#lilac's late night talks ✧

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋjealousy, jealousyღ

pairing: boyfriend!megumi x reader

summary: after overhearing a conversation, you get seriously annoyed with megumi. he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags: fem!reader, assumptions, kissing, pet names, one phrase from jjk270, cursing, she/her pronoun use, no proofread

wc: 1k

after a hard day, you decided to get some milkshakes for you and your boyfriend. you'd looked all around for him, finally hearing his voice down a hallway. you saw him and called out to him.

“megum–”

“when shall we have the ceremony?” hana mused, clapping her hands. a moment of silence passed in the hallway, both you and megumi shared the same expression of disbelief. he turned and noticed your presence, reaching a hand out.

“[na–]”

you walked off before he could finish, leaving him with an embarrassed hana who had realized she'd jumped the gun.

but before she had the chance to apologize, he went after you. you were leaving, quickly. going to find your car and ditch this place, arms crossed and annoyed.

was it probably nothing? yes, but why would she even say that?? it pissed you off to no avail.

you sipped on your milkshake in annoyance, throwing it out in the nearest trash can to you. the taste was ruined and now sour like your mood.

the sound of megumi's' footsteps behind you made you rush to get the keys out of your purse quicker, unlocking the door with antsy hands. you slip in, only to realize you got in the passenger seat out of habit.

you cursed in silence as he slid into the driver’s seat besides you, rolling your eyes at the hand on your thigh. “whatever you heard, it's not what you think.”

“mhm.” you stared out the window, letting him take the keys out of your hands to start the ignition and the a.c, your car just got so hot. “baby, it wasn't like that.”

“sure it wasn't.”

he groaned in frustration, still holding your thigh as you felt his green eyes on you. “look at me.”

“why? need advice for your ceremony? i'd be great flower girl.” he palmed his face, annoyance evident in his features. “it wasn't like that and you know it.” you turned on the radio, not wanting to hear his excuses. but that honestly just pissed you off more. changing through the channels, it seemed everything just sought to make you mad.

“(jealous), just leave me alone, (jealous), just leav–”

“toss your dirty shoes in my–”

“yo no soy celoso, ¿pero quie–”

“i need to get her out the picture, she's really fuckin–”

you turned it off, the sound of the fan the only thing you heard. your eyes were closed but you could feel him looking at you. his hands moved to grab yours. he spoke gently. “are we gonna talk now?”

“maybe.”

“she got the wrong idea babe, i don't– i don't even think of a future without you, let alone talk about it with someone else when it doesn't involve us.”

“but why didn't you say anything?” you opened your eyes now, facing him as you pouted. “you shouldn't have even entertained the idea.”

he tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help the smile that spread out across his face. you just looked so cute while you were trying to be angry, like a mad bunny stomping it’s feet. “i didn't, i walked after you right after. i didn't even look at her, just at you. always you.” the smile of his face had to be hidden under his other hand, you were so annoyingly pretty.

“really?” your eyes were glossy as you looked over to him.

“really.” your faces inched closer, megumi leaning in first. your lips meet in a sweet kiss, the tension and jealousy fading as you melt into him. his arms wrapped around you, caging you into him.

your hands found themselves around his neck, deepening your kiss. the both of you could almost taste your desire for each other. well, he could taste the flavor of your milkshake, but that was besides the point. as his hand moved up to cup your face, tapping your jaw to wordlessly ask for permission, you tilted your head and let him in.

as if memorizing the cavern of your mouth, he explored it. you tasted so sweet, you felt so sweet against his hands too.

he finally pulled away. “mine.” he whispered in between kisses, “m’ all yours.” chaste kisses were peppered on your face, making you laugh and hit his chest.

you both were breathless at the end of it, faces dusted with pink. his pupils had hearts in them, holding your hand tightly with a soft smile over his face. “it really was nothing, i promise.”

“i know.. sorry.”

“id be mad too if someone said that to you, don't worry too much.” he kissed your forehead, before having a moment of realization.

the car felt hot, yes it was because you just had a romantic moment together, but it was also because you didn't have tinted windows. meaning,

“babe.”

“what?”

“i think.. everyone just saw us right now.”

your eyes widened. “you're.. holy shit you're right! drive megumi drive!”

you rushed him and simultaneously you covered your face. sorcerers, people, and in particular yuuji, nobara, hana, and gojo were jaw dropped outside the car. gojo had a hand over his heart.

“well, at least nobody will hit on either of us, right?

…i'll be quiet.”

“that's for the best.”

[strawbeerossi]

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer is awake late at night while you're peacefully asleep. That's when he's reminded about a few little agreements you've had.

Content/Warnings: Course language, brief masturbation (m), consensual somnophilia, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie.

Word Count: 1.3K

Kinktober Day Seventeen: Somnophilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer spent his time at work more often than not, which you understood how important his job was to him. You’d known the inside and out of the job and all the darkness hidden within it, so you always gave an overwhelming amount of love and support. There was a lot of patience and trust placed within one another, your husband knowing that you were always going to be there for him and that he should show he would always be there for you as well. You never expected anything big out of him after cases, just willing to hold him and let him cry into your shoulder if the cases were overwhelming for him. 

It had been three days since Spencer was home from one of his cases, the both of you laying in bed alongside one another as the both of you were looking forward to a good night's sleep. Spencer wasn’t getting much of it though, his head against his pillow while your soft breaths from peaceful sleep filled the room. With an arm behind his head, the male sighed in frustration. Insomnia hit him hard on nights like this one, when you fell asleep first and couldn’t exactly hold him due to you being dead to the world. 

He had contemplated reading, however he knew the light would wake you up and irritate you. He definitely didn’t need a cranky version of you being angry at him for the remainder of the night and even the next day. So, he reverted back to his usual ways of making himself tired. His hands were slowly pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers as he let his eyes flutter shut. Thankfully for eidetic memory, he could practically watch any past sexual encounter with you in his head like a dirty movie. Right now, he had a specific night in mind. 

You’d been desperate and he was asleep, due to a previous talk of boundaries and consent for certain actions, you decided to try something new. He could remember his eyes slowly blinking open and being met with your face twisted with ecstasy, hands resting against his chest as your desperate and leaking cunt was embracing his cock while your hips were feverishly rutting against his. It showed how much you needed him, even getting to the point where you fucked him as he slept just to not disturb his sleep.

Just the mere thought of your tits in clear view of his gaze had Spencer letting out a low groan. He was fully erect now, his hand fisting at his cock as he let his mind continue replaying the same moments that so graciously flooded his brain. He’d continued with his movements before glancing over at you, the moonlight seeping in from the drapes shining against your sleeping silhouette. It gave him an idea, one that sent another rush of blood to his cock as he was slowing his movements with his hand. Gently tugging the duvet and sheets back, he was looking over your body.

You were wearing a silk lilac nightgown, one of his favorites. It was like you did this on purpose, as if you knew your husband would have an insomnia spell. With his hand coming up to his mouth, he was popping two of his fingers into his mouth as he was scooting towards you more. His free hand was sliding under the tempting nightgown, his hand slowly tugging down your panties as he kept his gaze on you. He wanted to see how long he could drag this out without waking you. After getting the cloth barrier out of his way, Spencer was using one of the slick fingers to slowly push into your cunt. The touch had your sleeping form let out a breath, the long digit being welcomed as your walls were squeezing around it. 

He slowly thrusted his finger, a soft groan leaving his lips as you were responding well, probably having your dream taking a sharp turn as he was fucking you with his pointer finger. Your arousal was starting to coat his finger, the male smirking as he gently pushed in a second finger, a moan now falling out of your lips as you were shifting in place. The way your sleeping face twisted in ecstasy had your husband grinning as he pressed a few kisses along your shoulder. As his fingertips were brushing against the spongy button deep inside of you,your body was reacting accordingly as your thighs clenched around his hand, still assuming this was a dream as you were rocking your hips against his fingers. 

“Poor desperate girl..” Spencer whispered while continuing to prod your needy cunt with the two long digits. Whenever he’d had enough waiting though, he’d carefully pulled his fingers out of your hole before bringing them up to his lips to clean your essence off of them.

There were desperate whines escaping your lips at the feeling of emptiness, your hips attempting to rock back. “Shh, I know.” Spencer murmured in your ear, one hand gently lifting one of your legs, his free hand helping adjust his cock at your leaking hole that was clenching around nothing. As the thick tip of his throbbing cock was slowly pushing into your warmth, you were letting out a breathy moan in your sleeping state, hand instinctively reaching back to grip at the back of your husband’s head as you were both still in the spooning position. 

As your pussy swallowed his cock whole, he was letting his lips press a few kisses against your neck as he was slowly letting his hips rut into yours. Now it only took a few good strokes before you were blinking awake, hand lightly pulling at the curls that you had a handful of. “Good morning to you too.” You whispered, drowsiness in your voice as you were moving to rock your hips back against his.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He murmured against your skin, hand moving to squeeze your hip. “Was jerking off and then i remembered that your sweet pussy would be waiting for me.” He lightly bit down on the flesh of your neck that made a moan fall from your parted lips. “Mm, I’m not complaining. I love being stuffed with your cock.” The filthy words leaving your lips had your husband groaning, head lifting. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” He spoke through pants and whines, his thrusts speeding up as his hand was wrapping around your body, large hand taking one of your tits into his hand before giving a rough squeeze. 

As the rhythmic sound of your skin smacking against one another filled the room along with your combined sounds of pleasure, it hadn’t been long until you could feel Spencer’s hand trail between your legs, finger finding your clit with ease as he massaged the desperate bud. He was close and you were too.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You spoke through moans, his hips thrusting snapping harder into yours as he nodded. “M-me too.” He’d stated the obvious, working to bring you to orgasm first. The feeling of your walls tightly clenching around him was enough to make his cock twitch inside of you before painting your inner walls with ribbons of his cum, hips slowly coming to a stop. 

After he was pulling out of you, he couldn’t help but lift the sheets to look at your cunt, which had been stuffed with his cum to the point where it was leaking down your thighs. “We should get you cleaned up. Plus you have to pee.” He panted, moving to rub your hip while tugging back the sheets for you to get up. “I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?” You’d asked, legs wobbling slightly as you stood from your shared bed. 

You didn’t have to ask him twice, the male sliding out of bed before he was heading over to pick you up with a smile. “Not too long though,” He began, a yawn now falling from his lips.

“I’m ready to pass out.”

[readychilledwine]

Extramarital Escape pt 2

Rhysand Week Day 7 Free Day

Summary - Being Nyx's nanny came with many perks. You just didn't expect an affair to be one of them.

Warnings - affairs, reader using Azriel with his consent, manipulation, power dynamics, fxmxf, yearning, choking, mental foreplay

A/n - happy day 7 of @officialrhysandweek! I am going to apologize now, I promised smut and while this original did have smut the idea of reader falling into bed with Feyre without Rhysand before the big 3some popped into my mind and there was just *something* about it. I'm weighing it. Be prepared discord friends.

Part 1

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

You were playing a dangerous game and Rhysand, had he not had some semblance of self control, would have killed Azriel for what he walked upstairs to.

Azriel had you against the wall. One of his hands rested on your hip, his other forearm against the wall. His face was far too close to yours. Smirk far too playful as he whispered something that had you blushing and nodding with wide eyes.

You had been avoiding Rhysand. Avoiding Feyre. Only showing up to handle your duties as Nyx's nanny, then leaving for the night in the arms of whichever of Rhysand's brothers arrived to fly you back to the House of Wind. Lately, it has been Azriel. Consistently Azriel.

Rhysand wasn't a controlling male. You could have friends, be free if you so made the choice to be, but avoiding him all together? That's where a line was crossed.

“Don't you two have work to be doing?” You and Azriel jumped apart and the spymaster simply kissed your palm before disappearing. Before you could so much as move, Rhysand had you, arms held behind your back as he walked you into his study and warded it.

The tension between you two was thick. It seemed to have a life of it's own, choking you, straining him. “You have been avoiding me,” his tone had grown soft. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I told you I didn't want to do this anymore-”

“And I told you the expectations of your job,” he stated. “This one was non-negotiable.” He hated the way you set your jaw so firm. The way you glared at him. He hated that you couldn't feel the strained bond. The way he and Feyre ached for you.

This situation was rare in their world. Practically unheard of. He'd searched every book, every legend, hell, he had gone through children's stories. Nothing explained this bond. This rarity he and Feyre had been blessed with.

“You have also been avoiding Feyre,” he moved closer to you, taking in the soft scent that clinged to your skin. “I understand your anger with me, but my mate has done nothing wrong.”

Honey and roses. Soft, feminine. He missed your scent. How it added a layer of complexity to the scent of lilac and sea salt that followed him and Feyre.

You crossed your arms, “How am I supposed to look her unt he eye when her husband has been fucking me behind her back?”

“Fucking you,” Rhysand thought to himself. He would hardly describe what you two did as strictly fucking. He spent hours licking every inch of you. He'd spend days between your legs if you let him, savoring every noise, every kiss, every whimper of his name. He'd been rough with you at times, taking you the way Feyre enjoyed the most, but predominantly, he made love to you. Slow, gentle, talking you through as you fell apart. He felt the way that made your soul glow. He felt the way being held so tenderly made your mind fall silent.

He'd only realized he had yet to respond to you when the door opened, Feyre walking in with several sets of earring in her hands.

It was girls night and you immediately clocked how she looked absolutely exquisite. Her flowy two piece outfit highlighted how perfect she was, the shade of powder blue complimenting her skin tone every way. The top ended just above her belly button, the sweetheart neckline dipping to preview just enough of her chest. The pants were baggy but tight around the ankles with the slit running from ankle to the waistband. “Ah perfect, two of my favorite fae to pick my earrings,” she held both options up to you and Rhysand. “I really like the idea of super simple silver.”

You moved to her, brushing the hair from her neck “How did you plan to wear your hair? Because down means simple studs, up is an excuse to wear those really pretty dangly ones.”

Rhysand watched the two of you so closely, hiding his realization that he and Feyre had made an error in their game plan. You two fit. The subtle flirtation, the touches that lingered for longer than they needed to. They had calculated for you to be easily seduced by him, that'd you'd fall for him.

It should have been a blow to his self-esteem when he watched as you helped her put the diamond studs in, hand lingering in her hair for just a moment. “How truly blessed we are to have such a beautiful High Lady,” you hand lingered in that strand of hair before you walked away, a blushing Feyre standing there in your absence.

“We made a miscalculation, Feyre Darling,” Rhysand purred as he took in his mate, looking her up and down as if she was his next meal. “She wants you.”

Feyre glanced at him before looking away. She was hiding something from him and not succeeding. He only had to give her a look, a brush against her mental shields as he did. “Nesta saw her and Azriel whispering very.. intimately last night in the House of Wind. She couldn't get close enough to hear what it was about, but she heard our names and Azriel telling y/n to calm down and that something was working.”

Rhysand cocked his head before laughing, “The little..” He glared towards the door you'd just left out of. “Leave her to me,” he moved to Feyre, kissing her temple. “I think I've figured out this little game.”

It was the first night in almost a month you were alone with Rhysand and would be throughout the night. You tried to focus on your current task, mindlessly folding Nyx's laundry while you hummed to yourself. Rhysand was silent as he moved behind you, hand coming to rest on your throat, “I wasn't done speaking with you earlier.”

You couldn't stop the way your eyes fluttered shut if you had wanted to, couldn't stop the way your skin broke out in chills as he held you so possessively. “You will tell me what is going on between you and Azriel. Now.”

Your breathing betrayed the even tone of your voice, “We are just close friends.” You emphasized close on purpose, earning a soft squeeze that made you gasp as your mind began to float away.

“You're lying to me, darling? So bold of you to assume you could manage that.”

His breath was by your ear, tickling your skin. You were lying to yourself pretending you didn't yearn for him. For both of them. Azriel was kind to allow you to use him the way he was. To play this game of chess with you. The problem was your version of chess was one children with no experience played. Rhysand, though, Rhysand could play with his eyes closed.

Your very pulse was enough for him to know he was winning. Enough for him to feel the very aching setting in your core. “I saw how you looked at Feyre today,” his low deep voice made you whimper, offering weakness to him like a present. “I saw how you touched her. I can give you that. Give you the ability to experience her the way you want. The way you wish.”

His hand grew a little tighter on your throat allowing that feeling of euphoria setting in as he did.

Rhysand smirked behind you, letting you enjoy the little high he was giving you before walking away leaving you suddenly.

“Rhys,” you began to protest as he ignored you. “You can't just-”

“I can,” the tone was firm and left no room for question. “I only give my affections to the very best of girls, and you, y/n have not been a good girl lately.”

That sentence would haunt you and he knew it. He knew your need to please, to be the picture perfect example of manners and politeness. Your lip trembled at the thought alone, a final sign of his power over you. “I want to be a good girl.”

“Then tomorrow night, you won't go to the House of Wind,” he moved closer again. His hand slowly trailing up your fingers and across your collarbones. “You will come to my bed tomorrow night, with Feyre, and she and I will discuss what to do with you.”

“But you.. I-”

Your stumbling was almost adorable to him, the way your eyes were wide. He grabbed your chin, pulling you into the first kiss he'd had in far too long from you. Your lips were as sweet as he remembered, a soft hint of lemon lingering from the liquor you had picked to sip for the night. “I only give my affections to good girls,” he purred against your lips again. “Are you my good girl?”

“I want to be,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his. “I'm sorry.”

“Your apology means nothing unless you fix what you've done. I've told you how you can make it up to me. To Feyre. I know you'd hate to disappoint your High Lady, wouldn't you?”

He made you nod wanting to cave to his desires and take you. He left you with one more soft kiss, “Be my good girl tomorrow night and I will give you everything you ever wanted.”

He left you then. Truly left you. Feeling alone, anxious, needy. How unfair of him to leave you like this? Longing for him. For her. You thought you could play this game as well as he did. Master the mental chess board with little issue. The idea of prolonging this, of continuing to push him, it appealed to you in the sick twisted sense of needing to know where that line was.

It didn't appeal to you the way being satisfied did. The way his hands touching you did. And his offer? To lay with him and Feyre?

