the line of your nose, the slope of your top lip. Down and over the jut of your chin, the retreat of your jaw. He wanted to follow that track with the bridge of his nose, maybe press his lips to the hollow of your throat.

Fuck. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as sober as he thought.

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head, glances out in the general direction you’re looking in. Can’t help how he finds similarities between the slopes of the mountains and your face.

“I’m glad you think so.”

[konigenblobbity]

Lion Tamer

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluffy Angsty Drama, jealous Miguel, animalistic Miguel, mention of drugging

—> [Bonus]

Summary: Being the assistant of Miguel for what feels like ages, you can’t help but develop feelings for him. Of course you’d never made it clear to him. But after Miguel returns from a mission drugged, his more savage side makes an appearance and you find yourself caged with an animal. A surprisingly gentle and protective animal…

You’ve been Miguel’s assistant for a while now, even before they picked up Gwen. Not only that but you were a main part of the tech team there. Constantly working on new tech while developing the existing ones. It didn’t matter that you weren’t a spiderman, Miguel had a soft spot for you and there’s not a moment he regrets making you a part of the team.

Miguel had entered your universe due to a reported anomaly sighting. He crossed your path and was impressed when you’d managed to steal his watch off his wrist and immediately decipher how it worked, even pointing out a flaw in its inner workings. He was hesitant when you offered to fix it for him but was pleasantly surprised when you had managed to within minutes.

He made the risky decision to offer you an opportunity to work with him… an ominous stranger who didn’t look like your common friendly neighborhood spider-man. Of course you immediately said yes. From then on, you grew more attached to him.

There was something so intriguing about this spider-man who wasn’t like all the other spider-men you met at the HQ. Still to this day you cannot understand what Miguel saw in you that made him feel comfortable enough to reveal this whole new world to you. Every time you pondered it you only cared for him more.

In an odd way he found his way into your heart. Every time he’d praise you for your work or even just stick by you when he had the time, it’d have your stomach in a twist. However, you did seem oblivious to how you’d managed to tear your way into his heart as well.

Ever since the day he’d offered you the job, his liking only increased, he found you endlessly endearing and slowly became interested in learning more about you. He’d asked you to share your workings with him, calling you over to help him with things he could definitely manage to do on his own. Trying to spend as much time with you as he could.

The way he took on a more gentle tone and demeanor around you. Everyone else took a note of it, but to you it seemed like nothing. Not willing to indulge in the fantasy that Miguel viewed you as more than his faithful assistant, no matter how much you wanted him to.

What should’ve really caught your attention was how he acted when you were around Hobie, who’d become a good friend to you early on, having immediately been kind and not caring that you weren’t a spider. Overall he made your transition into this world much easier, and for some reason Miguel detested him for it.

Whenever Hobie would hover around your desk when he had time, Miguel would glare daggers into the back of his head. Watching at how Hobie would make you laugh and then nonchalantly throw his arm around your shoulder or mess with your hair. It got under Miguel’s skin like nothing else.

On multiple occasions he’d even speak up, “Don’t you have something better to do than bother her?” Hobie would spare him a quick glance before leaning closer to you, reveling in how Miguel’s jaw clenched. When he didn’t respond Miguel spoke again “She’s focusing on some very important work right now. You should leave.”

His command would’ve made most spiders think twice but Hobie just shrugged and threw him an almost condescending look. “C’mon Miguel. She’s practically chained to this desk, I’m just here to keep her from overworking” Hobie’s words were paired with a smirk, one that wasn’t just smug… there was something else.

Miguel’s eyes watch at how Hobie then placed his hands on your shoulders beginning to massage gently. He felt his heart tinge with envy as he heard your soft hum of satisfaction, seeing how your shoulders relax under Hobie’s touch. The bastard.

“See? All this work is causin’ her pain. I’m just helping her out” at his words Miguel clenches his fists, Hobie’s obnoxious tone of voice causing him pain. That tone where he feigns innocence but Miguel knows he’s anything but. The fact you enjoyed the feeling of Hobie massaging you transformed it into pure agony.

Hobie continues to piss off Miguel. Letting his hands move down your back, letting his thumbs dig into your muscles. No matter how oblivious you might be to Miguel’s affections, Hobie wasn’t. He’s quite observant, he’s seen Miguel’s glances, the way he favors you, and he loved being a reason to bring it to the surface.

When he begins to trace circles into the skin of your back you let out another soft hum and chuckle “Christ Hobie you should get paid for this” a smile on your lips. Hobie leans down next to your ear, but holding eye contact with Miguel. “I can think of a few ways you can pay me love” a smirk still plastered on his lips.

