#look into that if that sounds like something you'd want

[syoddeye]

cygnet, plucked | price x reader | part one part one cw: clothes stealing, forced transformation, coercion, familial abandonment, non-consensual touching/manhandling, restraints, masturbation mention, forced marriage forthcoming cw: dubcon, forced marriage, blood, mild injury a/n: reader is a swan shapeshifter. she retains some feathers as a human. based off this request, obvs influenced by swan-maidens, swan lake.

The first time he touches you, it's your wrist. A firm grip, just below the joint. Testing. Feeling the few feathers that sprout there, thumbing over the delicate, individual rachis.

You don't move. Don't speak. Torn between the instinct to flee and the paralyzing fear that you cannot. You watch his face. The thick brows, the kempt beard. The wrinkles that pull at his forehead when he frowns.

He is older than you—older than you look, at least. His arms are burly, heavy with muscle and hair, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows like he means to get his hands dirty at any moment. Willing to. Blue eyes, your favorite color until this second, framed by crow's feet and speak to experience.

He looks at you with expectations you wish you didn't understand.

"Can't leave without this, can you?"

Your dress, spun from feathers and thread, drapes over his shoulder like a pelt. As if it were a thing he hunted, caught, claimed—that he did not simply steal it from the lakeshore when you were distracted. It doesn't belong there. It doesn't belong anywhere but on you.

"Come along. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Your sisters are gone. Fled, shrieking into the oncoming sunrise. You do not blame them. But it hurts. 

The lake is still. Empty.

He lets the silence stretch, patient. He has all the time in the world. You don't.

You've watched human men before, from a safe distance, tucked among the reeds with your sisters. You've seen what they do when they think no one is watching. The way their faces shift at the sight of a woman. The way their hands reach, take, ruin.

You are a flightless bird, exposed. Not much of a swan. A sitting duck.

What choice do you have?

You follow.

You learn his name is John. That he has lived in this cabin for almost a year. That he built it himself. That he traps and skins, chops wood, salts fish, keeps a gun out of reach, hidden like your dress.

He tells you these things in pieces, the same way he feeds you. A bowl of soup set down in front of you with no ceremony. A tin cup of well water. A torn hunk of bread.

He talks a little, asks a little.

"Never seen anything like you," he says on the second night while you cower behind his chair by the fire. Where you slept after tearing out of his arms and screaming yourself hoarse. "Wish you'd talk to me. Awfully shy, aren't you?"

It galls you. Shy. As if he is not keeping you here, naked. Vulnerable. You ache for your wings. The sky.

You say nothing.

He exhales through his nose, it sounds like a laugh. "I suppose it's not an easy thing, coming from a life like yours."

You want to ask him what he thinks your life was. But you don't want to know what he would say.

He keeps the dress in a chest under his bed.

You desperately search and find it while he is outside splitting wood. The latch is loose. Stupidly unlocked. You lift the lid and your breath catches. There it is. Your feathers, your escape, the lifeline that made you you.

Your fingers graze the fabric. It should be soft, but it feels wrong, foreign and unfamiliar under your hands. You wonder if it is altered. If it will still fit. If it's too late, tainted by his handling.

"Looking for something?"

You slam the lid shut.

John stands in the doorway, hands on his hips. Forehead slick with sweat. The axe is outside, leaning against the chopping block, but his knife is at his belt.

He'd hurt you if you tried to run, maybe kill you. You are not so sure you want to die.

You don't answer.

He crosses the room. He doesn't look angry. He looks—wry. Pleased. Like he had been waiting for this.

He kneels beside you, one arm resting on his knee, and tilts his head. Reeking of pine and tobacco smoke. "That's not for you anymore, darling."

You swallow. This is the closest you've been since he entrapped you. "It is mine."

He nods, as if conceding the point. "And what would you do with it?" he asks. "Go back? To what?"

He reaches out, wiping away a single, hot tear. The fireplace pops, and you feel the warmth of his skin before you feel the roughness of his fingers. You hate it.

"The lake is still empty. They've not come back."