Images flashed through you mind, need building more and more until it felt as though you were suffocated by your own self made frustrations. You took deep breaths, hand resting on your pounding Heart.

Your mind was made.

Tomorrow you'll be a good girl.

The best girl.

All day, you'd torture both of them by being so good they'd struggle the way you currently were, and that was one game you could always win.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f @yeonalie

Extramarital escape taglist

@wickedfelinaxo @sh4nn @justdreamstars @jesssicapaniagua @harrystylesfan2686 @slytherinindisguise @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch @sarawritestories @sinarainbows @justaboredbookworm @xcarrotxs-blog @paleidiot @nayaniasworld @fyfy-world @seasonallyapril @alhaithmss @Ilovelydove @nebarious @helloevilmuffins @fantanbietsson

[lizzy06]

Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

ab intra ✨✨💖💖by andypantsx3 (humor, eventual smut, brainwashing)when a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, pro hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What's even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.[COMPLETED]

no grave to hold my body down✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff) (oneshot, hurt/comfort) Kindness is its own superpower. Love is, too.[COMPLETED]

Jealousy✨ by @alienaiver (oneshot, fluffy banter)Shinsou wants your attention after coming home, but you are preoccupied.[COMPLETED]

 The Sports Festival✨ by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff) reader with a weather quirk faces off against shinsou in the sports festival[COMPLETED] pt 2: Parties for No One ✨by @writing-freak (oneshot, fluff)you consider approaching shinsou after the sports festival. an unlikely friendship commences. [COMPLETED]

Why aren't you scared of me? by @bakugohoex (oneshot, slight angst, fluff)in which shinso joins class 1a and whilst everybody seems to be scared of him out of fear he’ll use his quirk, you try to befriend the boy and he develops feelings as soon as you talk to him.[COMPLETED]

Diary by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff)Shinsou finds your diary where you’ve written way too much about him. Good thing he feels the same way.[COMPLETED]

Speechless by @alaskamonsters (oneshot, first meetings)[COMPLETED]

18 by @songbirdsingingthings (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) .[COMPLETED]

how to start an office romance✨ by animepseud (multipurposeroom) (fluff, humor, angst, slowburn)When a serial killer shows up to terrorise the neighbourhood, who do you call? According to the neighbourhood, not Shinsou.is there a better time to pursue romance than in the midst of a serial killing investigation?[COMPLETED]

Friendly Reminders & Math Equations✨ by kingyohno (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)What one person writes on their skin also appears on the skin of their soulmate. Reader is forgetful and Shinsou is bored. Awkwardness ensues.[COMPLETED]

lilac eyes | shinsou x reader✨ by personb (strangers to lovers, fluff, angst)You just wanted to live for one night at a party with Jirou, though it seemed your night was going to be far more eventful than you anticipated. And you welcomed it, well him at least, with open arms. And to be fair he was very, very hot.[COMPLETED]

Your name on my skin✨  by  @dira333 / Fogfire (oneshot, soulmate au, )What your soulmate writes appears on your skin.[COMPLETED]

Two mind related quirk users walk into a train  ✨ ✨ by  wotefokizbrunch (oneshot, mindreader! reader, humor)When Shinso is sleep deprived his inner monologue just rambles non-stop and you, being a mindreader, find it hilarious.[COMPLETED]

Heart & Mind ✨ by orphan_account (oneshot, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)You have trouble finding a sparring partner because of your Quirk. Few are willing to have their emotions manipulated, after all.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Sight by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff, coffee shop au, love at first sight) Even though Shinso knows better, some part of him still wants to believe it’s possible–that there’s a single person in the world made for him, and they’re lounging about in the coffee shop he works at.[COMPLETED]

Just Say It by @sunnieskies02 (oneshot, soulmate au, hanahaki disease, slight angst with happy ending) [COMPLETED]

Show Me by hunnybby(oneshot, crush, fluff, humor) Shinsou Hitoshi's classmate just won't leave him alone. If she wanted to know his quirk so bad then she should have paid attention.[COMPLETED]

We Really Need To Stop Meeting Like This by spicyNess (oneshot, tooth rooting fluff, crush)The more you bumped into him, the more you wanted to.[COMPLETED]

Late Night Visits by candlelight27 (oneshot, college au, fluff, smut, idiots in love)A not-so-innocent game of truth and dare and all your conspiring friends might give you an opportunity to sort out the feelings you have for your best friend, Hitoshi Shinsou.[COMPLETED]

 Heroes Together by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff)after growing up close friends with shinsou, you are forced to move away and leave your home behind. years later, you return, reunited with the best friend who doesn’t seem to remember you. [COMPLETED]

In All Honesty by Avistella (oneshot, fluff)People have always been wary of talking with Shinsou, but not you. When you start distancing yourself from him, Shinsou becomes worried.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate kisses and Catpuccinos by HydrangeaPartridge (coffee shop au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut)In which you are an accident prone-waitress in a cat café where Pro Hero MindJack (aka Shinso Hitoshi) likes to spend time. How will your relationship evolve through the four seasons of one year?[COMPLETED]

[canhearitonthewayhome]

imgonnagetyouback

author's note: hiiiiii! this could potentially be a series if people like it. I have never written anything before and I did not proofread very carefully + wrote this super late at night. there seems to be a ton of lore in this part to set the vibe. let me know what you think! I am new to tumblr but I am pretty sure my asks/requests are open as well! ok byeee xoxo

word count: 2.3k

i. lilac short skirt

September, 2023

The sound of various playlists had been echoing down the hall and into your poorly insulated room for the past few hours. However, it was silent in your room, as your normally steady hand was shakily applying a final coat of mascara to your lashes. You sighed as you twisted the wand back into the tube, tossed it in your yet-to-be-organized drawer, and ran your fingers through your hair. Gazing at your reflection, you grew frustrated. It was your senior year at UConn, you had just moved all of your things back into Husky Village with the rest of your closest sorority sisters, and everything was on track to go perfect for the year. You had just received your LSAT scores back, and they were better than what you had initially anticipated, ensuring you an acceptance at your law school of choice when looked at in combination with your perfect GPA. There was only one thing missing, and it was the one thing you had never imagined you would be without. Her.

Attempting to make it through syllabus week seemed nearly impossible on Monday, but you had managed. The entire week felt like going through the motions. Your routine in Storrs, CT, had been the same for nearly the last three years and you hadn’t realized how difficult revisiting the familiar places on campus would be for your healing process. Honestly, you were just thankful to have not seen her yet, but you knew the odds of running into her tonight were more likely than not; Paige. 

On that note, you opened your nightstand drawer. You had been doing so well in regulating your grief, but you couldn’t help the tear that threatened to escape when you gently picked up the polaroid of the two of you from last Fall. Both of you in unintentionally matching sweatsuits, you sat on her lap at a bonfire party. She had a blanket wrapped around herself sitting in a lawn chair, with her arms wrapping around you. You had flashed your biggest smile for the camera, a natural blush showing on your cheeks as a result from the butterflies your then-girlfriend gave you as you cuddled into her, but Paige wasn’t looking at the camera. She wore a soft smile while looking only at your bright face. It was the kind of look she reserved only for you, as if no one else was capable of evoking that same action from her. The polaroid was slightly worn, as it used to sit in the back of your phone case. Now, it resides permanently in your nightstand as the sight of it makes your stomach churn with the harsh reality of her absence, but throwing it away made the realness of the situation seem too permanent. 

You were brought back to reality with two gentle knocks on the door. You didn’t have time to hide the tear from earlier that had made its way down your cheek before your best friend, Hazel, had entered. She quickly shut the door behind her, and her big smile turned into a look of concern as she noticed the object between your fingers. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, but I just want you to know we don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to. We can call food in and binge watch a show? We only have one year left together so I don’t have a problem doing that instead”, she quickly babbled out. You could tell she had probably had a few with your sorority sisters down the hall at how quickly she had been talking and the flush of her face. “No”, you said. “I have to deal with this eventually, and I can’t spend the whole year feeling sorry for myself. Let’s have fun tonight!” you smiled. You knew that Paige had more than likely moved on in more ways than one and there was no sense in making yourself miserable any longer. You had your girls, and that was all you needed. “Can you help me pick out an outfit?” you asked your seemingly convinced best friend. “Yes!” she shrieked, b-lining it to your closet. You placed the polaroid back in your nightstand and shut the drawer while she rummaged through your freshly unpacked closet. 

You felt the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as she started holding out options on her own body, tossing things aside she found unfit for the evening. You were thankful for the friendship you had made in your Introduction to Criminal Justice class you had taken your first semester at UConn. Hazel had taken a seat next to you on the first day and since then, you had been pretty much inseparable. You found yourself being literally snapped back to reality again with her loud laugh. “What are you smiling at? That was a quick mood change”. You shook your head as you told her, “I am just thankful for you. I don’t know how I would’ve made it these three years and especially the last few months without you”. She just shook her head and turned back around to make her final selection before tossing her choice onto your bed and making her way towards the door. Before she let it shut she added, “Thank me by putting that on and enjoying yourself. You deserve it. I’m gonna go grab you a drink and some shots. You need them. When I’m back, be ready to head out!” 

You giggled feeling excited for the first time in a while. It was short lived as you looked onto your bed to change into the outfit she had picked out. The lilac short skirt she had selected paired with a simple white baby tee had been the exact outfit you wore out to the same bar you were heading to the first night you had met and spent with her, with Paige. 

September, 2021

Cramming yourself into Ted’s, you could feel the tequila sodas you had lost count of coursing through your veins. You had just finished your second syllabus week, the stress of recruitment, and getting ready for the exciting year ahead. Per usual greek-life tradition, the girls in your pledge class were taking some of the newly joined girls out to celebrate their bids, the start of their new college life, and to have a good time. Standing at only 5 '2 you held Hazel’s hand as she effortlessly guided you through the crowd to a somewhat-empty area for you all to conjoin at. You stood on your tiptoes to make sure no one was left behind before turning to Hazel. “Let’s go get some shots for everyone!”

 As you turned around, you bumped into a much taller figure, spilling their drink all over the floor. You felt your cheeks get hot with embarrassment and a ramble of apologies were already leaving your mouth as you looked up from where the pink liquid and ice cubes were, “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I am so clumsy I can’t believe…”, you found yourself at a loss for words as you made eye contact with the girl. She was tall, and had to be at least 6’0. She had a skinnier build, but you could see the faint lines of proven muscle definition in her arms as she tucked loose hair behind her ears. She had a wide smile, without showing any teeth form and her eyes creased as she saw your expression. “Hey, don’t worry about it! It’s crowded in here!” she laughed. You were thankful for her nonchalant reaction, but it didn’t make the guilt you felt any better for spilling her pretty much full drink. “Do you think I could buy you another to make up for it? Please, it’s the least I could do. I don’t mean that in a creepy “I’m trying to get with you way”, but more a “I feel like a dumbass and am really embarrassed way”. Not that I don’t think that you're hot and wouldn’t get with…” you groaned as you cut yourself off again, hand covering your eyes as you made yourself cringe. You heard a light laugh, “It’s all good. Sure, you can buy me a drink. I’m Paige, by the way. Paige Bueckers”. As you looked up at her again, you saw her grin had grown into a gummy smile, holding out her hand to shake yours. 

After introducing yourself, Paige led you to the bar with ease, given her height. After thinking she had lost you in the crowd the first time, she extended her hand backwards, offering her pinky for you to hold. You hope she didn’t notice the way your face lit up as you accepted her simple gesture, trying not to read too far into how romantic it felt. You had literally just met the girl, but had never felt so instantly comfortable with someone in your life. Paige let you buy her drink you had spilt, but refused to let you pay for the next few rounds, your drinks included. You had talked about everything, covering where you guys were from, discovering your same ages, learning she was on the women’s basketball team, and you being overly invested in your academics. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed till you felt your phone buzz and saw the time on your lockscreen, 12:45 a.m.

Hazel Crawford <3

Girl, are you good? I haven’t seen you since you said you were going to the bar.

10:03 p.m.

I see you. Omg, are you hanging out with Paige Bueckers???

10:45 p.m.

I cannot wait to hear about this tomorrow.

11:30 p.m.

I am headed back home. I didn’t want to interrupt you guys or make you feel like you needed to come home. Love you, be safe, and text me when you leave!

11:49 p.m.

Paige must’ve noticed your change in demeanor. “Is everything okay?” she asked. You quickly sent a response to Hazel telling her you were safe and would let her know when you got home. “Yes, of course. I just came here with friends and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. They were worried about me, but they all have gone home now” you replied sheepishly. “Well, are you ready to head out? I can walk you home if you’d like” she said as you stood up. You were pulling down your too-short lilac skirt down as you grabbed your things. “No, no. You don’t have to do that! I have already taken up so much of your night. I’m sorry again -” you felt yourself being cut off again as she grabbed your hand that was holding your phone and purse. She looked you intently in the eyes as she said, “I would really like to walk you home if that’s okay with you”. You couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face again as you led her towards the door. “Okay, Bueckers, let’s go home then”, you grinned. 

You can’t remember everything that you and Paige talked about on your way home, but you do remember the constant giggling, the way she swung your interlocked hands like you were just two kids, and the way she held the door open for you as you walked into your building. “This is me” you slowed, as you reached the door to your single dorm. “Do you want to come in?” you offered, feeling a little bold. Paige smiled before taking your other hand in hers. Holding them both she responded, “I would love to but I have practice in the morning and am already out way later than I should have been, but I didn’t want to say goodbye to the prettiest girl in the bar”. You felt your face grow hot as what must have been the millionth time of the night. It had only been a couple hours and you knew this girl was going to be the death of you. You had a feeling she might be thinking the same of you. She took one of her hands holding yours and placed it on the side of your face, stroking your cheek before saying just above a whisper, “I’m really sorry if this is forward, but I really want to kiss you and -”. This time it was you cutting her off as you stood on your tippy toes to close the gap between the two of you. Your hands moved around her neck and her free hand moved to your waist, holding you gently as if you were porcelain but firm enough so that you couldn’t melt away from her. You could’ve stayed that way for hours, but when you both finally pulled apart to catch your breath, it felt like time had frozen. Paige pecked your lips one more time before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Goodnight, pretty girl”. With that, she turned around and made her way down the hall. As you shut the door behind you you couldn’t help the butterflies that exploded in your chest. 

The next morning, you had woken up a bit panicked as you realized you had never gotten the tall blonde’s number, or knew where she lived. As you threw a sweatshirt on to head to Hazel’s room to debrief the night before’s events, you shut the door behind you. There you found an envelope freshly taped to your door, what must’ve been just an hour or so earlier. You quickly took the note and opened up to a phone number and a small note saying, “I hope you let me see you soon, Pretty Girl”. You beamed to yourself before running down the hall to Hazel’s room.

[torasplanet]

❝𝙔𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙊𝙉𝙎.ᐟ❞

K. RYUGUJI + F. READER + T. MITSUYA

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; its the year of the dragon and a celebration occurs for taka and kenny from their personal red envelope;)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, final timeline, kenny is ur bf (srry emma..), threesome, praise, dp(double penetration), anal, petnames(baby, babydoll), reader wears dress, unprotected sex (i really need to write protected damn😭), spit as lube, idk pretty vanilla and skin color not mentioned

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; ik this is so late from new years but i got this idea from a tiktok like five days after new yrs haha so this is a lunar new yr special since i celebrate !!

It was a new year, new feelings, new resolutions, new everything! And of course, the entirety of your friend group just had to throw a big ass party with you being one of the many that planned it and of course, the one to make it actually look good and not just a bunch of non-matching decorations being thrown across the room like Mikey and Baji were going to.

Well, Mitsuya was a part of that too and you two worked together to decide the perfect color coordination for the party which is where these new feelings came in. See, Mitsuya has always been attractive; you could never deny that, no one could but something just changed.

He was looking better than usual but you couldn’t find anything about his appearance that physically changed to make him look better. It was like he started glowing for some unusual reason and the glow made him prettier. Of course, you felt bad for finding him so attractive recently because you were dating Draken, his best friend.

However, when thinking about it, you started to feel a little less awful for your feelings because you remembered that Draken had talked about wanting a threesome multiple times but never came up with someone to do it with. He thought Mikey wouldn’t do it and it’s not like he exactly wanted him to because Mikey tended to just sleep around instead of getting in relationships so…it’s self-explanatory. Takemichi obviously couldn't do it, he’s married and Chifuyu damn sure would not, he has too much respect for Draken and you to even be comfortable in that conversation.

Anyone else was off the table for him and for you but neither of you ever considered Mitsuya. Maybe if you brought him up or hinted toward that, Draken might say yes.

The third person in this threesome being Mitsuya made so much sense. You knew him so well and you guys were close, he and draken were extremely close even sharing a tattoo and he was such a gentleman meaning he’d treat you with the utmost respect which was a big thing Draken was worried about. He was also single so there was a chance he’d say yes.

The only problem was that…you just didn’t know how to approach your boyfriend about all of this. So you spent the whole party talking and not saying a word about this while also sneaking peeks at Mitsuya throughout the night and with the more you were around Senju (she kept passing her blunt to you and doing shots with you), the more you got sloppy with the looks.

When Izana suggested that they take this party to Ran and Rindou’s club, you were so quick to agree as you wanted to party but yet, you were at the bar staring at Mitsuya while babysitting a cup that Senju had given you to hold before running off which you were taking small sips at because she obviously wasn’t coming back being too busy throwing ass on some guy.

You stared at the lilac-haired male as he chatted with Baji, your thighs clutching close together at the sight of him but when you felt eyes on you causing you to shift your gaze, you got incredibly embarrassed making eye contact with Draken especially when he grinned at you.

Turning your head and instead focusing on the liquid in the cup. Your face heated up when you heard his loud footsteps even over the loud music hoping he didn’t see that but oh he did. Draken had seen all of the glances you gave to Mitsuya no matter if they were careless or an attempt at being secretive and he kind of knew what you were thinking. He hoped he knew and it wasn’t just a guess that happened to be wrong.

His long arm draped around your shoulder and he pulled your body to his “Hey baby, you okay?” Draken asked. The strong smell of his signature cologne filled your nose while you avoided eye contact with him at all costs so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment and neediness in your eyes “Yeah…just waiting for Senju.” You muttered hoping he wouldn’t pick up on everything and just the weirdness.