That was the final straw for Miguel, he walks over and pushes away Hobie’s hands. Grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up off the chair. “Come. I need your advice on something” he said and was already dragging you away before you could react, glaring over his shoulder at Hobie.

Hobie just smiled to himself. Waiting for the day that either you or Miguel finally find the courage to admit just how infatuated you were with each other. Lucky for him… that day might come sooner than he thought. Who knows what tomorrow brings.

-

Your concern was through the roof when you heard the radio a few minutes ago. Jess had called you over your watch and told you to come up to one of the storage rooms immediately, saying that Miguel had just returned from a mission but hadn’t come back himself.

Telling you that she suspects he was drugged by an anomaly because he was acting like an animal… a savage. She needed help containing him before he accidentally hurt anyone. She adds that also contacted Peter, Hobie, and Gwen knowing she would need the extra support.

You were already out of your chair and bolting down the halls the second she said Miguel’s name. Not fully listening to anything she said after that. When you burst through the door of the room, your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you. There stood the Miguel you know and adore, but Jess was right… he looked rabid.

His mask was off and his claws were out, his teeth barred, fangs glistening under the light of the room. His eyes were wide and red. He stood there panting, staring at the group of spiders in front of him. Jess, Peter, Hobie and Gwen were all standing in front of him, hands in the air trying to both calm and coerce him.

Behind Miguel, and in the center of the room, was a large cage. One which were for much larger anomalies, such as ones the size of the Green Goblin from Miles-1610 dimension. It had been kept in this room for storage as they hadn’t yet had to use a cage this size yet. That made it perfect for trapping Miguel.

The four spiders were attempting to back Miguel into the cage, stepping forward slowly to get him to step back. There was deep growl emanating from Miguel’s throat, and just when he got closer to the cage he lunged forward, swiping his claw through the air, causing all the spiders to jump back and lose their progress.

Having not yet been spotted by Miguel, you slowly sneak around the group, moving across the walls of the room in order to reach the open door of the cage. Just as you reach it, you look up at Miguel and accidentally hit the door of the cage with your foot, causing a soft creak to echo in the room. Your eyes narrow as you curse yourself for not being more careful.

In an instant Miguel’s head turns to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes burning into your sockets as you visibly see his shoulders tense and jaw twitch at the sight of you. You feel your heartbeat speed up, practically pumping out of your chest. Something about the way that Miguel’s eyes look at you makes you think he can hear just how it hit your ribcage.

Both at fear of Miguel attacking you, and at the fact that he was distracted, the others take this opportunity to spring into action. “Now Hobie!” Gwen’s voice breaks Miguel’s trance and his head turns to look at her. Before he can react Hobie shot a web at his face, blinding him temporarily. Miguel’s hands reach up to claw away the web.

You watch as Gwen runs back and launches herself off a nearby wall to get momentum as she flies towards Miguel. Just as he manages to tear off the web blocking his sight, Gwen’s feet collide with his chest and knock him backwards into the cage before she elegantly flips back onto the ground.

As Miguel was sent flying back his instincts kick in and he attempts to grab at the cage door to stop himself from getting trapped. Unfortunately he grabs you instead. With your hands still wrapped around the cage door, he drags you into the cage, causing you to pull the door shut behind you before you’re forced to let go.

The second it happened the others immediately rush to the cage, eyes wide and a collective reaction of shock and fear. “No! Miguel don’t hurt them!” Gwen cries out, filled with concern, hands gripping the cage bars. The others standing at the wall of the cage as well.

All their gazes were focused on Miguel’s back… his body crouched down in the center of the cage, breathing heavy and a growl could still be heard coming from him. They got more worried at the fact that they couldn’t see you, and it was made worse by how they couldn’t hear you either. Not even a cry of pain.

Very cautiously Jess begins to move along the wall of the cage to get a better view of what was happening in the middle of it. As she got a sight of Miguel’s face, and spotted your figure below him, she felt relief at the fact that you appeared unharmed. You were trembling and eyes wide with fear but you weren’t hurt.

You were sat still on the ground, resting back on your hands, not daring to move. Keeping your eyes locked with his gaze, heart racing at the sight of his burning eyes and their manic nature. Miguel was leaning over you, unmoving expect for the rise and fall of his shoulders from his heavy breathing.

“M-Miguel wait-“ your sentence was interrupted as Hobie shouted “You hurt them I gauge your eyes out!” it immediately got Miguel’s attention, his head snapping towards Hobie with eyes of pure bloodlust. Meanwhile, your eyes dart to how Miguel’s hands tense and he bares his claws again, the one on the ground digging into its surface.