You think of your sisters. You think of the wind under your wings and streaming over your back, the open sky. You think of the sound of John reviving the hearth in the morning, how he dropped a blanket over you the first night, and said, You'll freeze like that.

Of course, he thinks nothing of the fact that he's the reason why you're naked. Blind to it or willfully ignorant.

"It's just you and me now. I'll take care of you, Shy."

Shy. That isn't your name. But you'll be dead before you give your real one to him. At least something will remain yours.

You look at him. He is a big man. Broad shoulders and palms. Thick, hairy arms and a barrel chest. You've seen the thing between his legs—he's made no efforts to hide himself or alter his routine with you hiding in the corner. He touches himself in the dark when he thinks you're sleeping.

He could break you easily. But he hasn't.

Not yet.

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

"Can't believe I found you," he says. "A pretty wife, fished from the lake. Or the sky, I suppose." He smiles, chuckling as if you're both in on the joke. "Mm. Wife." He presses his thumb to your bottom lip. "Yeah, like the sound of that. I'll make you a proper wife."

The way he says it is careful. Thoughtful. It is a promise, or a threat. You cannot tell which. 

You look at the chest.

You look at John.

And you do not answer.

John returns at dusk, the door creaking wide to let in the last slant of daylight, and finds you trussed up where he left you. Your wrists are raw, delicate skin rubbed angry beneath the ropes that tightened with your struggling. 

His shadow spills over you, and a sigh slips from him, edged with disappointment. He crouches. Fingers press into your skin, prodding where the rope bit deepest.

"Damn near hurt yourself, honey," he scolds, massaging the worst of the raw spots. He touches you in the way you've seen him care for his axe. Slow, reverent, making sure nothing is too damaged. Unusable. 

A hand settles over the soft, feathery patch above your rump, fingers carding through it appreciatively, lingering before he unravels the last knot. He ignores your hissing.

The moment you're free, you scramble away, body aching. You tuck yourself behind his chair, peeking out with sharp, distrustful eyes. He lets you go, lets you think you've won some small mercy. 

Then he turns his back, shaking out his coat, unpacking the sack he carried in, setting out each item on the table. Dull, practical offerings—salt, flour, needles, twine. Things for a life you don't want. Things for a home you will never call yours. And last, draped over his forearm, a dress. Mundane. Plain, homespun, the color of stone.

But you are distracted. Staring at the chest.

He only addresses your fixation when he's finished, and hauls it out from under the bed. 

"Take a look."

You do. You don't want to, but you do. Your gaze flicks to him first, wary, waiting for the trap. You open it, and your stomach drops.

Your head snaps up, stuttering, eyes glossing over with hot, helpless rage. 

His smile stretches, knowing. Then, he produces the last item from his trip and draws a bundle from the sack.

He explains it's the reason why he's later than expected. A special order that took hours and a bit of coin, but was well worth it. The seamstress did fine work.

Isn't it pretty?

See the little wing pattern she stitched in?

They're the only wings you'll have now.

He holds it out, delicate feathers and lace draping over his hand, the ruined remnants of your freedom reshaped into something grotesque. A wedding veil.

"Try it on for me, darling," he murmurs, offering it with one hand and adjusting himself with the other. "Let me see my bride."

[olderwomenenthusiast]

southern accent (spencer reid)

PAIRING: spencer reid & fem reader DESCRIPTION: spencer is fascinated, maybe more than by your southern accent CAUTION: swearing, the usual smut, a flustered spencer WORD COUNT: 4.6k AUTHOR'S NOTE: proof read? obviously not x

You were frustrated. More than frustrated, actually. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk in the BAU bullpen, knuckles turning white as you glared at your computer screen. The case report you had painstakingly typed up had just disappeared into the void of your glitchy system. And then, to top it off, the printer jammed when you tried to get a hard copy of what little had been saved.

Spencer had been watching you for a while. He always did, though he’d never admit it. But this time, he noticed something different - something fascinating.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, voice sharper than usual.