Draken grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him with ease making your thighs quake. He stared at you for a second before grinning. He had discovered your thoughts.

“Looks like she’s gon’ be a while baby. Wanna come over there with me?” Draken asked laughing gesturing his head over to the spot in the club he was just at with Mikey and Baji but you just looked away from his eyes laughing a little with him while shaking your head but you didn’t say anything so the conversation went silent as soon as the laughter stopped.

Was this the time to ask Draken about it? Or were you just high and a little drunk? Well, you were definitely that but what if it was both? Nothing would happen…Draken would never judge you especially not about something like this that you’ve talked about before so what’s the harm? He already saw the want in your eyes.

You glanced back over at Mitsuya before looking back up at Draken “You and Takashi have the same tattoo, right?” Yeah, Draken definitely knew what you were thinking now that you had said that.

You knew the answer to that question and you were just asking that to bring up the topic of Mitsuya nonchalantly “Yeah, baby you know that.” Draken said with another chuckle coming from his mouth dropping his hand from your chin as you shuffled in place as if there were a fire in your pants. Your gaze was on your feet which were strained from the straps of your heels then you looked up at Draken through your eyelashes still keeping your head down.

“So, you guys doing anything special after this? I mean, it’s the year of the dragon now…” You said knowing that if Mitsuya had overheard it, he would’ve commented that the Chinese Lunar Year isn’t celebrated until February but it was basically the same. He would know what you mean. “No, you had an idea or somethin’?” The black-haired male asked leaning down to get closer to you as if he couldn’t hear you over the loud music but he could, he just wanted to hear whatever you said loud and clear. Shrugging your shoulders as you put your lips to the cup sipping at it minorly just to conceal your face from your boyfriend more “Maybe a party.” You muttered into the cup but Draken heard you and grinned. Draken understood not only what you were talking about but what your mindset was. Bringing up such a nasty topic as a gift for the Lunar New Year while wearing a red dress.

You were going to be the red envelope given to the two dragons. Whether you did it on purpose or not didn’t matter because it still meant the same and Draken liked it.

His hand went to the small of your back and began to rub over it gently “Gonna plan it for me, baby?” You nodded almost immediately putting the cup down so you could look at draken better to make sure he truly got what you were getting at. “Think Mitsuya would like that?” You nod. “Let’s ask him,” Draken said before leaning up and turning to where Mitsuya was talking with Izana. You leaned closer to your boyfriend watching Mitsuya as he did. Draken called him over and you nearly smiled at how Mitsuya’s head turned side to side like a deer before a smile crawled onto his pink lips once he spotted Draken.

Mitsuya walked over to the two of you after excusing himself from the conversation “Baby, why don’t you tell Mitsuya what you told me?” Draken said glancing down at you and then back at his best friend whose lavender gaze traveled to your form waiting for you to talk. “Well…I thought that since you and Kenny both have dragon tattoos, you both should have a party for the new lunar year.” You said as loud as you could manage without anyone out of the conversation hearing. Mitsuya’s eyes showed intrigue and a bit of confusion.

He picked up on your demeanor. How you looked at him, the way you leaned into Draken with your legs pressed against each other. Mitsuya couldn’t describe it at all but he just knew…something was going on with you but he wasn’t sure what it was just yet. You pushed yourself off Draken and then trodded over to the black and purple-haired male. You pressed your hand on his right temple, running your hands through his hair “Yours is on this side isn’t it?” You questioned blinking at Mitsuya who grinned at your actions. Mitsuya looked toward Draken as if asking if this was alright or not but when he saw the identical grin on his friend’s face, he knew that this was okay. More than okay.

“Yeah.” Mitsuya replied simply and you smiled at him before going to sip at your cup once more but Mitsuya’s hand went to the cup preventing you from drinking the liquid inside of the cup “Think you’ve had enough princess. We want you to at least stay standing.” The man said with a small chuckle and Draken laughed too but he was different. Mitsuyas was a laugh to lighten the mood despite that not being needed whilst Draken’s was malicious as if there was a hidden dirty joke in that sentence. There wasn’t but it could’ve been.

Draken’s hand snaked down to your bottom just letting his large palm rest there. “Well, we want you standing before the party.”

You and the two guys wasted no time at all hoping in Draken’s car and going to your shared apartment. They didn’t want their girl to sit there being so needy all night, did they? “Ah, Kenny.” You moaned into Draken’s ear as his cock stretched you out but he wasn’t moving. It bothered you so much but you’d get what you wanted just as soon as Mitsuya did.

“Don’t forget about me, princess,” Mitsuya said coming up from behind you and placing his cold hands on your bare shoulders while his chest pressed against your back, you whimpered at his touch but nodded. One of Mitsuya’s hands wandered down to your cunt which was being split open by Draken’s fat cock and he began to draw circles onto your clit making your back arch away from Mitsuya and Draken’s large hands held onto your torso to stop you from collapsing onto him “Ever fucked her in here?” Mitsuya asked bringing his other hand down to gently grope at your ass.

“Nah, she’s too sensitive for that,” Draken said pecking your lips lightly as you moaned submissively in a low voice and Mitsuya beamed delivering a light slap to your clit before allowing Draken’s fingers to replace his “Yeah, you’ll probably split her in half. I’ll be gentle don’t worry.” Mitsuya cooed into your ear before pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. You didn’t respond and just whined again pressing your butt against his pelvis.

Mitsuya’s hands went to your ass and he spread your cheeks revealing your untouched hole. He spat on his fingers before rubbing it all over your whole and dipping his fingers inside making your body jolt. The tip of his rock-hard cock then pressed against the hole, he didn’t push it in but it just sat there pressing against it lightly. When he gently began to push inside; your whimpers grew louder “Sh, sh, sh…I got you, princess.” He muttered soothingly as Draken moved his hips just a bit to try and distract you from the pain of being used in a different hole. Draken has always wanted to fuck you there but you could barely keep yourself together with him inside of your pussy; always complaining about how he was splitting you open when not even his whole cock was pushed inside of you. He knew that he couldn’t do anal with you because he didn’t want to see you cry but Mitsuya was just a bit smaller than him and less girthy so it’d hurt less if it were him. It’d also get you more comfortable with someone in there so then he could try.

Everyone’s winning with this night. It was…just going to take you a little pain for you to get your trophy.

Draken brought his other hand up to your face cupping your cheek as tears began to prick at your eyes “It’s okay, just relax.” He told you running his thumbprint over your cheek after brushing away the tears from your eyes “‘M trying…just so full.” You muttered feeling Mitsuya push in more and more until he couldn’t and bottomed out. He pressed gentle kisses behind your ear “Wanna adjust or want me to move?” He knew it’d be best for you to just sit there for a bit and get used to the feeling but he wanted to ask you first, it was your body after all. This is why Draken liked the idea of Mitsuya being the one to join the two of you. He was considerate of how other people felt whether or not he knew better than them. So kind…

“Mitsuya asked you a question baby,” Draken said as you tried to find your words, your brain already turning to mush. “I…I wanna move.” You muttered letting out a breath as Draken rubbed away the tears that were threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mitsuya’s chest pressed against your back as his hands moved to wander all over your body, gently brushing over your tits and his fingertips tickling your neck until they found their place on your pelvis. Mitsuya slowly began to move in and out of your ass that was getting extremely tight around him, he hissed as he rose from your skin making you shudder from the new angle. “Relax for me, baby,” Draken said continuing to circle your clit, going a bit faster so you could loosen up around Mitsuya.

“Ha…” You mewled as Mitsuya’s subtle movements made you grind against Draken who was moving his hips around. You sighed as you loosened around Mitsuya finally allowing him to take a breath, he swore you were going to end up cutting his dick off. Mitsuya’s pace slowly grew faster as his eyes fixated on your back and how it arched because of the penetration and he grinned, reaching his hand to run his fingers down your spine making your back curve into a deeper half-moon.

“Kenny…move please.” You mumbled to your black-haired boyfriend as your nails dug into his bare shoulders “Gimmie a kiss first.” Draken said with a playful smile on his face, you pouted at his demand letting out small whimpers because he wasn’t giving you what you wanted “Be a good girl, babydoll.” Mitsuya whispered into your ear and you let out small hopeless moans at that before pressing your lips to your boyfriends who swallowed your mewls and moans. As you and Draken kissed messily, he grabbed onto your torso, his hands were just above Mitsuya’s skinnier and smaller ones, and he began to thrust up into you hitting your cervix. Mitsuya’s hand that was once on your back snuck its way up to the front of your neck and he wrapped his fingers around it as you breathed heavily.

Mitsuya’s hips slapped into your ass as his pace sped up, his rhythm matched Draken’s but he was going faster. His pink lips put gentle smooches behind your ear to your cheek as you moaned in Draken’s mouth, unable to make your pathetic sounds audible. The kiss was incredibly sloppy. It was open-mouthed and drool was spilling from your mouths and running down your faces, suction noises and occasional moans were coming from the both of you which just made Mitsuya fuck into you harder enjoying how pretty you sounded. “You’re so filthy babydoll…so pretty too.” The purple-eyed male cooed to you, his eyes drifting over your shoulder to how Draken’s cock was easily disappearing and reappearing.

Draken’s cock stretched you out like it always did as he continued to fuck up into you, moving his hips once again to change the angle so he could hit your g-spot. You felt every vein rubbing against the ridges of your fleshy walls as his mushroom tip rammed into your sweet spot “Feel so good ‘round me baby.” The Ryuguji male said breaking the kiss and watching you with lidded eyes as you bounced up and down with your tongue lolling out, his eyes shifted to his friend who was losing himself in the deep depths of your and his own pleasure.

“Such a nice gift…” Draken said grabbing at one of your tits roughly and your body trembled at his additional touch of pleasure “Taka! Feels so good, want more!” You shouted grabbing hold of the other boob that was being neglected and squeezing it tightly. Mitsuya would never say this, especially not to your face, hell he was even feeling bad thinking about it but you were such a slutty girl…he loved it though. You wanted so much more of him despite having two dicks being shoved inside of both your holes.

Draken grinned at his friend “Give ‘er what she wants, huh? She ain’t gonna stop begging until you do.” He said pinching your nipple making you shout “Kenny! Bein’ mean…” Your complaints were ignored as Mitsuya had a matching grin to his dragon twin. His fingers tightened around your neck and he began to rapidly fuck into your recently deflowered hole, his bony pelvis and hips were probably going to be bruised at the end of this. “Ugh! S-So good…!” You moaned uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm coming extremely quickly.

It was gonna hit you like a fucking bus. Coming out of nowhere and coming quickly.

“Ah! Cumming! ‘M cummin! Cum with me please, please, want it so bad!” Your moans were quick and all in one breath as your mouth opened into a wide ‘O’ releasing whorish and high-pitched moans “Go ahead, we’re right behind you.” Draken said with a strained grunt as his pace quicked, his rhythm still matched with his friend’s despite this. You let your orgasm come over you as you breathed heavily and sharply as if it was your last breath on earth and it truly felt like it.

You came all over Draken as you yelped and just like he said, he was right behind you, releasing himself all in your warm hole painting the plush walls in a translucent white liquid “Shit…can I cum in?” Mitsuya asked putting his forehead on your shoulder while rutting into your ass and you nodded with a hum tiredly, Mitsuya didn’t waste a single millisecond to burst into your ass copying draken’s actions in dirting your hole and making an absolute mess of it “Wanna stay inside for a little bit…Can I?” The male behind you asked and your heart fluttered at how kind he sounded, you nodded as you collapsed onto Draken’s chest all sweaty and fucked out.

Mitsuya was really the perfect person to be with you and Draken…you guys should do this more.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[harryslittlefreakk]

harry turns 30

summary: a filthy smutty blurb about harry’s birthday 🎈💖

warnings: fluff, mostly pure smut (use of sex toys, restraints , sex ) xx

a/n: i wrote this with late night talking!rry in mind but it isn’t really specified 🙈 i can’t believe harry is 30!!!!! happy birthday to my bf !!

my masterlist can be found here 🫶🏼

“What’s all this?” Harry chuckled, looking you up and down as he stepped out of the bathroom. You were breathtaking in any moment, but as he looked over you now, laying on his bed in only a tiny lilac lingerie set and holding a miniature birthday cake, he’d gladly die right now. If this was the last thing he’d ever see, he’d go without any regrets. You were always at your most beautiful to him when you were in bed. Whether it was the soft morning light creeping in and illuminating your cute bedhair, or the last rays of evening sunshine making you look soft and cuddly, Harry was completely and utterly smitten.

He padded over to you, a gleaming smile cradled by deep dimples as he crawled to meet you in the middle of the bed. “Happy birthday,” you grinned, holding out the cake for him. There were two gold 3 0 candles on top, the flames flickering softly as he gazed over you. “Don’t have anything to wish for, got everything I’d ever want right here,” he said in the same low voice that had you weak at the knees. “Got to wish for something, baby,” you told him. He closed his eyes and blew out the candles, the hints of a smirk tugging at the corners of his pouted lips. Unbeknownst to you, Harry wished to make you his wife and the mother of his babies, to spend every birthday with you from now until the end of time. “Made one,” he smiled, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes as he looked between you and the cake.

He swiped a finger through the frosting, laughing as he wiped it down your abdomen. “Harry!” you shrieked, setting the cake on the nightstand. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down the bed until your back was flush with the duvet, before moving over you. Harry leaned down to lick at the vanilla frosting, his tongue soft and warm against your skin. His slow movements sent shivers down your spine. It was clear he was going to enjoy you tonight, his best ever birthday present.

He sucked and nipped at your skin, his mouth trailing slowly up the line of frosting. When he reached the top, Harry’s lips found yours, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his tongue. He licked electricity into your mouth, currents shooting down your spine just as they did any time he kissed you.

“Got you something else too,” you whispered against his mouth. Harry pulled back slightly and looked at you, something adorably soft in his lust-blown eyes as he wondered what else you could’ve possibly got him. You grabbed the box from under the bed, heart racing as you set it down in front of Harry. Though you knew it would all be fine with him, handing him a box of your kinkiest sexual desires had you suddenly nervous.

His eyebrows furrowed as he lifted the lid, eyes darting over the contents. A pale pink glass butt plug, a silicone bullet vibrator, birthday cake favoured lube, and one of Harry’s ties. You could actually see his cock stiffen as he looked over it all, his cock twitching in his boxers as he realised how much fun he’d have with you tonight.

“You are fuckin’ magical,” Harry purred, one hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in again. His kiss was sloppier and hungrier this time, his mouth moving mindlessly against yours as his hand reached for your pussy. His fingers trailed over the lace, passing over your mound before making contact with your entrance. He looked down, somewhat confused at the sudden warmth of your slick on his fingertips. “Crotchless panties,” you smirked, eliciting a deep groan from Harry. He found your swollen clit in seconds, rolling it between his fingers as you writhed under him.

“Turn over,” Harry panted, watching you get onto all fours with your legs spread for him. The sight of your glistening pussy had him falling apart already. He placed the vibrator in your hand, instructing you to hold it against your clit as he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your tight hole to him. You whimpered at the first vibrations, your clit already sensitive from need.

He squirted the cold lube onto you, working it into and around your tightness with one slow finger. You could barely hold yourself up, the strong vibrations and a new fullness making you writhe and shake. “Fuck, Harry,” you whimpered, hips bucking as he touched the butt plug to your hole. “Y’ready?” he asked, his voice low as he pressed a gentle kiss to your ass cheek. He wouldn’t usually move so fast, but he could see your arousal leaking out of you, coating your inner thighs. You could only moan in response, your core already tight and tingling at just the idea of being filled up in a new way.

Harry pushed the plug into you with a groan, his cock twitching violently as he leaned back to look at you. “Harry, I’m gonn-” you started, your orgasm threatening to tear through your body before he’d even properly touched you. He flipped onto his back quickly, head nudging between your legs to lick into your wet pussy. You had full body shivers, your hand knocking into your skin as you tried to hold in your climax. “Come, kitten,” Harry urged, the warmth of his breath against your pussy adding an extra layer to the insane sensations you were experiencing. That was all you needed to fall apart, a screaming cry falling past your lips as you came undone on top of Harry. He pressed a hand to yours and kept the vibrator held against your clit, lapping into your pussy to collect your juices on his tongue as you cried and moaned through your high.

Once your breathing slowed, he shut off the vibrator, throwing it off somewhere to the side. A wave of relief washed over you, your first release like a weight off your shoulders. Harry pushed you down flat, hands trailing down your back as he leaned down to press a kiss to your flushed cheek. “Doing so good for me princess,” he whispered, eyes searching yours for any sign that you needed a break. Even through fucked out and heavy eyelids, all your hungry gaze told him was that you needed infinitely more.

Harry pulled the tie from the box, grabbing both of your wrists in his free hand. He held them behind your back, wrapping the tie around them tightly. “Keep them there,” he warned. “If you move, I stop.” You nodded, whimpering as his body weight pressed against the butt plug. He landed a heavy blow on your ass cheek, smirking as he watched you hold your hands completely still, totally submissive to him.

“Good girl,” he drawled, pushing his boxers down his thighs. You heard the gentle slap of his erection hitting his belly button, his hand coming between your legs to push them open for him. Harry pushed into you hard, his cock threatening to tear you in two. You hiss at the sensation, fuller than you ever thought you could feel, both your holes completely surrendered to him.

Harry groaned as he pulled your cheeks apart, watching himself drill into you with the beautiful little plug deep in your tightness. You were so wet around him, the squelch of your juices on his cock echoing around the room. He could barely keep himself from coming, watching your cream settle at the base of his cock as he fucked into you. He pulled out of you suddenly, only his head left nudging between your swollen lips. His vision was blurred, stars and spots in his eyes as he gazed down at you, beads of sweat forming across your back. If he didn’t steady himself, he’d explode all over your walls in seconds.

Harry gathered himself, his cock twitching as his hips snapped into yours, plowing his cock back deep into your perfect cunt. He spanked you over and over as he fucked into you, his thrusts so deep you felt as if he could come out of your throat. Each blow on your cheek had you crying out, your arms practically shaking from holding them so still. “Fuckin’ perfect,” Harry groaned, grabbing at your face so he could see more of you, see the pleasure etched deep into your features. You were completely intoxicating to him, a drug who’s high he was constantly searching for. He’d never come down since the first time he fucked you, an eternal buzz.