Deciding to be brave, you reach your hand over and place it on top of his. “Miguel” keeping your voice soft as you spoke, trying to soothe him. When his head snapped back at you, you looked into them with an unwavering gaze. His gaze shifted to your hand on his and it appeared as if he jaw began to relax, his fangs slowly becoming hidden by his lips.

You let out a breath, thinking you managed to help him calm somehow, but then you feel your heart drop. Once he fully registered your action he pulled his hand away, blinking wildly before growling and grabbing at his hair frantically. He shuts his eyes and when they open they send a tremble through you, they looked crazed. You place your hand back behind you.

You watch as he raises a hand, before lunging forward and grabbing at your jaw. “MIGUEL!” One of the spiders shout from the sidelines, but you’re not quite sure who. Head foggy and spinning with fear. Not only for what might happen, but the fact that it was Miguel who was doing it.

Your breath catches in your throat and eyes clench shut, waiting for the inevitable pain to come. His grip wasn’t painful or firm, but it still managed to wrap around your entire jaw. He moved his thumb to sit right under your jaw bone, the claw of it digging slightly into the skin. Your eyes fly open, his face mere inches from yours, but his were no longer looking into yours.

His gaze was focused at your neck, his teeth gritted, a scowl on his lips, his eyes still appeared crazed. Using the thumb under your chin he tilts your head up slightly, you clench your teeth in fear and watch as he leans his head down, nearing the crevice of your neck.

Once again you feel your heart beat quicken, able to hear its incessant pounding in your head. “M-Miguel, please. I-it’s me” you attempt to reason with him again but he seems to ignore you.

His breathing on your neck was heavy and a sharp growl leaves his throat making you tense up. Was he going to bite me? Please don’t bite me. Shit he’s gonna bite me. Your thoughts echo in your skull. “Please don’t bite me” you plead softly, hoping he’ll hear you. To your surprise he reacts moments later.

Miguel pulls away from your neck, and his hand releases your chin from its grasp; your body relaxes instantly at the action. Outside the cage you can hear a collective sigh of relief. You watch as Miguel slowly moves his head down towards your chest. You look up and away, too anxious to watch.

You glance over at the spiders outside the cage, each one watching intently. Your gaze locked with Jess’ for some kind of help but she just whispers softly “don’t move”. You nod your head at her warning, not sure if you even could move right now. To afraid of Miguel ripping out your throat.

Your whole body freezes as you feel him gently press his head against your chest. After swallowing the lump in your throat you find the courage to look down at him. His ear was pressed against your chest and you felt his hand delicately brush against your lower back.

His eyes weren’t looking at you but their pupils were thin surrounded by a soft red… the eyes themselves weren’t as wide anymore, narrow and lost in thought. A deep continuous growl emanates from his throat and you feel your stomach churn. It sounded displeased, almost a sense of frustration, what could possibly have him so mad?

As you contemplate his furrowed brows and grimace he surprises you further. Your mind back on him as you felt him begin to trace soft circles into your back. You noticed how tender his touch was as he grazed your skin, ensuring that he uses the pad of his fingers rather than his pointed claws.

Your breathing was still shaky and your heart still racing… but as more time passed you felt it slow and you began to calm. It’s then that Miguel stops growling. He shifts and places his other hand on your back as well; those fingers now tracing circles into your skin as well.

The action enough to reassure and soothe you… Miguel wasn’t hurting you, not even in the slightest. He was barely even moving. He simply rested his head against your chest, continuing to trace soft shapes into the skin of your back. Even with his large figure you watched as he slowly slumped down onto the ground, almost shrinking himself.

When your heartbeat returned to a relatively normal pace, you though you were dreaming when you heard a soft purr leave Miguel’s throat. It’s vibration against your chest your only sign that it was real; it sent a slight shudder through you. It’s then that you realized just what he was doing… he was listening to your heartbeat.

The way he pulled out of your neck when it sped up and began tracing circles into your skin trying to calm it - I wonder where he learned that. How he had his ear pressed against your chest and his growl turned to purr once your heart had returned to a relaxed pace.

After a minute or so of you just sitting there, listening to his gentle purring, you slowly lifted a hand and placed it on the back of Miguel’s head. He didn’t move or pull away… but his purring stopped as well as his fingers. You find the strength to speak “Shh… relax. Its just me Miguel” You paused for a second before gently beginning to scratch at the back of his head.