“Gonna come Harry,” you panted, his hands grabbing a hold of your hips as he rocked into you harder, his tip rubbing against your sweet spot. You cried out through gritted teeth, your juices oozing out of your pussy to coat his thick cock. The way your walls closed around him had his eyes rolling back, his cock throbbing inside of your pussy as your hips jerked under him. You were clenched tight around him, your walls threatening to milk his cock of everything he had.

Harry let go, unable to hold himself together any longer. Your pleasure was too inviting for him, the sounds falling from your lips too filthy to ignore. He shot hot come into you, ribbons splashing against your walls as he grunted and groaned. His thrusts slowed, his grip weakening on your soft hips as he came down from his high. He untied your hands, rubbing gently at the red marks the tie had left.

Harry pulled out of you with a hiss, two quick fingers coming up to stuff the mixture of your juices back into you. His hand moved to the plug, before your tiny voice urged him to keep it in.

He smirked, collapsing next to you on the bed as his chest heaved, exhausted from such a heavy climax.

“Hey.”

“What?” you looked over at him, eyes heavy as he brushed a stray hair from your face. “I love you,” he told you, a gentle blush creeping up his cheeks. “I love you, H,” you whispered, your heart threatening to explode in your chest.

“It might be my birthday again tomorrow,” he smirked, pressing a delicate kiss to the end of your nose. “It can be your birthday every day if it means more of that,” you laughed, wrapping an arm tight around his chest.

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[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 2

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: a pre-work visit to the bank goes horribly wrong.

wc: 4.7k

tags/warnings: unhappy relationship, gun violence, bank robbery, blood, scars, stripping, pole dancing, sexual fantasy, semi-public sex, praise

author’s note: yeah he got me fucked up

They called him Spiderman.

He appeared seemingly from thin air overnight - specifically, the night you’d stayed late at the school to watch Gabriella O’Hara until her father could pick her up. They were hailing him a vigilante, a hero, an aggressor. No one could quite seem to agree on just what he was other than supernatural. Like the multiple self-titled supervillains who had taken over your city without someone to stop them, he possessed abilities no regular human was capable of. Shooting webs from his wrists, climbing walls, moving and propelling himself at unimaginable speeds. He was something unimaginable.

People theorized, over the week since his city-wide premier on shaky cellphone footage and breaking news coverings that interrupted regular shows, that he had escaped from a cage in Alchemax. How else could they explain his powers? They couldn’t. Others said he was an alien. Some said he was a fake, said that the clips that captured him beating the absolute shit out of car thieves and back alley thugs and would-be kidnappers, were all photoshopped with a fancy computer and an advanced program.

Either way, no matter where he’d come from or what he was, whether he was a do-gooder or another villain searching for glory, no one could deny that what he did was incredible.

It was too bad some people were out to get him despite what he was doing for your city.

“He’s a menace!” shouted the anchor of the news show playing in the bank’s lobby. J. Jonah Jameson’s voice brought a migraine to the front of your head, one that wouldn’t go away with just simple ibuprofen. You tried to block him out as you waited in line for a teller, attempting to focus instead on the story your boyfriend was barking in your ear on your phone. Your attempt was unsuccessful. “He’s just another villain trying to have his five minutes of glory in the sun. He’ll burn out just like all the others; Doc Ock, Kraven, the Vulture… Please, people! Wake up and take a deep breath of reality! He’s not helping the citizens of New York - he’s getting in the way of our police!” He fixed the camera with a hard, stony stare that made you look away when you saw one of his eyes twitch. What in fuck did that dude put in his cereal every morning? “Spiderman is just another villain. Give him another week, and see where he ends up.”

You felt your lips tug down as you turned away from the television and moved up in line. What a sad, pathetic city you lived in, where someone attempted to use whatever powers they had to do good and got blasted for it instead of praise. God knew New York needed all the help it could get. With the highest crime rate in the country, who would turn their nose up at what little help was offered to them?

Dickwipes, that was who.

“Hello?” shouted the voice on the other end of the phone you held up to your face. You jumped slightly and pulled it from your ear, earning yourself a few strange looks from the other people in line. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, babe,” you exhaled into the speaker. Blocking out the television and the rest of the distractions in the bank, you upped the volume on your phone. “Just kind of busy at the moment. I’m in line at the bank, and then I’ve got to catch a taxi in this fucking traffic and haul ass to work before class starts, and -”

From his end, Ferris released one of those breathy sighs that he did when he wanted you to stop speaking so that he could talk what was on his mind. You knew the sound well - well enough to shut your mouth and swallow thick. “Could’ve just said it was a bad time,” he grunted, then made the noises of switching his phone to his other ear. You recognized the sounds of his deft fingers fiddling with his guitar strings. God, it seemed like he never put that fucking thing down. A part of you suspected that if your apartment was on fire, he would run to save his instrument before you. “Listen, I’ve got practice here in a while. I’ll let you get back to whatever’s so important.”

Ignoring the pang that resounded like a thunderclap through your ribcage, you nodded your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you. “Uhm, okay.” You hesitated, then added, “Oh, before you go to practice -” you heard him sniff - “could you put away the dishes in the sink? I started the cycle this morning before I left, so it should be -”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Bye.”

“Oh, okay, bye. Lo-” Before you could finish, you heard the familiar click of the other line being hung up. You stood still for a moment, feeling a little numb at your fingers, before slowly pulling your phone from your face and pressing that bright red button to hang up your end. Trying to keep your expression neutral, you stepped forward in line as it moved.

Maybe once upon a time, you and Ferris had been happy together. Maybe… satisfied was the right word. Settled. There to fill the void when you needed someone. Saying ‘I love you’ was never a column to lean upon in your relationship; it was only mumbled under breaths during sex and rare moments when both of you were in the mood to not be so completely alone. But that wasn’t often. He was too busy with his band, spending whatever money from his gigs that he received at whatever bars he trolled when he claimed he was cleaning up after shows. You were too busy teaching your kids during the day and teasing and smiling desperate souls at night, putting lousy paychecks and crumpled tips toward keeping your rent paid and food in the pantry.

The girls at The Menagerie asked you why you didn’t leave him, kick him out of your apartment and change the locks. You couldn’t ever come up with a good reason. Maybe it was because if you did, six months of your life would be down the drain. Maybe it was because if you did, you’d be more alone than you ever had in your life.

You didn’t have anyone besides Ferris. Your parents, shit - they were a lost cause. The girls at the club all had separate lives. And your kids at the school - you had to let them go every afternoon, walk out that door without a glance back.

If you let Ferris go, you would have no one.

Stuffing your phone back into your purse, you held your head high, refusing to let anyone else here see just how deep the cracks in your foundations were. At last, you were called up to the next available teller.

Your heels clicked and clacked along the polished tile floor, the bright yellow dress that you’d bought for yourself for a school spirit day swishing about your ankles. You felt like a sore thumb in this dull, brown-and-white building that was just aching to be updated. Old, vintage chandeliers hung from the high-arched ceilings, illuminating the golden bars the tellers sat behind. Benches with creaky leather occupied the center of the lobby, accented by matching chairs and little desks that bankers in starched collars met with clients at. It was all black and white, neutrals and dark tones.

Greeting the teller behind the gate with as bright a smile as you could muster, you opened your mouth to say hello. Yet just when you began to push the syllables past your lips, your world shattered like porcelain meeting concrete.

Sunlight like a torch in a dark tunnel flooded the bank as a small line of figures crowded into the bank. At first, no one paid them any mind. Then shots like the deafening cracks of fireworks right beside your ear sounded from sleek black rifles into the ceiling, and screams filled the echoey chambers of the building. You immediately dropped and covered your head, breath leaving your lungs like the air had been slammed from your chest by a sledgehammer. People cowered behind the cushions and desks, scrambling for cover as another round went through the roof.

“Everyone put your hands on your heads and take a seat on the ground,” came a booming voice from the figure at the head of the group. There were four of them, a small team who wore identical kabuki masks and black tactical gear fit to be seen on military personnel. “This is a robbery. Not a killing spree, not a kidnapping - a robbery. We ain’t looking to hurt anyone today, unless someone tries to be a hero. No sudden moves. You all follow directions, and you’ll be home in time for lunch.”

Unable to pull in a new breath, you slid to the ground and placed your hands on top of your head. You watched, eyes wide and fingers trembling slightly as the men began to make their rounds to the tellers, plopping wide, fat bags on the counters and demanding money from beneath the desks be placed inside. One took up a stance just beside you, forcefully shoving his bag to the man behind the bars and commanding him to pull out the stacked bills. The teller at once complied, dropping thousands of dollars as sweat began to bead at his temples.

Holy goddamn fucking shit. Holy fuck. You knew this city was dangerous - hell, you’d sit back night after night at home and watch on the news as cars were jacked and people were taken hostage. You’d just never thought it would happen to you; of all the millions of people in this city, you’d never thought it would be you. And yet here you were, hunkered down against a countertop as your bank was robbed with you at the throbbing heart of it all.

And you were all alone.

The man in the mask beside you took a glance down when your trembling brushed up against his leg, his head tilting slightly in a demented way that made his mask look haunted. You were suddenly reminded of your own mask that you wore for work, of the ones the other girls wore, and you were struck with the realization that, perhaps, you and he were not so different. You both wore masks to hide your faces, holding out your hands and moving to a particular kind of dance in order to snatch money right out of pockets without batting a damn eye.

Then again, when you danced, you didn’t hold an automatic rifle strapped to your shoulder.

“Give it to me,” said the man above you. You were barely able to understand his words through his mask.

Your heart skipped yet another few beats as you tried to register what he was saying. Give it to him? Give him what? “What?” you managed to say over the lead in your throat.

He nodded his head to the space beside you, and you whipped around. Your purse lay on its side next to your thigh. He wanted your purse; your wallet. Your money. Everything you had - which still wasn’t much. But you couldn’t give it up.

You looked back up at him while he switched his gaze between you and the teller, who was still busy filling the bag with cash. “No,” you said, and when he snapped his gaze to yours, you added, “please. I don’t have much, I don’t have anything compared to this place.”

The man in the mask turned away from the teller to grip his rifle tighter, tilting it slightly so that it was level with your leg curled up against your chest. “I’m not going to ask again, lady.”

Just as your hand began to scrabble for the purse laying beside you, knocking around a few papers and loose change that had fallen out, the man was struck in the face with a mass of white substance that clung to his mask. He cried out and dropped his rifle, hands flying up in an attempt to pull the stuff from his eye holes. You watched, frozen in place, as another masked man across the lobby was stuck to a countertop by his hand with another mass that appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Before anyone else could react, a dark, sinewy figure dropped from the arched ceilings overhead and kneeled on the tile just a few feet from where you huddled. When they stood up straight, your breath hitched in your throat. It was a man, donned head to toe in a blue and red suit that popped with color here in this bleak interior - like your yellow dress. His face was covered with a mask, the only indication of an expression beneath that surface retractable eye lenses that narrowed as he took a glance around the ceiling.

Spiderman exhaled a nearly inaudible huff. “Some things never change.”

From that moment, the bank was painted into a picture of chaos. The masked vigilante expelled a pair of webs from his wrist to slingshot himself across the lobby, landing a jaw-cracking blow to one of the robbers who tried to raise his rifle. The fourth, the last one still able to move, cracked off a number of shots that sent people scrambling and wailing out. The blue and red suit shot off tiny sparks as lead collided with its bulletproof material, nothing but pebbles against a mountain.

Spiderman huffed again, a breathy little chuckle this time. “Cute.”

In the next second, that fourth gunman was sent flying into a marble wall, sliding down onto his face to reveal the large crack his spine had put in its surface. The last two men were taken down quicker than you could have blinked. The second, his hand still stuck to the countertop, didn’t stand much of a chance when webs ripped his own rifle from his grasp and struck him across the forehead with a sickening crack. And the man who had demanded your purse - he’d only just gotten the white mass of sticky stuff off his mask before the vigilante slung across the room, grabbed him by his vest, and raised a gloved hand capped with three-inch long claws. “It’s impolite to threaten pretty ladies,” he growled in a voice that, for some reason, despite the situation, made your stomach churn a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He swung the robber toward you where you sat on the ground, that clawed hand gripping his jaw to force him to keep your eyes. “Apologize - like a gentleman. And maybe I’ll think about letting you keep your trigger finger in one piece.”

By now, with the gunmen either unconscious or being held against their will, almost everyone else in the bank had gotten to their feet and bolted out the front doors. In the distance, sirens wailed and tires screeched. And yet you remained where you were, staring up at Spiderman as he tightened his grip on the man’s jaw. His claws drew tiny dots of blood along his skin. “We’re waiting,” he said in a breathy murmur.

The gunman inhaled a high-pitched, shaky breath and turned his eyes to you from behind his mask. “M’sorry,” he stuttered over his own terror.

The vigilante leaned closer, his eye lenses narrowing. “Sorry for what?”

“M’sorry for threatening you,” came the pathetic cry in response that almost made you pity him. Almost. “It - it won’t happen again, I swear.”

For a short moment, the two men stared at you. One was praying that you accepted the apology, prayed you were going to call off your savior in spandex. The other was waiting for your decision, waiting to see if you accepted such a sorry excuse for a ‘sorry.’ Swallowing the large lump in your throat, you wordlessly bobbed your head in a nod.

Spiderman hummed and turned his head so that his mouth would be close to the robber’s ear. “Seems the lady’s feeling generous today. Consider yourself lucky.”

He spun the man around with those claws of his, and the robber’s gloved hand reached out in a blind panic and grabbed onto the vigilante’s suit just where his neck met his broad shoulders. He dragged the spandex down accidentally as his head was slammed against the marble countertops, giving you perhaps a one second-long glimpse of dark, tan skin and a small scar across his collarbone. Then the man’s grip relaxed as he dropped to the floor and he released the material of the suit, allowing it to snap back into place.

You jumped slightly as the would-be robber collapsed in a heap of limbs and tactical gear beside you, your dress riding up on your thighs slightly from how you sat with your knees huddled to your chest. Before you could think to do much else in this mind-boggling moment, Spiderman was standing before you and offering a hand to help you to your feet. His claws had shrunk back into his glove - or, perhaps his own nails - and his upturned palm suddenly looked oh so inviting. It floored you in the most alluring, gut-clenching way how those very hands had just brought four men within an inch of their life, and yet now they were softer than empty promises just for you.

“You alright?” he asked as you took his hand and stood. “Sorry you had to get caught up in all this.”

He talked to you in such a casual way, like the pair of you had met before, that you could do nothing but stare and clutch your hands to your stomach as he scooped up the fallen items from your purse, dropped them back in, and handed your bag to you. Numbly, you accepted it.

“You’re safe to walk outside now,” he assured, towering over you like a damn stone column. Fuck, his voice was sexy. Low and tipped with a rolling accent. You wondered, in that moment, why it sounded so familiar. “The police should be arriving any time. They’ll just ask you a few questions and send you on your way.” As if he understood that you were frozen in place, he touched your back, turned you around, and urged you toward the front doors that were now flooded with red and blue lights from the squad cars outside. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

You had just barely mumbled a barely-audible ‘okay’ before he was gently guiding you out the doors, and then suddenly you were alone, facing down three dozen cops and a truckload of SWAT soldiers.

They asked you exactly what happened in that bank. They asked what you were doing there, what time the incident occurred, who in the hell could single handedly take down four aggressors with automatic rifles and bulletproof vests? They knew the answer, and so did you. But you told them anyway.

“It was Spiderman.”

And no matter how fucking hard you tried, how much you urged yourself to forget about them and focus on the here and now, you were unable to get that masked vigilante out of your head. You thought about him on the rest of the way to the school, because god knew there were far too few teachers in this city and you couldn’t have gotten a substitute even if you tried. You thought about him while your coworkers, the other teachers, all gathered around you in the breakroom and demanded answers and stories from your little incident that morning. You thought about him while you planned out your day with numb fingers and toes, and while you stood out front and welcomed kids in, and even when Miguel O’Hara appeared to drop off Gabriella safely at your side.

It took a few words out of his mouth, past those gorgeous full lips of his, a quirk of one of those thick brows, to finally bring you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry?” you said when you realized he had asked you a question. You felt your cheeks warm and your palms become sweaty as you begged his pardon.

To your relief, Miguel only smiled slightly and placed a hand on his jutted hip like he did. God, why did he have to do that? Draw attention to the perfect ratio of his body, a beautiful slope from his wide shoulders to his trimmed waist? “Just asking if you were alright,” he repeated himself, and you could have sworn his eyes flitted over you while he spoke. “Heard you were caught up in that robbery down on Fifth.”

“Oh… right.” You cleared your throat and watched as Gabriella spotted a few friends and dashed into the school to meet them, her backpack wagging behind her. “Yeah, I’m alright. Now that it’s over, I realize it didn’t even last that long. Maybe five minutes or so before… before Spiderman showed up.”

“Yeah?” He reached up his other hand to scratch at the underside of his chin, where the delicate skin of his throat was. Your eyes followed his movements like they were a magnet and you had no choice but to watch. Even if you did have a choice, you would have watched, anyway.

You nodded your head once, clasping your clipboard with your kids’ names on it to your thighs over your dress. A breeze blew over Washington Elementary, letting the yellow fabric dance and blow up to your knees. They were scuffed from kneeling on the hard tile floor this morning. “Mmm-hmm. He’s… not like I imagined him,” you admitted, then realized just what you were doing; talking to Miguel O’Hara, the main star in every single one of your late-night fantasies, about the man who had quite literally swooped in and saved your ass. “But, anyhow… No one got hurt. That’s what matters.”

The corners of Miguel’s lips quirked upward ever so slightly, showing off a tiny flash of his white teeth. It then occurred to you that you’d never seen him smile fully - only with a closed mouth. “Well,” he said, and lifted his hand an inch or two, almost like he was going to touch your arm, then stopped himself and lowered it back down. “I’m glad you’re safe.” There came a fraction of a second of tense, charged silence between the pair of you before he added, “Don’t know what we would do if something happened to Bri’s favorite teacher.”

Bri - you’d never heard him call her that before. It was always a full ‘Gabriella.’

Behind you, in the school, the bell rang, signaling the final five minutes before class started. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling your heart sink slightly at the realization that you would have to leave the conversation. “I’d better -” You allowed your sentence to fall away as a number of squad cars came rounding the corner across from the school, sirens wailing and tires squealing on the tarmac. Other vehicles on the road pulled over to let them pass as they blew through a red light; whatever was happening, it must have been serious. But wasn’t it always.

“Heh,” you chuckled gently as you began to turn back to Miguel. “Always something happening, ri-”

He was gone. Vanished, seemingly, into nothingness. No car to watch pull out of the lot, because he walked his daughter to school, and no trace of his hulking, towering form down the sidewalk outside the wrought iron gates that surrounded the building. He’d completely and totally disappeared.

Damn, you thought as you blinked a few times, gripping your clipboard, and entered the school. What an enigma he was.

That night at work, as you spun yourself around and around on the pole center stage in various twisted shapes and contortments, you found yourself divulging in yet another one of your little fantasies. You shut your eyes as you tensed your leg and gripped the pole to send yourself around in a tight, flashing circle that made the train - that your boss had specifically instructed you to wear while you were in the spotlight - flutter and whip like golden water pulled across a current.

You pictured Miguel seated in the leather chair closest to the stage, his chin propped on his forearms where they rested across the edge of your runway. You imagined the neon lights playing tricks and dirty, filthy, irresistable illusions in the gleam of his eyes, following your movements around and around because no matter how many times you did the same cheap trick, he would still watch it as if it were his first time seeing it. You thought of kneeling down in front of him even though it was against the rules to get too friendly with customers if they weren’t going to pay to see you up close, and of gently taking the point of his chin in between your fingers so that he was tilting his head up to look at you.

Fuck, you thought of him taking you on that fucking stage after the place was closed, hovering over you with your legs locked around his hips and your hands gripping the wrists pinned beside your head so tight your knuckles paled. You swore that, even in your little scenario, you could feel his breath fanning across your face as he leaned down to murmur in your ear through his huffs and lustful, breathy sighs.

“Such a good girl, takin’ it all f’me. Pretty girl, pretty baby. All mine. All mine.”

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to return to reality when you felt yourself being watched. Of course you were being watched - there were dozens upon dozens of eyes surrounding your stage, watching from behind the porcelain gaps in their animalistic masks. But there was another sensation of being stared at that didn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, one that sent a certain kind of shiver down your spine. Keeping in time with your routine and the music thrumming through the floorboards of the club, you peered deep into the wide atrium in search of whoever was fixing you with such a gaze.

You found it.

He was standing nearly in the shadows where the lights couldn’t reach him, arms crossed tight over his chest and stance firm so that everyone who looked at him knew to never even think of invading the space he’d claimed for himself. The man was tall and sinewy with muscle, but you had to squint to see his frame clearly through the dark and the dress jacket he wore. Over his face, the edges obscured by the slicked-back mess of dark hair atop his head, he wore the club’s one and only spider mask.

It was a specialty disguise, one that only the top rollers and highest bidders of the evening bribed their way to at the front room. It usually signified that whoever was behind the porcelain wanted attention, wanted drinks to come nonstop to their side tables, wanted every girl in the damn house on their lap and at their feet. And yet, this evening’s spider was nothing like that. He clung to the shadows, to the perimeter of the room, like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there. He took up no more space than necessary. He was practically a no one, despite the delicate, fractured-looking design he wore over his features.

And he was watching you dance like he was mesmerized, like if the doors were chained shut and the place was burning down around him, he’d be content to stay where he was and keep his eyes focused on your body.

When the man realized you had spotted him, that you were staring right back at him through the gaps of your monarch mask, he moved. You nearly wanted to cry out, to tell him to wait, that you weren’t done. But you couldn’t.

So instead you continued to dance, continued to watch him as he flowed through the other patrons toward the exit. Yet when he turned in just a particular way to avoid bumping into a server, you saw it; through the unbuttoned top pair of buttons of his dress shirt, you spotted it, you were able to catch a glimpse of a pale, raised scar running along his collarbone.

The very same you’d seen on Spiderman.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick

(strike through means your blog could not be tagged.)

[coco-loco-nut]

imgonnagetyouback

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you

a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again

requests open masterlist series masterlist

————————

You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.

Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.

Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.

You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.

“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.

“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.

“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.

“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.

“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.

“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.

“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.

“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.

“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.

“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.

“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.

You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.

“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.

He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.

“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.

“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.

It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.

What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.

“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.

“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.

“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.

“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.

“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.

“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.

“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.

instagram

y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️

logansargeant it was all by design ❤️

oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something

y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you

user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??

user2 AND MARRIED??

y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm

alexalbon they are so unserious 😭

sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone

charlesleclerc ^^^

carlossainz55 ^^^

landonorris ^^^

georgerussell iconic

y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶

[raekensluver]

melodies of love

description: you and your childhood best friend theodore nott have been through thick and thin together, so when he tells you he's leaving, paired with a confession, it changes everything.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: mentions of parental death, latent fathers, late-night love confessions, theo plays piano!!!!!, musician!theo, modern au!

song rec: symphony by clean bandit ft. zara larsson- “life was stringing me along, then you came and you cut me loose."

w.c: 2.0k

an: i have been waiting so longgggg to use the middle photo of lorenzo.

the room was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the curtains dancing with the night breeze. the bed beneath you was warm and comforting, the familiar creaks of the old wooden frame a gentle lullaby. you laid there sideways, your legs hanging off the edge, the mattress slightly indented from your weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp painted the walls with a golden hue, casting a serene scene of shadows and light.

you felt the anticipation build in your chest, your heart beating slightly faster as you thought about the stories theo might share tonight. the late night talks had been your ritual since you both discovered that insomnia was a shared burden. you'd lay in the darkness, whispering your secrets and fears into the night, knowing that the other was always there to listen.

the bond between you and theo was forged in the fires of shared pain. both of you had fathers who were more like shadows than guardians - present but never really there. the cold shoulder from your father had been a harsh reality you learned to navigate early on, while theo had to deal with the tyranny of his own. it was your mothers' gentle spirits that had truly bound you together. lost too soon to the merciless grip of illness and a tragic accident, their memories remained a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving world of your fathers.

you remembered the particularly bad nights, the ones where the darkness outside was only a reflection of the turmoil within. when the house was too quiet, and the sadness was too heavy to bear alone, you would sneak out of your room, tiptoe down the stairs, and out the back door. the cool grass beneath your bare feet was a comforting reminder of the outside world that waited for you beyond the walls of your father's frigid domain. the night air was a balm, carrying the scent of the blooming lilac bushes that lined the fence separating your yards.

you would slip into theo's house, the soft tinkle of the piano in the parlor guiding you like a lighthouse beam through the stillness. his mother had been a pianist before her illness took her, and the piano remained, a silent sentinel of happier days. theo had taught himself to play, and his music was the voice that soothed your soul. the melodies he conjured in those small hours were bittersweet, a testament to the love and loss that haunted your shared past.

his room was always the same, a sanctuary filled with books and knickknacks that reflected his boundless curiosity. the walls were plastered with posters of faraway places and people, a silent declaration of his desire to escape the confines of your small town. the bed was unmade, the bedspread a tapestry of wrinkles from his restlessness, but there was always a spot next to him where you felt safe. you'd slide under the covers, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill that had followed you from your own room.

his eyes would light up when he saw you, a smile playing on his lips as he whispered a quiet "hey." theo had the kind of smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, a trait you envied and adored. you would share your day's troubles with him, the mundane and the profound, and he would listen with a rapt attention that no one else ever seemed to have. his eyes never left yours, as if by looking away he might miss something important, something only you could tell him.

his voice was low and soothing, a balm to your soul on those dark nights. you felt as if you could tell him anything, and he would understand. the way his fingers danced over the piano keys, the gentle strokes and crescendos, mirrored the tumultuous symphony of emotions that played within you. as you talked, he would often reach out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, giving it a squeeze that spoke of his silent support.

this night was no different, except for the anticipation that filled the air. the whispers of a secret untold. you had felt it brewing for days, a heaviness in theo's eyes, a sadness that even his smile couldn't quite hide. you waited, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, for the moment when he would finally confide in you.

you blinked your eyes open, and there he was, leaning over you, his elbows resting on the mattress. the smile on his face was a gentle curve, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. the lamp's glow painted him in a warm light, making his dark hair seem almost golden. his eyes searched yours, looking for the understanding he so desperately needed.

"i've got something to tell you," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "it's big, and i'm not sure how you're going to take it."

you sat up, scooting towards the headboard, pulling your legs up to your chest. the anticipation grew like a storm cloud in your chest, thick and heavy. "okay," you murmured, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come.

theo took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'm leaving," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. the words hung in the air, thick and palpable. your heart skipped a beat, the blood rushing to your ears, drowning out the world outside of your little bubble.

you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you, his body warm and solid. "what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling. his hand found yours again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"i've got a scholarship to a school in the city," he explained, his voice gaining strength. "for music. it's a full ride, and it's a chance to get out of here, to make something of myself."

the words hit you like a wave, crashing over the sandcastle of your quiet life. theo, leaving? It was unthinkable. your eyes searched his, looking for a hint of a joke, a twitch of his lip that would give away the punchline. but all you saw was sincerity, and a hint of fear.

"theo, that's… that's amazing," you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions - joy for his opportunity, sadness for your impending loss, fear of the unknown. "when did you find out?"

he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "a few days ago. i've been trying to figure out how to tell you." his eyes searched yours, looking for the acceptance he so desperately needed. "i leave next week."

the news was a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. your mind raced with questions and objections, but all that came out was a soft "next week?" the urgency of the situation was stark, the reality of his departure so close you could almost taste it.

his grip on your hand tightened. "i know it's a lot to ask, but… i want you to come with me." he said, his voice filled with hope and desperation. "i can't do this without you. you're the only one who really gets me."

you felt your world tilt on its axis, the gravity of his words pulling at you. the idea of leaving your home, your father, your life behind was both terrifying and exhilarating. the thought of starting anew, of escaping the shadows of your past, was something you had never dared to dream.

you took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic symphony playing in your head. "theo," you began, your voice shaky, "i can't just leave. my dad…"

his expression fell, the hope in his eyes dimming. "i know," he said, his voice soft. "but you can't stay here forever. you're just as trapped as i am."

you felt the weight of his words, the truth of them pressing down on your shoulders. you knew he was right, but the thought of leaving was too much to bear. "i… i don't know if i can do that, theo," you whispered, the lump in your throat growing.

his eyes searched yours, desperation flickering in their depths. "please," he said, his voice cracking. "i don't want to leave you. i need you there with me."

you felt your chest tighten at the raw vulnerability in his voice, a feeling you hadn't heard from him in years. theo was the strong one, the one who held you together when your world fell apart. but now, he was asking for your help, for your company. it was a revelation that shook you to your core.

his hand was still in yours, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand. the warmth of his touch was grounding, a reminder that you weren't alone in this tumultuous sea of emotions. "theo," you whispered, "i don't know if i can."

his eyes searched yours, desperation etched into every line of his face. "please," he begged, the word coming out as a hoarse whisper. "i need you there." the raw emotion in his voice made your heart ache.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "theo," you began, your voice trembling, "i…"

but before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. it was soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that held a thousand unspoken words. it was a kiss that spoke of a love that had grown over the years, a bond stronger than friendship, a connection that had always been there but had remained unacknowledged.

you pulled back, your eyes wide with shock. "theo," you whispered, your hand still trembling in his.

his face was inches from yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "i know it's a lot," he said, his voice soft, "but i had to tell you. i love you. i've loved you for so long, and i can't just leave without saying it."

you sat there, frozen, his words echoing in your mind. theo, your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone, was confessing his love for you. the revelation was as surprising as it was overwhelming. your heart was racing, trying to keep up with the thoughts that bombarded your brain.

you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in their depths. they were filled with a vulnerability that was as stark as it was beautiful. theo had always been the one to wear a mask, to hide his pain behind a smile. but here, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, his defenses were down, and you could see the raw, unfiltered version of the boy you had grown up with.

his confession hung in the air, as potent as the scent of the lilac bushes outside. it was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, the silence a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around you both. you felt your heart pound in your chest, a symphony of emotions playing out in your mind.

slowly, you reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had formed since the last time you had seen him. your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty that you both needed. "theo," you whispered, "i love you too."

his face lit up like the first light of dawn, the sadness and fear fading away. "you do?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

you nodded, your heart pounding. "yes, i do."

his smile grew, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a blanket. "so, you'll come with me?" he asked, hope dancing in his eyes.

you took a moment to let the reality of his confession sink in. the thought of leaving your father was daunting, but the idea of being without theo was unbearable. "yes," you said finally, "i'll come with you."

his eyes lit up, and he leaned in again, this time the kiss was filled with a mix of relief and joy. it was a kiss that spoke of a future filled with promise and hope. "i'll make it worth it," he whispered against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. "i'll make sure you never regret this."

you felt a warmth spread through your chest, his words like a balm to your fears. "i know you will."

edited 8.20.24

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!katsuki x reader

❥ read this first!

summary: katsuki had vowed to you to stop this, to make sure you two could live safely from now on. but when you get thrown into the fight again, is he able to save you?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, character death

(a/n: i went with the more interesting ending.. take that how you will)

wc: 4k

he wouldn't fail. it wasn't even an option. the sight of you bloodied on the floor ran through his mind, fueling the fire of his soul as he drove back

he had been forced back to HQ first, that idiot only working at irregular hours of the night.

it was three a.m. way past his bedtime, you'd know as he forced you to sleep alongside him at eight. sometimes the sun was even out when he'd go in for the ‘night.’

he breathed a sigh of half relief and half annoyance as he saw the annoyingly flashy red car in the parking lot of the ‘casino’. he walked in to be greeted by the group of them sitting at a poker table, deku at the head.

katsuki took a seat by the rear, eyes closed but ears open. they had started talking already, but minutes were millions with that idiot. so deku had to ask his questions quickly.

“we just wanted to ask if you'd sold any information on any of our former blood.” midoriya started, eyeing as hawks grew a smirk on his face, his expression one of mock thoughtfulness.

“well, i did. but on who and what will cost you extra, but you know that already.”

“we'll pay, just say it.”

hawks shrugged, examining his fingers as he suddenly spoke quickly and quietly. “let's just say a cloaked man bought the information out of me. wanted bakugo katsuki's addresses and affiliates, former jobs and things he'd been involved with. he offered a lot of money, so my hands were tied. you get it.” a smile broke out onto his face, “but a little birdie told me he trained under eraserhead, i'll give you that for free since i caused you some problems.”

“we already figured that out asshole.” katsuki grumbled. “thanks for your help hawks. ah.. he's just upset, and to be frank i am too.” midoriya said, his voice gaining unusual stoicism in the latter half of the sentence. “you caused issues for me, you know that right? and you can't even give me his identity… it's just an utter disgrace.”

hawks put his hands up in mock surrender, “hey, hey. i didn't say i didn't know who he was. but, fact is that it'd cause you a lot of money to buy his identity in full, you know i'd have to break my code for that.”

“you didn't mind when you sold out bakugo though, did you?” todoroki muttered, flipping a coin in his hand.

“heh, yeah.. i guess i do owe it to you all then. well it's settled,” hawks clapped his hands, “i'll just give you the gang they work under for free.” he slid an envelope over to midoriya. “thanks for the business, sorry for the trouble bakugo.” he rushed out as quickly as he came, the sound of the car speeding out the runway the only thing heard while midoriya tore through the envelope.

written in red ink, with a small smiley face on the very corner, was the name of the gang. “shiketsu?”

midoriya yelled shocked.

they had recently just called a ceasefire to the years of carnage spread between the gangs, the handshake all might did with shindo signified it.

“why would they attack bakugo? it just doesn't make sense.” iida pondered, “though, i guess he did rough a lot of them up back in the wars we had.”

“but there's no reason for them to hold it against them, we had an agreement. we all drank together and everything!” kirishima exclaimed, his hands gesturing around.

“we'll have to go over there ourselves.. likely someone has held something against kacchan for a while.” midoriya ordered. “get your things ready, i don't want any weapons noticeable. concealed and carried, burners too.”

“got it.” they all agreed in unison and got prepared. katsuki was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the notion, putting his favorite gun in his hilt. he always carried, even now, but it was different. this was different.

as he loaded into the car, fist bumping kirishima, he felt almost nervous. he hadn't done anything like this in a while, let alone go to a gang that clearly had something against him. against you.

the ride was quick, kirishima and kaminari blabbing on about how cool it was for him to be back, patting him on the back and smiling. assuring him that they'll find the guy who did this and punt him to the ground.

katsuki could only hope they were right.

they arrived outside the club, walking in immediately to the back. at the sight of deku they opened the doors, nodding at him slightly while letting the group in.

“kacchan, you come with me. everyone else,” he moved to face them, “stay here. on guard, and play nice.” katsuki followed behind him, moving to shindo’s head court. they had to go down an elevator, it was odd really. the last time he was here it was to beat the fuck out of him, and now it was to ask why the hell he picked a fight. with his wife.

it was now six in the damn morning, katsuki was as pissed as ever, midoriya telling him to cool down or he'd leave him behind.

he was a hypocrite though, as he walked in uninvited, a displeased air surrounding him. shindo, who usually invited him over randomly, always accommodating his presence as they were good friends, noticed this odd aura. “midoriya, what brings you here? seems you're not happy with me.”

midoriya took a breath and sighed. “i don't think you would betray me shindo, but facts are facts. one of my men– sorry former men,” he gestured over to katsuki, “had a loved one attacked.”

“that's horrible.” shindo commented, “you don't think i did that though.”

“not you specifically, but.. hawks himself said the one who did was associated with shiketsu.”

“hawks??” shindo almost jumped out of his seat. “well it wasn't me.. definitely not. couldn't have been any of my closest blood either, the only ones who it could've been..” he snapped his fingers like a realization dawned upon him.