Not even a second later you felt his hands flatten out to simply rest at the small of your back as he began purring again. You felt his whole body begin to relax too, only then realizing how heavy he was breathing and just how his heart was racing. You smile and mumble again softly “You’re okay”

You let out a long sigh of relief and look over at the others outside of the cage. They all held an expression of shock mixed with amusement. Hobie even chuckled “Well well… now I’ve seen everything” he remarked and you chuckled as well. Smiling at them before shrugging as if this wasn’t making your heart sing as if you’re on cloud nine.

Jess steps back from the cage and goes to speak “As interesting as it is… we should use this as our opportunity to find a way to get him back to normal” Gwen turns to her and nods. “Will you be alright? While we go to find an antidote?” You look at Gwen and smile, nodding your head. “I think I’ll be just fine”

You look back down at Miguel, his head lying gently against your chest. His eyes had closed and his breathing synced up with yours as he continued to listen to your heartbeat. “I’ll be just fine” you repeat.

[dreamlessimp]

— elevator

itoshi rin x reader | 0.8k

you and him end up alone in an elevator

a football exhibit was opening in the chest city over, and ego wasted no time in sending a few from his team. with them, you were told to follow. it didn’t take much effort before you were sold, as you wanted to go anyway, and this was much better than going alone—or even worse—inviting someone to go with you.

chigiri and isagi picked you up from your house where you joined along with rin to walk the remaining distance. it was the closest to his home, reducing the amount of time dedicated to the two of you succeeding in maintaining a conversation. 

isagi had long sworn otherwise, but you had promised him that once you got past the obvious and rin’s anti-social nature, conversing with him really wasn’t all that difficult. chigiri had reminded you that rin as a whole, was in fact difficult. in the moment, a gesture which you continued to stand by, you had simply grinned and laughed.

once at the exhibit, you met up with the other two members of your group—barou and hiori. barou had refused to walk with the rest of you, and instead chose to leave his home early and get there first. hiori, on the other hand, had tried to walk with your group, but was driven by his parents. he’d gotten there not long after barou and it was clear by his face that he was glad to see the rest of you rather than spend more time with barou.

the check-in process was simple, considering barou had already done so for all of you. when questioned, he impolitely replied that, “you peasants wouldn’t have known how.”

isagi shrugged. “thanks?” his response led barou to roll his eyes, as the 6 of you continued inside.

as you entered the lobby, the man at the front desk got your attention as he noticed your group looking around in confusion, not knowing where to go. you quickly made your way over to him as he explained that it’d be best for your group to go up the elevator.

rin stayed quiet while you and isagi thanked the man, as your group once again looked around in confusion before the man laughed and pointed out a hallway and instructed you to make the first turn left.

following his guide, you soon made it to the elevator, one that appeared to be clear. all of you tried to get on, but the woman pressing the buttons promptly stopped barou and isagi from entering.

“my apologies, but only 4 at a time may go.” she spoke.

isagi nodded and took a step back, but it was clear he didn’t want to go on a private trip with barou. he obviously felt more than the same, and barou began fighting the notion of him pairing with isagi. hiori and chigiri quickly worked out a plan, and within a few minutes, the two of them were traveling up with barou and isagi both. thus leaving you and rin alone.

eventually, a beep sounded and you and rin were permitted on the elevator. the woman pressed a few controls and the two of you began going up.

quickly, you could have sworn that your ride was going slower than the one before. looking out at the building around soon became old, and you ended up simply looking at rin. he looked back, with much more intensity.

it looked like he was trying to burn your face into his eyes, and you hoped it wasn’t out of anger. in the meantime, you observed his dark tie and white shirt. it looked like he tied his tie himself, and it was just the slightest amount loosened. probably for free breathing, you assumed.

without realizing, you ended up stepping closer, your eyes now focused on his instead of on his tie. taking notice, rin moved in the same way, just a bit closer.

taking the lessened instance into account, you smiled while his face softened as the both of your faces began heating up. based on your reactions, you and rin quickly realized your intentions aligned.

upon the clearly-slowed elevator reaching the top, it appeared that everyone pretended not to take notice of your shared messy hair, rin’s even looser tie, and your wrinkled jacket. at least, you chose to ignore the disgusted stare from barou, and chigiri’s knowing smirk.

though, not much could have made rin’s heart drop faster then isagi musing aloud, “i wonder if that glass was one way, or fully see through.”

suffice to say his face stayed relatively flushed for the reminder of the visit.

a/n: only after finishing did I realize how little dialogue i wrote 😭