“must've been this newbie seiji and his quadrant. he's a new guy, a sniper, he had a crazy good background. he worked fo–”

“eraserhead. right?” katsuki finally had spoken, stepping forward. “right. well, i caused you two a bit of problems huh? lll help you locate him. that's all though.” shindo stood up, handing them a tracking device.

“a tracker?” midoriya questioned, eyebrow raised. “all fresh blood are unknowingly tracked. it's just protocol here, you get it.” shindo shrugged sheepishly.

“right.. remind me to not get on your bad side.” deku joked, laughing about some nonsense joke. katsuki guessed he'd temporarily forgot about the situation, so he snatched the tracker out his hand. “hey!”

“this is…,” his heart dropped, hands sweaty and shaking slightly as he started to recognize. the street names, the buildings, his building.

“why is this fucker close to my house?!”

all of their eyes collectively shot up. you were home, did it already get out that you were alive?

heart pounding, katsuki went rogue. he blasted out of the room, ignoring midoriya’s calls behind him. shoving past his blood and the people in the club, only one thing on his mind: you.

kirishima chased after him as he'd ran into the parking lot of the club, hot wiring a sports car and speeding off.

he threw the burner over to kirishima. “call her, now.” kirishima barely caught the phone, the car drifting and slamming him to its sides so often he felt queasy. “chill out bro!” he dialed the number, but you weren't picking up. he had it on speaker, so the voicemail tone was heard.

“again.” katsuki ordered, his hands gripping the wheel. “call her again.”

“fuck– she's not answering man. we're almost there, she'll be fine.”

“you don't know that. that– that crazy bitch is there.” the tracker now found itself in kirishima’s other hand, the location reading inside his house. “youre not gonna want to hear this.”

“don't fucking tell me. we're here.” he barely pulled in to the driveway when he jumped out the car, braking it abruptly. “back me up.” was all he said as he continued moving forward, not looking back.

he walked up to the door, doing his best to stay quiet as he hopped your white fence and entered through the glass door. he saw you.. and.. surely enough a man he's never seen before.

you seemed off as he barged in, unmoving as he screamt, “[name]! move now!”.

at your silence and stillness, he walked closer to you. only to stop at the red dot aimed at your forehead.

“katsuki. don't move, please.” you were crying, tears streaming down your face as your hands shook. your knees looked like they were about to falter under your extreme fear, your eyes wide and horrified. “stay back.”

he stilled as well, noting the man who had just the rifle at point blank range. he smirked at katsuki, who had his fists balled in anger. kirishima hadn't revealed his presence, hidden behind the sliding door of your home.

“i don't like to leave my work unfinished, you know?” the man said, keeping his finger close to the trigger as he continued speaking. “i don't know how or why, but she managed to avoid my first shot. man my teacher would be pissed.”

“eraserhead?”

“yeah, eraser. he told me all about how you embarrassed my blood a couple years back. how you drove over half the members to the brink of death.”

“yeah, i did do that.” he felt weird talking about this in front of you, you never like it when he spoke about his job in front of you, and now was no different. other than the bullet in your direction. “there's a cease now. we're okay, the fucking shit is over.”

“who gives a fuck? not me. you– you expect me to believe they don't want you dead? that they don't hold some shit against you?”

“they don't. put down the gun– she's not even involved in this.” he slowly moved forward, his hand nearing his gun.

“stay back! or i'll shoot.” he hung his finger right over the trigger, “i'll blow her brains out. back the fuck up.”

katsuki stilled, “don't do this. why her? why not me if you're problem is with me?”

the man scoffed, purple hair covering his eye as he sneered. “because i know that wouldn't hurt you as much as this. as much as killing her in front of you. you're life must've always been disposable, all of us are. normal people don't join gangs.” he laughed, continuing on and on about something as katsuki tried to grab his gun without him noticing.

“who– who fucking tipped you off huh?” katsuki grumbled, attempting to take his attention off his wandering hands.

“well, it started with shinsou. i stole a couple of his bullets, real easy. that dumbass is trusting as long as you're associated with his teacher.” the guy laughed, “hawks though? i offered him a crazy number, asking for your addresses and shit. he gave in easily.”

he eyed the hand towards katsuki’s waist. “drop your gun, do you think i'm fucking stupid?”

katsuki tsked, “you sure do look it,” pulling out the silver ghost and putting it on the floor. it fell by his feet. “kick it away, ill ignore that remark since im feeling gracious.” he did so, making it ricochet off your foot.

filled with a newfound sense of confidence, the man chuckled, going closer to you. he brought his body closer, gun still pointed at you. he was rambling now, his words weren't anything katsuki was focused on. he was looking at his moments, waiting. waiting for a moment to strike, a moment of weakness, something.

and he saw it. his gun faltered, the weight of the large sniper not meant to be freely held in the air finally affecting him, as he had to switch hands to keep supporting it. he was quick to try and fix its position.

but katsuki was quicker, headbutting his stomach. a shot rang out, thankfully the gun had been pointed towards the ceiling, only hitting a random area in the roof. the two on the floor were fighting, fists full of rage as they pushed each other.

the sound of smashed bones and hits so strong katsuki knew they'd bring bruises to his knuckles the next day rang throughout the room, they were both in blinded rage.

after they had been knocked away from eachother, they eyed the gun next to them, chests heaving and body parts broken. they lurched towards the gun, the purple haired man closer to it.

he was going to grab it first, katsuki internally panicked, but the sight that came after only made him worry more.

the sight of you grabbing the gun out of his reach.

you had picked up the gun. you who could barely stomach stomping bugs or killing wasps. you who hated watching horror movies because doing that to people seemed so cruel. you, who had cried when he taught you how to shoot a gun, hoping that this situation would only pop up in his worst nightmares.

you who shakily held up the gun towards the man’s head, making him scoff. “put down the gun, princess. you won't do it.”

your chest was heaving, your knees felt like they were about to give out. your heart was racing, your fingers fumbling over the trigger. “b-back away.”

katsuki didn't know what to say, neither did kirishima who'd burst in from behind you. if he told you to put down the gun, you'd both be in danger. he could take it from you and kill all of you. fuck, why did this have to happen?

“put down the gun, little girl. you're not cut out for this life, so just hand it over. maybe you'll see your husband in purgatory, sure as hell not going to the same place though.” his hand was nearing the gun, his head was so close to the barrel. your hands shook, your eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. katsuki recalled that look from ever shot he'd made you shoot at a range, the face you made when you finally grew enough courage.

“[name]!”

the man's eyes widened as you shot him, point blank rage. his blood splattered over your hello kitty pajamas, but you'd never forget the look on his face when you opened your eyes. the white of his eyes staring at you, the hole that pierced his head and ruined the white of your carpet, the hand that had tried to cover his wound in the millisecond that he had left of his life.

people, people you didn't recognize barged in to the front of your house. they didn't look horrified at the corpse at the floor, they looked more scared of you.

you'll never forget how they all treated you. approaching you like you were a nut case, coaxing you to throw the gun away from you like you didn't want to run away from this whole situation. baby-talking you like you were insane.

you'd never regretted marrying katsuki, but standing here. bloodied and a murderer. that was the first straw for you.

but like always, he'd save you from the mess. when the gun dropped to the floor, on top of the body with a sickening clank! he grabbed you, carrying you up to your shared room.

in your solitude you sobbed, wailing into his chest like you'd done just a day prior. the sun had just risen, illuminating your tears as you shook on your shared bed.

he held you close, reading your mind. “you're not a monster, or a murderer.”

“how can you say that though? i just killed him!” your eyes widened, heart beating like crazy. “it was self defense, he would've killed us all. you did good [name].” he held your face in his hands, letting you see him with his bruised and cut up face.

“you saved me. you saved yourself. you saved anyone that would've been targeted by that freak.”

you finally calmed down enough to go shower. the blood washing off your body didn't help to calm down the storm brewing in your head, the anxiety overcoming you, but he did. he always did.

as he helped rinse the blood of your face, your arms and where it'd been caught in your stomach, replacing it with suds of rosy soap that he'd bought because it ‘smelled’ like you, the voices in your head came to a slow stop.

he was the only one who understood, the only one who had gotten his hands bloodied the same way as you, even worse. as he held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, holding your body close to his as if you were to disappear, you felt normal again.

all traces of the body were gone the next morning, the dent in the ceiling the only remnants of the situation. as katsuki cooked breakfast for the two of you, you couldn't believe how regular it all felt.

how nothing seemed changed, how when kirishima and kaminari came over to cheer you up and check on the two of you they didn't seem phased. how you all sat around your dining room table as normal, katsuki drinking his black coffee while holding your hand under the table, all of you joking around as regular.

how when you went back to your bakery everything was fixed already, a little green sticky note standing out from the display case that was empty because of your absence.

‘sorry for the inconveniences mr and mrs. bakugo, take this as our apologies.’

-midoriya, shindo

there were two small doodles of them on the corner, making you laugh as you gawked at the renovation done to your lovely little shop.

you showed it to katsuki who only scoffed, a small smirk on his face as he looked over the fresh paint, tiles, and replaced tables. “damn nerds.”

you didn't feel so up to baking today, which katsuki understood perfectly. you left the store hand in hand, noticing how the glass of the entrance had been fixed too.

you'd walked to the ramen shop you'd had your first date at, taking the booth in the corner like always. katsuki held your hand, clinging to you more than usual.

he barely let you out of his sight, even offering to feed you, which made you laugh and smack his chopsticks away.

“hey, 'suki.” you asked, poking his side. “it's over right? you're coming home?”

he nodded, swallowing his food before answering. “asshole’s off the streets, that's all i wanted for you, and for us babe.”

“ew don't kiss me when you just ate!”

“do you not love me woman?! we almost fucking died!”

what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, that's what katsuki thought as he reasoned his white lie.

he pondered how he'd make it up to you. technically he didn't do anything wrong in your eyes but he'd still feel internally guilty. he'd take you out to all your favorites, get you a new purse, do all the chores for a week. that sounded good to him as he made his way back to HQ, his hands in his pockets as midoriya eyed him with a knowing look.

you shouldn't and wouldn't want to know about his true final day right? how he'd ordered kirishima and kaminari do round up the rest of the quadrant. how he'd told them to leave them all for him in the basements of the HQ.

how he truly earned back his reputation of being explosive, leaving the three assholes who'd dared to conspire with a guy like that mangled and unrecognizable. if not for the names written in sharpie on their arms he wouldn't have remembered which one was which either.

he dropped the hammer from his hand, looking down at his work with a sense of satisfaction. he changed out of his clothes into the clean ones he came in with, throwing the bloodied ones into an incinerator.

he let iida and shoto handle the bodies, they were always good at leaving them left without a trace. fast too.

he thought about you the entire walk home. he felt giddy at the thought of seeing you again, excited to just exist in your presence. he stretched his body, working up the courage to see you as he opened the door.

“babe, you're home! where have you been?” you crashed into his chest, tightening your hold around him as you hugged him.

“out, finishing up loose ends y’know.”

as you looked up at him, trust and love in your eyes he knew.

he knew that he'd go back, leave, and kill all in a vicious cycle if it all meant coming back to you at the end.

because you were his everything, so he'd do anything for you.

tags: @miguellover6969 @lotusstarr @dragonscribble @theplacetoputfics @hannahk

[makethatelevenrings]

Regency AU - Jason Todd

@sio-ina-bottle pls don't look at my discord profile and see how long I played Vivaldi and the Bridgerton OST on repeat when writing this I beg of you.

This is part of the 5k followers celebration. There are still spots open! Get your requests in now!

Warnings: period-typical misogyny, alludes to abusive relationships and cheating, allusions to Jason's PTSD/past (war)

The Wayne Ball was one of the highlights of the season, your mother reminded you. It was a full day event that would require you to be at your best for the entire day. You would need to smile until your jaw ached, dance until your shoes pinched your feet, and talk about meaningless things until your brain felt like it might atrophy. But it was necessary to secure a husband.

Ever since your father’s gambling debt increased and your family coffers decreased, the pressure on you grew. Your mother had expressed her regret of it “being like this” but she didn’t seem to care if you liked the man you were supposed to marry. She shoved you at any willing man of the Ton, even if rumors swirled around his late night visits to a brothel or his heavy-handedness with his late wife.

This was your fate, it seemed.

The small crystalline glass of lemonade that you gripped in your hand seemed to be your lifeline. You were unable to dance if you were parched and so you took your time savoring the taste of its tartness against your tongue. Somewhere in the crowd of people, your mother discussed with the other worried mothers of hopeless girls, most likely lamenting over how pathetic your marriage prospects seemed.

Baron Lawrence Crock eyed you from across the room and you blanched, raising your glass to your lips in an attempt to evade his glance. Your dance card was only half-full and you knew he had expressed interest in you before. Yet the stories of his cruelty made you wary. A disinterested man you could marry, but a cruel one?

You slipped past the crush of bodies that lingered on the edges of the dance floor and made your way towards the door. One glance behind you confirmed your suspicions. He was making his way to you. Your mother wasn’t paying attention and even if she was, she would encourage the match. He has a sizable fortune, she would say. With money like that, you could look away when he came home late from a brothel. Just bear him one or two children and you would be fine.

Your heart thudded painfully against your chest as you escaped through the large ornate doors of the ballroom and into the velvet carpeted hall. Gathering your skirts in your hand, you hurried down the hall in any direction but here. Wayne Manor was huge and you hardly knew how to get to the ballroom. Where on earth were you heading?

“Are you alright, miss?” a gentle voice asked you as you skittered around the corner and came face to face with a hall of doors. You blanched but relaxed at the sight of a kindly old butler. He glanced over your shoulder and then smiled at you, a kind and assuring smile rather than the patronizing ones you were so used to at home.

“There’s no one following you, miss.” You startled at his words and shook your head.

“I was just looking for fresh air,” you lied. He gestured to the other end of the hall and you let out a nervous laugh. The butler didn’t appear to judge you. Rather, he seemed to understand you.

“The stars are beautiful from the balcony,” he said gently. “And I am quite proud of the flowers that line the stone. Wisteria, gardenia, and camellia.”

You brightened and took his proffered arm. “I love gardening. I’m currently growing some lilacs, but my gardener, Mrs. Haywood, tells me that I should expand. She lets me help with the vegetables and I find that fresh tomatoes are so much better than anything purchased in the market, don’t you think?”

He chuckled as the two of you stepped onto the stone balcony. “I find myself inclined to agree, miss.” The butler tilted his head towards the shadows and cleared his throat. “Master Jason, I hope you aren’t out here to avoid the ball I so painstakingly helped put together.”

A huff of laughter came from the shadows and a man followed it. The thin light of the moon coupled with the candles that burned in their sconces on the wall gave you a good look at him. He had to be one of the Wayne boys, you noted, with those teal eyes and dark hair, but you had never seen him before.

“Oh.” Your voice failed you for a moment as you took in the sheer size of him. Many of the men of the Ton boasted about their athletic accomplishments, but this man truly looked as though he engaged in some physical pursuit on the regular. A shock of white hair stood out at the front of his dark, messy locks and you had the sudden urge to run your fingers over it.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying. “I didn’t realize someone else was out here. I can go back to th-”

“That won’t be necessary,” the man, Jason, the butler had called him, replied. “Alfred, would you be able to stay for a few moments to ensure Miss…” You offered him his name and he nodded, repeating it in that rough voice of his. “To ensure her propriety.”

A flush of indignation crept up your neck and you averted your gaze from the gentleman. Stepping closer to the fenced off edge, you craned your head up to study the stars. They truly were beautiful like Alfred said.

“Andromeda,” you breathed to yourself. Her stars glittered brightly in the night sky. The myths of antiquity had always fascinated you and you loved connecting the stars to their mythological counterparts.

“The wife of Perseus,” Lord Jason said. He settled in on the other end of the balcony and leaned against the stone. You turned your face away from his unyielding gaze and kept your focus on the sky.

“Chained to the rock because of her mother’s vanity and cruelty,” you continued. “Intended to be a sacrifice for the monster Cetus.”

“Do you believe her to be helpless?”

You considered his question and then turned to finally look at him. There was no judgment in his gaze. No cruelty or spite or anger. There was only curiosity, something you so rarely saw in the eyes of those you met at these balls.

“Yes, but no. She was helpless in that moment, but I think we all have those moments. Those times when someone else must come to the rescue, if not to save us from an outside force, but maybe from ourselves. The theme runs through a lot of stories. Heracles, Tristan and Isolde, Saint George in Spenser’s work. I think she isn’t helpless, no. I think she’s just human.”

He inhaled sharply against the night air and you were afraid that you had said the wrong thing. This wasn’t a proper topic of discussion for a young woman. Perhaps you should go back inside. Your mother was probably looking for you.

You turned to head back inside when his voice stopped you. “And do you believe that he truly fell in love with her with just one look?”

The moon bathed your face as you faced him and he noted the way it made your eyes shine just a little brighter. He had been in the ballroom when you were pressed in the corner, avoiding everyone’s gaze. No matter how hard he tried, he had been unable to tear his gaze from you. When he saw you escape from the ballroom, he took that as his chance to go outside and take a deep breath, maybe smoke a cigarette.

He never accounted for you.

“Is it foolish for me to say that I do believe he did?”

Jason couldn’t tear his eyes from yours and frankly, he didn’t want to. There was something about you that made him want to find the nearest monster that threatened you and slay it. After he came back from war, his family noted the darkness in his eyes and the sleepless nights. He played pretend at these stupid balls with no intention of forcing someone into a loveless marriage. How could he be a good husband when he couldn’t seem to wipe the blood off his hands?

He looked at them now and saw nothing but scarred skin.

“You like to read?” he asked carefully. You seemed more settled now and you made your way back to the stone railing. When your eyes met the sky once more, he took in the soft slope of your neck and the curve of your jaw. His hands curled into fists in an attempt to stop him from reaching out and touching the small tendril of hair that curled around your ear.

“I enjoy it.” You said it as if you had to balance every word. “Do you?”

“The library here at the manor is brilliant,” came his breathless reply. “Books from all around the world. You could read all day for the rest of your life and never finish them all.”

“That sounds wonderful. My parents find little care for books,” you admitted. “My governess tried her best, but I’m sure I’ve missed out on many stories.”

Let me tell them to you, he wanted to say. Rather, he merely replied with, “I could show it to you. The library, that is.”

Alfred cleared his throat, a tinge of regret in the old man’s face, and he gestured towards the open door. “Your mother will be getting worried now, miss.”

“Right. Yes. Sorry.” Jason didn’t understand why you were apologizing. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t hear the drums of war crashing in a neverending echo against his ears. He didn’t see the blood on his hands. He only saw and heard you. And then you were gone.

Two days later, you sat in the drawing room and slid the needle of your embroidery in and out of the smooth fabric. The elegant knot of yarn bloomed upon the canvas, but you found yourself unable to find joy in the small success.

“A caller for Miss,” one of the footmen announced. You set your stitching down and stood next to your mother, fully anticipating Baron Crock to step through the door and into your life.

But it was someone else entirely. Lord Jason Todd-Wayne made his formal introduction with your mother before stepping off to the side of the drawing room with you, still in full view of your chaperone.

“I brought you this,” he said softly, extending a well-worn book out to you from his seat on the opposite seat. You gingerly took it and opened the cover to find that it was an anthology of mythologies from around the world. A surprised gasp escaped you and you looked up in surprise at the man before you. His teal eyes glinted with mischief and something else. Closing the cover, you set the book next to you and busied yourself with pouring him some tea.

Perhaps this was your future. A handsome man discussing books with you as you poured him tea. There was no anger in his fists or eyes. There was no fear in your heart.

If this was your fate, you reckoned, then so be it.

[naffeclipse]

A Tease

Reader x Grease

Commission Info

I am rattling @o-cinnamonstickz for commissioning one of my monster boyfriend OCs and letting me go absolutely feral with this guy! Grease is such a menace and the poor reader must sweetly suffer him. After stealing a break while on a late shift, the reader will run into Grease behind the diner, and one tease will lead to another.

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

The customer smiles as he hands you back the black check presenter, his mouth spread a little too wide to show off his molars. You feel the money tucked within, but with an inward groan, you fear there is no tip. You wish him and the few others eating with him a good night. Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of his friends will pity you and dump a few quarters on the dirty table.

As they all throw down their napkins and scurry away, out into the night of Hebron, you step back to the cash register. Feeling the inside of your apron pocket, you brush against the worn and half-crumpled box of cornstarch hidden within before snagging your pen to tuck behind your ear.

With a few taps and clanks, and a little slam to get it to open properly, you deposit the cash for the meal. Stealing a glance over to the table, you find the dishes piled high, the clear cups half filled with watered-down soda, and not even a dime in sight.

Great. Just lovely. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and huff through your nostrils. Where did the virtue of tipping go? Is it just tourists or is it simply everyone that steps through the diner doors who forgoes the practice?

Such questions will only leave you with a headache pounding away at your temples. Biting back a few choice words due to their rowdiness and the not-at-all-subtleness in looking you up and down, you slip the bill into the towering pile that has collected throughout the day.

It’s close to the end of your shift, right? You keep yourself from staring at the clock in the diner too frequently lest the hands get stuck in one place, endlessly ticking without spinning. Everything seems stuck in time here. 

The Hebron Diner, aptly named after the town Hebron, in which you and this poor restaurant reside, is a vintage theme with black and white photos of old cars driving between the trees and sepia pictures of scenery from the nearby national park. You’re growing to hate the lilac coloring of the tables, stools, and booths, and your own stupid waitress attire is drenched in the same hue. Your apron is white—a poor choice, considering how well it shows the stains of burger grease and ketchup. 

You return to the table and begin gathering plates. One hardly touched his fries and you think the other merely played with his country-fried steak. Only an hour to go and then you’re free to rush home and scrub off the smell of fast food from your skin and hair. As the darkness holds over Hebron and its neon-dusted but quaint main street, your hope for the end of a long shift grows. 

You bring the dishes back into the kitchen. Darren, the cook, seems content to clean the grill while the diner remains open but inhabited by hungry customers. 

“Hey, would you mind taking out the trash?” he calls over his shoulder, never even looking up from the faint steam that sizzles over the grill top. “I’ll keep an eye out, let you take a break for a minute if you do.”

“Deal,” you answer without hesitation. You still need to wipe down the table, but you’ll do that after your break. You’ve earned one. 

Dropping off the dishes, you look to Darren for directions on which garage. He jerks his head in the direction of the trash bag sitting in a gleaming silver can, and you quickly tie it up and lift it from its container. Without another word, you breeze outside towards the dumpster. 

Darren scratches your back, you scratch his. You don’t talk to him much, but your habitation as coworkers is seamless as butter on fresh hotcakes. 

The coolness of the night washes over you, chasing away the heat and stress of the diner. A faint street light shines into the employee parking lot filled with cracked pavement and the remnant odor of grease traps. 

The dumpster is located on the other end of the small lot, unfortunately. The light doesn’t quite reach there and deep potholes collect water and whatever may fall into their depths. Your heart skips a beat, your fingers white-knuckling the tied-off garbage at your side.

There are monsters out there. You never thought of such things since you were a child, but the world became a lot bigger and unknowable, and this town became a lot smaller and strange since you discovered the truth. There are things in the dark that hide with mouths full of teeth. They like to watch you. They hope to follow you home and catch you where no one will hear you scream.

Is your paranoia striking because you’re alone now? The darkness is thick and inky, wrapping around the edges of the weak streetlight.

No. Stop being a child. Heaving the trash bag up with a soft clatter, you grind your teeth. The night isn’t what scares you. You push yourself forward, one foot after the other, until you catch sight of one of the potholes. It brims with dark liquid shining iridescently. It stands between you and the dumpster, and you catch an unmistakable ripple across its surface. There is no breeze tonight.

Your breath catches in your throat before you roll your eyes. A name is on the tip of your tongue, ready to call out, but you stop yourself.

A wicked grin crosses your lips. A juvenile idea infiltrates your brain and you run with it. You set one hand on your hip before arching a brow, staring down at the oil puddle. Does he really think you don’t know he’s here?

Dropping the trash bag into the puddle, you promptly sit on top of the black material—not allowing logical thoughts such as the fear of something sharp poking you or the general distasteful smell reeking from it stop you—and throw the puddle outwards in a thick, black splash.

You recline back on it, hands on your knees, as you shift your hips slightly to sink into what feels squishy and crumples slightly, perhaps old food and cardboard boxes. Gross. You ignore it and keep sitting pretty. Underneath you, the puddle begins to bubble and froth. The iridescent sheen of purples and blues and yellows flash in a way you haven’t quite seen before. 

Then the thought lingers a little too long before it manifests into something searing with embarrassment. You might as well have plopped yourself into a demon’s lap.

No. You hold firm. This is payback. He’s stalked you, hunted you down, and grabbed you. The least you can do is embarrass him with the rotten cherry being a trash bag on top of him. You lounge as if it were a throne.

Then a growl emerges from below you. Goosebumps roll over your arms until every tiny hair pricks. Your heart begins to thump hard and fast like a rabbit fleeing from a fox.

You spring off of the garbage bag as if burned. Breath caught in your throat, you whirl back to face the sleek ripples of the oil puddle. 

The black liquid rises, funneling into the figure of a man, lithe with muscles and powerfully sleek not unlike a tiger. The trash bag is ripped upwards in a grip of indignation. Your gut clenches as claws, iridescently gleaming and dark, sink into the thin black material.

A creature of living oil. A demon. Grease.

Two dark tendrils drip down from the top of his head, the tips resting at his shoulders. A long, sleek, and wicked tail snaps behind him. His face is flat with a sharp jawline, lacking a nose but his mouth bears bone-white teeth. Two pale blue eyes, centered with black pupils, pierce you in the darkness of the parking lot as if he might devour you whole. You’re reminded so vividly of a tiger before it strikes.

“How disrespectful,” Grease snarls, his silky and dark timbre carrying a slight threat underneath it. “I’ve come to see you and you put trash on me. Must I remind you who I am?”

You shift on the gritty pavement from one foot to the other. The candle flame of mirth inside of you is not yet extinguished. A small voice warns you in the back of your mind that you’re pushing your luck, but you are nothing if not a glutton for punishment.

“I know who you are, oil boy,” you say, much braver than you are. “You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

His grin widens.

“Oh?” He steps forward, his shoulders lowering like a cat about to bounce. The sway of his tail is excited, thrilled for a chase. “Neither are you, little nymph.”

A brief burn infiltrates you at the nickname he’s unfortunately bestowed upon you. Your brow furrows as you take a step back. A powerful concoction of adrenaline and confusion floods your veins, interrupting the flow of your thoughts as a primitive instinct to survive takes hold.

“What…?” Your tongue is too heavy.

He tilts his head, revealing a terrible mouth filled with shark-like teeth. Fear spears your heart.

“If you want to sit in my lap, you merely need to ask.” He cackles a heinous sound of black glee.

Red heat fills your face, coloring you in both rage and embarrassment. No, no, this is backfiring. You should have known he would have twisted it in his favor. He’s so seductive and intimidating. You forget which part of him is more dangerous: his teeth or his words.

“Ah, just how I like you, all pretty and pink,” he purrs deep in his throat. His black tongue, oily and black as midnight, swipes over his teeth as if he just found dessert.

Forget this. You twist on the balls of your feet, pushing off the cracked pavement in a dead run for the back door of the diner.

It’s over before it’s truly begun. Long, slick claws snatch you by the arms. Grease rips a gasp from you as he whirls you around and pins your back to the wall. You glare up at him, a breath rattling into your lungs. 

“Let me return your little favor.” His voice coils within you. Your heart beats against your ribs, wild under his devouring gaze. “A little tease for another.”

The sleek tip of his tail finds your ankle and begins winding up your leg. You bite back a yelp at the squeezing, staining pressure from the tendril. A chain to ensure you can’t run.

“I wasn’t teasing you,” you protest, but it’s a lie. A filthy lie that is only met with a sinister chuckle from Grease. 

“Don’t be so coy. It’s not a good look for you.” 

Fighting words long to fly off your tongue but his own emerges from his jaws. Dripping black saliva coats it like thick honey. Your eyes widen. He leans in closer with a monstrous grin. The tendrils upon either side of his head twist up gently and press into your cheeks, securing you into place as you suck in a sharp breath. Your palms press flat against the wall at your sides. He bends low to find access to your neck.

The cool, slick caress of his tongue on the curve of your throat draws out a shiver. It fills your chest and rolls down your spine. Tenderly exploring your skin, the tip of his tongue licks slowly upwards before disappearing from underneath your chin with a cool trace. You gulp.

The fiend. You would curse him if you weren’t half-paralyzed underneath his mouth. Your fingers inch toward your apron pocket.

“On second thought, why stop with a tease?” Grease slips back just enough to capture your gaze and watch you squirm. A threat of blush is bearing down upon your defenses. “You deserve more. A proper… tantalizing…”

He finishes his thought with a too-wide smile and his tongue flicking out of his mouth, closing the precious little distance between your lips. The gallope of your heart roars in your ears. You can’t name the roiling in your middle. It is too hungry, too excited for an oil demon’s touch. 

Still, you lean forward in the slightest, just to catch him the slightest bit off guard. His tail loosens from your leg. His eyes widen, but he presses in—

You snatch the box of cornstarch out of your apron and whip it in front of you, spilling out fine white powder onto the oil demon. He screeches in fury. Backing away from you as the cornstarch latches onto his chest, he writhes and hisses, claws raking at the substance gluing up his sleek form.

“You—! You—!” He howls but all you can do is steal one breathless sound before sliding out from underneath him and grabbing the door handle. Twisting it, you fling yourself into the kitchen.

You twist back to slam the door closed but catch a sharp, pale blue glare, frothing with a promise so vile, it ignites your core into a hot bubbling mess.

Grease will make you pay. But not tonight.

You lock the door and fall back against it. Deep gulps of air heaves through your chest. You slowly push your hair away from your sweaty face.

You got away. For now.

[betweenblackberrybranches]

In rlgl au how did Y/n meet Moon? What was their reactions?

Okay lil RLGL AU writing

They met a few times after the first "disastrous" meeting y/n had with Sun but Moon never really interacted past a nod and y/n had the biggest inner conflict about not wanting to interact and not wanting to be too rude... but then there was the time y/n and Moon had their first actual conversation...

Lugging the heavy grocery bags up the last flight of stairs you immediately noticed him. A tall figure stood hunched over at the Door to the neighbouring flat, clad in what you could only assume was a half-undone night gown, the kind of amalgamation of sheer and ruffled lilac fabric you imagined rich widows with a suspicious number of dead husbands wearing. You knew him, recognizing him immediately, the dark blue silicone casing of his arms and legs and the signature star riddled night cap being a dead giveaway, though now the hat was being held up in a kind of loose bun by a hair clip. The way he apparently treated the piece of clothing like some kind of hairdo instead of simply taking it off made you smile a bit into your scarf. Your approach startled the Robot, who uncomfortably shuffled further into the corner, giving you room to go further, there was a moment of awkward silence as you approached the door of your flat, his posture only showing more uneasiness. You feel a heaviness in your stomach as you fish for your keys in the deep pockets of your jacket, feeling the eyes of your next-door neighbour on the back of your head. Is it too late to turn around and say hello? The moment for it to feel organic has gone by too quickly but you do not want to be too rude either. You still cringe at the memory of your first meeting with Sun, weeks had gone by but the feeling that they saw you in a rather negative light only solidified with every interaction. You should be happy about it, the fact that this dislike on their part kept them far away from you could be your saving grace, considering the strict rules of employee and escort interaction at Faz.Co. Especially because you didn’t know if they would follow the rules and go to management with this. You knew for a fact that Faz.Cos management didn’t mess around when staff and escorts interacted without permission, it didn’t matter if it was at work or in private, or if it was just an accident. The rules were in place for a reason, you knew that, to protect the integrity of the escorts, that was the wording used in the terms you had signed when starting to work there.

You sighed.

But it still hurt. Trying to be distant was not something that came naturally to you, even with the stress that came with interacting with others, you still liked making people smile, or at least not hate you, social anxiety be dammed. Seeing Sun making awkward small talk with you, obviously uncomfortable in your presence, and Moon completely shying away from interactions… You surely felt like a terrible neighbour, your chest hurting whenever thinking about making them feel that way. But what could you do, be all friendly and risk them taking a closer look at you and realizing that they had seen you before? No way. But at least saying hello should be fine, right?

For the third time you missed the keyhole, having zoned out at the inner debate of it being awkward or not to say hello this late after arriving here, when a small static noise caught you off guard, almost close to a frustrated sniffle. Head turning automatically towards him you saw the dark blue bot tapping at his phone, the upset clearly visible in his features, just hovering around the door, no keys in sight. You stopped, taking in what you saw for a moment pressing your lips together in an inner battle, he obviously had locked himself out of the flat, looking nervous and rather upset. Finally, your key found its way into the lock, and you entered your flat, a decision had been made, putting the frozen and cooled groceries away you berated yourself, grabbing your tool kit and bringing it to your front door you felt your fists clench. If you were lucky, he would be gone when you’d open this door, the situation averted by the solar bot arriving. This was a lose-lose situation. You obviously knew how to open these old shitty doors even without a key, but you worried, they might want to start interacting more with you if you did them a favour. Or terribly worse, they might start feeling unsafe in their own flat, knowing how easily these doors could be broken into, especially by you, the one neighbour they seem to be weary of.

You open the door, leaving the tool kit behind it as you step out. He is still there, looking up as you exit, his eyes quickly flit over you, stopping at your lack of shoes, he seems to realize that you were not taking a leave, but rather came out to talk to him, immediately as he turned towards you, crossing his arms defensively over his exposed chest, shifting slightly, maybe trying to adjust his robe inconspicuously.

You rub your neck awkwardly and gesture towards the door. “Locked yourself out?”

He gave a quick glance to the door and then back at you, with an unsure expression. “...Yea?...”

“do you uh.. need help with that?” you tried sounding as unthreatening as possible already noticing him fiddling with his hands nervously “Or you know, a place you can sit down to wait? If you want, of course, if you don’t want a stranger to help you with opening the door…”

Oh geez that sounded weird, you immediately regretted saying that part about being a stranger, not being able to stop yourself from blabbering on for better or for worse. “Or well maybe you don’t want help at all that’s fine too… just, you know, I do know how to open these doors….. not in a weird way tough just, you know for when someone well… locked themselves out”.

“heh” Moon made a noise almost like a humoured exhale, his shoulder having gone down a bit in of what could be seen as relaxation. “You know how to break into places? Should I report you or something?”

You halt, not fully knowing if this was a light-hearted joke or a threat. The moment of panic apparently very readable in your eyes as Moon gives you a look.

“I mean, I’d appreciate if ya didn’t?” You chuckle awkwardly “but it’s not like I can stop you”.

He hums as if in thought, “If I let you at it you’re not going to break the door, right?”

You give him a lopsided smile “I mean, yea that’s the goal, not breaking the door I mean, or the lock”.

He steps to the side, leaning against the wall, looking away awkwardly. “I- have something baking in there….”

You nod, so that’s a yes. You get the old paint spatula out of the toolkit that you had used to patch up some holes in the walls of your flat years ago, now it was the go-to tool whenever a door needed to be opened. Which used to be rather often because your last next-door neighbour before these two guys had been an elderly and often forgetful lady, having to be let in every other week or so.

Carefully you shimmy the spatula between the door and doorframe in a specific downwards motion and then give it a hearty smack, hoping that it would work at the first try and not embarrass you. The lock clacks and you press the spatula inwards while pulling the door outwards, closed. After a moment the door opened, and you let it swing inwards. You get up, seeing stars for a moment as usual and then turn to the bot who is staring at you wide eyed. “uh there you go..” You motion to the door, not sure if his reaction was on the positive or negative end of the spectrum, you add a bit of flair, doing jazz hands while grinning lopsidedly.

Moon snorted a bit, “You are a professional I see, well thank you, I’ll go look at my oven now, but yea, thank you…”

His leaving almost felt like he was fleeing the situation, but you didn’t mind. You just hoped he wasn’t freaked out after this. He had looked kind of cute in that robe though but you supressed that thought immediately, feeling like a creep for even thinking like that.

That evening someone knocked on your door and when you opened it Sun awkwardly handed you a plate with brownies giving you a half smile and immediately going back into their flat leaving you dumfounded. The brownies had a bit of an orange flavour when you tried them. Someone had tried to scrape off some burned corners and covered it up with powdered sugar but you still tasted the singed bits. You couldnt help but smile.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 4

Another touch of smut. MDNI 18+

______________________________________________________________ The Next Day. Saturday.

Anxiety. First date anxiety to be exact and it had your stomach in knots. You’d woken to no alarm, blissfully off work that day and lounging in bed for a few minutes had been nice until you were hit with a pang in your stomach when you remembered you had a date with Price that night. Suddenly, you couldn’t lay in bed anymore. Tossing off the covers and heading to the kitchen, you brewed some tea to try to calm the racing of your heart while you mentally worked through everything you’d need to accomplish today before said date.

Only after tearing through your closet did you settle on a black dress that had been hanging in the back for ages. It hugged your curves in all the right places without making you self conscious about the curves you didn’t like. You’d originally bought it for an anniversary dinner with Kit, but when he’d canceled with the excuse that his job needed him to stay late (or in reality, your cousin insisted he come over), it never saw the light of day. What better time to wear it than on a date with a new man? 

You quickly found that John Price was not one to be tardy to anything. He’d shown up five minutes before eight, waiting patiently at the door while you called from inside that you were coming. Opening the door to your flat as you wiggled on your heels, you were presented with a bouquet of hyacinths and lilacs decorated with sprigs of baby’s breath. “Johnny said they were your favorite,” Price shrugged, giving you a warm smile as you invited him in and took the flowers to inhale their sweet scent. Your eyes traveled from the bouquet to his outfit for the evening and internally groaned at how handsome he looked in the maroon button up that stretched over his chest and biceps and black slacks that you decided you wouldn’t mind seeing on the bedroom floor.

“Please, make yourself at home. I just need to get these into a vase and then we can leave,” you stated before rushing into the kitchen, Price’s eyes glued to your backside as you disappeared. Quickly, you filled a vase and dropped the bouquet into the water, admiring it with a girlish giddiness and promising yourself that you’d properly set it up once you returned. 

When you returned to the living room, Price was looking over the bookshelves surrounding your TV and you walked over to join him. “This is my favorite,” you said, reaching up to hook your finger over the spine of a well-loved book, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” Price’s gruff voice stated, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and he looked you over with an appreciative gaze. You were smart. Just one more thing to adore about their shiny new toy.

“I love the fantasy, but also the deeper meanings behind it,” you replied, blushing lightly as you took the book and put it back in its place on the shelf. “Maybe one day we’ll talk a bit more about it,” you added, knowing if you started in on the intricacies of Lewis Carrol’s famous book, you’d never shut up. Price nodded and checked his watch before his hand came to rest against the small of your back. “We should get going, little bird. We have reservations,” Price spoke softly, his mustache twitching with his words. 

John Price was known to be a man with endless self control, but you seemed to be the exception. As the two of you made your way downstairs, his blue hues stayed glued to your form, taking in the way the dress accentuated your waist without hiding your wide hips. The short kitten heels that clicked on the stairs made your calves flex and contract in a way that made his mouth water. And he couldn’t ignore the way your hair shined in the light of the lamp post outside next to his truck. 

As you not so gracefully clambered into his truck, you noticed a figure on the far side of the street bearing the same skull mask you’d seen weeks before. Why did it seem so familiar? But then Price had your attention as he climbed behind the wheel and when you looked back, the shadow was gone. It made your brows furrow, but you shook off the feeling it left you with, choosing to focus on your date. 

The restaurant was nice, not too fancy, but definitely warranted your more formal attire. “Two for Price,” he stated to the host, voice rough but polite. He’d offered you his arm after opening the truck door for you and you’d accepted, sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow. The two of you followed the host to your table in the corner, Price pulling out your chair in a show of gentlemanly chivalry before taking his seat with his back to the wall. 

The waiter arrived, greeting Price like an old friend and it made something in your chest tighten. How many other dates had he brought here? But your concerns were quickly dealt with when the prettiest man you’d ever seen approached the table. “Price! Wonderful to see you again,” the man turned to you now, leaning down to take your hand and kiss the back of it. “And you must be the pretty lass Price and So- Johnny can’t seem to stop talking about.” 

You blushed a fierce red, head turning to look at Price who seemed to be a bit pinker than before. “Aw, hush it, mate. Little bird, this is Kyle, a friend of ours and the owner’s son,” Price introduced with a small smirk and your head swiveled back to look up at the man standing next to you. “It’s a lovely restaurant. I suppose that’s where you learned to cook? Johnny can’t stop talking about your food,” you replied, giving him a kind smile. “Ah, he’d have more to say if he took more than a second to taste it. Mate inhales food like it’s going to disappear,” Kyle chuckled and raised his hand to rub the top of his head before sliding down to wrap around the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. It’s on the house, Cap.” Kyle bent to take your hand again, kissing the back before standing straight. It left you staring at the spot on your hand while Kyle winked at Price over your head before disappearing into the back. 

For now, you perused the menu even though you knew you’d be ordering a salad. “What looks good to you?” Price asked, leaning over and incidentally against you as he looked at your menu, rather than his own. “Oh, I was just going to order a salad. They look pretty good,” you muttered back, feeling heat rise on the back of your neck. “Just because I call you little bird, doesn’t mean you need to eat like one. Get a steak, or pasta. Something you’ll enjoy,” he insisted, warmth pouring from his expression. You flushed and muttered that the steak looked fantastic and he nodded, proud that you’d listened to him. “Good girl,” he praised and you were pretty sure your stomach had dropped out of your ass, the color lingering on your cheeks turning darker. 

The dinner went by without a hitch once you’d conceded that the steak was worth it and much better than your original choice of a salad. You’d surprised him when you asked the waiter for a glass of whiskey neat, adding another reason the boys would adore you. 

Afterwards, the two of you headed back to your flat, chattering along as if the pair of you weren’t essentially strangers. The closer you got, the more your previous anxiety reared its ugly head. The evening had been wonderful and John was nothing less than a perfect gentleman, so when you entered your flat with him on your heels, you offered him a drink and disappeared into the kitchen. 

Meanwhile, Price was pulling out his phone and quickly updating the boys on the night, chuckling at their outrage at the lack of information he was providing. Shoving his phone back in his pocket when he heard you coming back out, you presented him with a glass of bourbon from your stash and settled next to him on the couch with your own glass. 

“So, Cap, huh?” you pressed, watching his reaction to your inquisition. Most of the night had been about you. Your job. Your car. Why you were in England instead of the US. But you still knew next to nothing about him besides he liked his liquor hard and he could fix a car. Price grunted in response before dragging a hand down his face to scratch at his beard. “Captain. I lead a task force that is made up of the boys, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon,” his words were crisp and short, letting you know that was the only information you’d get about their jobs right now. 

But you were trying to not be a wet rag when it came to letting things lie. “I see. So that means you guys go out there and do super secret missions for the government?” you asked, tone teasing in an effort to keep the conversation light. Price nodded before getting up off the couch, making the furniture creek with the weight being lifted off of it. He paced to your window, looking down at the street below. 

You stood, kicking off your heels before joining him at the window. His gaze moved from the street back to you and you had to fight back the gasp as the piercing blue of his eyes seemed smaller, taken over by the black of his pupils. Your heart hammered as he took your glass, knocked back the remaining liquid before setting it on the window sill. His hand raised to push a stray lock of hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear before his palm was settling against the softness of your jaw.

“Tell me to stop,” Price whispered, leaning down slowly to give you a moment to process just exactly what he wanted you to stop. But you didn’t, pressing up onto the balls of your feet to close the distance. His lips were gentle against yours, ever so slightly chapped, but his mustache and beard were soft against your skin and you hummed into the kiss. Your body instinctually leaned into his, hands finding the bulging biceps under the fabric of his shirt while his free hand found the dip of your waist. 

A low growl from him and a soft sigh from you bounced between the two of you as he pulled back, his gaze meeting yours as he searched for any sign you’d like to stop. But when all he found was round eyes and a soft smile on your parted pout, he grinned and resumed ravaging your lips and tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue. 

His large hand drifted down from your jaw to wrap lightly around your throat as his thumb slid up and down over your pulse point. Your chin tilted up and he pulled away, breath heavy and hot between you as he smirked down at the pretty bird he’d caught in his trap. “Mm, as much as I’d love to take you right here in front of the window so the whole world knows who you belong to, I’m too much of a gentleman to do so on the first date,” he breathed against your lips, voice low and you almost whined in response.

His words made your legs weak at the knees, body reacting to the first hint of physical affection you’d had in months, possibly years. “What if I asked you to?” you quipped back, unaware of where your bravado was coming from. A chuckle and a shake of his head were the response you were given before he was stepping back, though his hand never left your waist while the other dropped to join it. “I would tell you to be patient, pretty bird” he growled back, his hold on his self control quickly slipping while his grip on your waist tightened.

Price rested his forehead against yours, panting softly before he let his control slip a little in a very rare ‘fuck it’ moment. His hands slid from your waist to grasp the fat of your ass through your dress, roughly pulling you to him as he pressed his lips back against yours in a heated kiss. Your own hands clutched at the front of the pretty maroon button up, tugging at the fabric in a desperate attempt to get even closer to him. He turned you, pressing you against the brick of the wall as he pinned you between it and him. 

You could feel his arousal through his trousers, pressing against the soft flesh of your tummy as the two of you kissed like rabid teens. He gathered your hands together in one of his, pinning them over your head while the other explored your curves; over your waist, your hips, down over your plush thighs. When he pulled back to rake his gaze over your breathless form, you could see his mustache curling up with his lips in a smirk before he was leaning forward to press soft kisses along your throat.

“You have no idea what we could do to you. Such a pretty little thing,” he muttered against your sensitive skin while his free hand ran up the inside of your thighs. ‘We? Who is we?’ you thought briefly before you felt the heat of his thick digits against the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your parted lips, swollen from kisses while your legs spread of their own accord and his resounding groan let you know he felt the same as you. 

Then why was he releasing you? Stepping away as he dropped his hands from your body and he regained control of himself. You looked up to him with confusion, still leaning against the wall as if your legs would give out if you tried to walk. “I told you, I’m too much of a gentleman,” he chuckled, coming back to give you one more sweet, short kiss. “Don’t worry, little bird, you haven’t seen the last of me.” 

______________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for the support! I appreciate it so much! Price is a little mean, but he'll make it up to her.

[tumblerlove]

Rafe pampering you and getting you lingerie

Rafe has been seeing how hard you've been working lately at your job at the bookstore. Then you come home cook and clean. Even though Rafe tries to help you out, you still mainly want to do it. You don't even need to do those things he's told you before he'd do it himself or hire people. But no, you tell him... you have a specific way to do things.

He decided that tonight, though, that you'll be relaxed completely, no cleaning, cooking nothing like that. He gets food cooked at the house and makes sure he cleans the house just how you like it. Then he goes out and buys you a little something that he thinks you definitely deserve for being such a good girl.

When you get off work, all you want to do is eat, cuddle with Rafe, and read a little. "Rafe, are you home?" you call out as you take your shoes off. Sometimes you get home before him, others times he does. "I'm in the dining room, honey," you hear him

You can smell food as you walk closer and closer to the room. Once you walk in, you're shocked. "What...what is this all for Rafe?" You're saying with a smile as you take in the scene before you.

The lights are dimmed with a few candles, making the room look cozy. The table has all your favorite foods, including drinks and desserts. You also see your favorite flowers at the table.

"You've been working so hard lately... and I thought that you deserved this," he says while taking your hand to have you sit at the table

It's not like Rafe doesn't spoil you or treat you to things...he does a lot actually...it's just this caught you off guard, and you're smiling throughout dinner thinking about that he did this for you

After you both eat your fill and talk about everything and anything. He comes around the table with something wrapped for you. "What's this?" You look up at him as he strokes your hair. "I don't know. You'll have to open it and see"

You dive right into ripping it up. Rafes laughing, seeing you so enthusiastic about opening it. Your eyes sparkle as you hold up the garment. "You did not, Rafe," you say, looking at him. He smirks at you. "But I did baby...you deserve it"

He got you a Lilac colored babydoll lingerie set. The cups were lacey, but they still would lift your boobs a bit. The body was flowy and see through letting him see your curves and plush tummy. The underwear was a thong that was lacey, too.

"This is gorgeous, Honey," you say, standing up to give him a kiss and a hug. "You like it?" he says with a little apprehension. "Yes, yes, I love it!" You jump up and down a little from being so happy. It really was beautiful.

"Why don't we go upstairs?...you go and try it on and I'll take care of you" he's telling you between kisses....your squeezing your thighs together getting excited "You've been a good girl lately and I wanna treat you...your in for a night" he keeps saying

You grab his hand him trailing behind you as you go up the stairs into your guy's room. "I'm gonna go try it on," you say, holding the lingerie up

As Rafe goes to sit on the bed, he takes his shirt, needing to get a little cool. He's been hard since seeing you get home imagining you in the set.

The set was gorgeous on you in the mirror. It fit you like a glove and made your tits look great and showed off your curves, too. You fix your hair a little before walking out to see Rafe sitting on the bed staring straight at the door as you open it.

"Oh fuck sweetheart" he's groaning out eyeing you from head to toe. "This...your...you look fucking gorgeous" he finally gets the words out as you walk towards to him

He stands up once you're close to him, instantly cupping your jaw and kissing you. "Fuck" Rafe keeps moaning out whenever he breaks apart from kissing you.

"You look so good, baby...such a good girl for me always," Rafe is telling you as he walks you backward towards the bed to have you sit down

You can feel yourself starting to get wet...he kneels down on the carpet before you and starts kissing your legs, working his way up to your core

"I'm keeping these panties on you while I eat you out" he says while rubbing your slit up and down over your panties

"Mmm...Rafe, that feels nice... I want more, please," you whine to him. "You've been such a good girl for me love, I'm giving you whatever you want, love," Rafes tells you while moving your panties to the side, seeing your start to drip from your cunt

"I can never get tired at looking at your pussy" Rafe says before diving into you and licking you from your entrance up to your clit.

"Oh shit Rafe" you call out as you reach to grab his hair as he keeps devouring you. Taking your slick from your hole to use over your clit. He takes your clit between his lips and goes back and fourth from sucking on it to licking it. "You taste good baby" he hums into your cunt. The vibrations from him talking feel so good.

His large hands are pinning your thighs to the bed, making sure you can't go anywhere he doesn't want you to. Rafe starts to tease your hole with his index finger. "Ah Rafe please...please"

With hearing your cries, he pushes his finger in curving up to find your g-spot. "Shit... shit," you cry out while rocking your hips back and forth against Rafes face.

"Cum on my face love" Rafe mumbles against your cunt. The vibrations sending you to your orgasm. You feel your entire body start to relax more as you let Rafes' hair go and lay completely back on the bed

"What a good girl you are, love." Rafe coos as he watches you while he stands up to hover over you and kiss you

Your mind is starting to feel light. Along with your body. You haven't been this relaxed in a minute it feels so nice

"It's your night, love. What else do you want?" Rafe asks you while pulling down your bra cup to lick you nipples "Oh...I want you, Rafe," you whine out. "Gotta be a little more specific than that love," he teases you while switching to the other nipple

"Mmm...your...your cock I want it" you cry to him your body needs him so bad your dripping down your thighs and Rafes chin is clearly coated in your slick. You watch as he takes off his pants and boxers in one go. Rafes completely naked while you still have the lingerie set on. With your panties pulled to the side and bra cups down showing your tits.

"How should I fuck you mmm...looking at that gorgeous face or seeing this ass" he says while starting to stroke his cock spreading the pre-cum all over

"I...I don't care Rafe, I just need you." You're pulling at his shoulders to get him closer to you and kiss him. All you can think about is Rafes cock. You want him inside of you filling you up and cumming inside your cunt

Rafe teases your clit with the tip of his dick making both of you moan out at the feeling. He's teasing you taking his cock up and down almost going inside you then going up to your clit again

Your minds gone fuzzy at this point all you can do is plead "Rafe please just fuck me"...he looks at you with such a loving smile "It's a good thing good girls get what they want then isn't it" he says while pushing his cock into you finally

"Ohh... finally," you moan out while clutching onto Rafes' shoulders as he pushes all the way inside you. His little praises and actions are making you feel so cared for and you can feel your self going into subspace...Rafe can see it in your eyes too

"Fuck there you go love...just relax and let me take care of you" he loves seeing you like this...knowing he did that to you taking care of you and fucking you so good that you are in heaven

Rafe moves his hand between your bodies while continuing with his thrusts and starts rubbing your clit. "Ahh, mmm," you can't even get words out at how he's making you feel

"Your cunt is squeezing me so good...I'm gonna fill you up" Rafes sputtering out while his thrusts are getting sloppier but his fingers on your clit are getting faster making sure that you cum too. Your cries are getting louder.

You can feel you orgasm coming. Feeling it unwind in your stomach and electricity going through your body, making you cry out and dig your nails into Rafes shoulders

"Oh fuckk" Rafe groans out feeling your cunt throb around him as you cum and with your fingernails digging into his shoulder causing a little pain. It has Rafe cumming inside of you filling you up

"Mmm" you sigh as you feel his cum dripping out of you. "Shit, that's a good girl" Rafes coos while stroking your thigh watching his cum drip out your cunt.

"You did so good honey," you can hear his words, but they sound a little muffled. You feel completely fucked out right now. This whole evening made you relaxed and feel so loved by Rafe. "You still with me?" Rafe asks while he starts to clean you up with a towel. He knows that you're out of it, and that's just how he wanted you

"Mhmm" is all you can get out. You don't even want to speak right now, completely relaxed. Rafe leaves all of the lingerie on you while he pulls on boxers before coming next to you and cuddling.

"Get some rest, love," he says while pulling you under his chin to cuddle. "You've got a long night ahead of you... I don't want a single thought in this head tonight, " he says, kissing your head.

Fuck you were gonna be sore tomorrow...