He tilted his head slightly. There was something about your voice… a shift he couldn’t quite place at first. Then you exhaled harshly and muttered again, this time with an unmistakable drawl, “Lord help me, I swear this stupid thing is ‘bout to get thrown across the room.”

Spencer’s breath hitched. That was not how you usually sounded.

He blinked, taken aback, his analytical mind scrambling for an explanation. He had known you for quite some time now, and while you had once casually mentioned growing up in the South, your accent had always been faint, almost nonexistent. But now? Now it dripped from your lips like honey, slow and warm, curling around your vowels and stretching them out in ways that sent an unexpected shiver down his spine.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the situation at hand and not the way his stomach suddenly felt like it was flipping over itself. He knew accents could resurface in moments of high emotion, but knowing that intellectually did nothing to prepare him for the way yours affected him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice slightly uneven, betraying his intrigue.

You groaned, pressing your hands to your temples. “No, Spencer, I ain’t okay. This dang system just ate my report, and now the printer’s actin’ like it was built in the Stone Age.”

There it was again. That thick, sweet twang wrapping around every syllable. Spencer felt his pulse quicken. He wasn’t sure why this was affecting him so much, but he couldn’t ignore it. He found himself leaning in slightly, completely absorbed.

“I—uh—I can help,” he offered quickly, clearing his throat. He hoped you didn’t notice the faint pink rising to his cheeks.

You sighed, frustration ebbing slightly as you finally turned to look at him. “You sure, sugar? ‘Cause at this point, I’m ‘bout ready to throw in the towel.”

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath. Sugar. You had never called him that before. He suddenly felt like his brain had short-circuited.

“I—uh—yeah. Yes. I’m sure,” he stammered, quickly reaching for the keyboard to avoid making eye contact.

You didn’t seem to notice his internal crisis, but Derek, who had been passing by, certainly did. Morgan shot Spencer a knowing smirk, arching a brow before strolling off without a word.

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He was going to fix your computer. He was going to focus. He was definitely not going to think about how much he suddenly wanted to hear you frustrated more often.

Or worse, what else that accent would sound like in different circumstances.

Later, in the breakroom, Spencer found himself cornered by Morgan, who was leaning casually against the counter with an all-too-knowing grin.

"So, pretty boy," Morgan started, crossing his arms. "You got a thing for accents, or just hers?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee. "W-what? I don't..I mean, it's just. It's fascinating how regional dialects can resurface under stress. It's purely academic."

Morgan snorted. "Right. Purely academic. That's why you looked like you'd been hit with a freight train back there." He smirked, watching Spencer squirm. "Be honest, man. You like it when she gets all riled up, don't you?"

Spencer opened his mouth to protest but, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I'd like to hear it in my bed."

The room went silent. Spencer’s eyes widened in horror as Morgan's grin stretched impossibly wider.

"Oh-ho, Reid," Morgan laughed, shaking his head. "Now that is something I did not expect."

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is going to haunt me forever, isn't it?"

Morgan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Oh, pretty boy, you have no idea. This one's getting filed under 'Reid's Greatest Hits' - right at the top."

Morgan, of course, didn’t keep it to himself. Over the next few hours, he made sure to drop little hints whenever you were around.

“You know, sweetheart,” he said casually when you grabbed a file from his desk, “it’s real funny how some people find accents so… intoxicating.”

You arched a brow. “Uh-huh. And what’s that got to do with me?”

Morgan smirked. “Oh, nothin’. Just an observation.”

Later, when you reached for your coffee, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “I bet that drawl sounds even better behind closed doors.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “What the hell, Morgan?”

He just laughed and walked off, leaving you thoroughly confused - and curious.

By the time you finally cornered Spencer, you had a strong suspicion that whatever Morgan had been hinting at involved the good doctor himself.

“Okay, what the hell is goin’ on with you?” you finally demanded, catching him in the hallway when he thought he was in the clear. Your accent was softer now, but still present, and Spencer cursed the way it made his stomach twist.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked, adjusting his satchel, avoiding your eyes.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your gaze. “You’ve been actin’ weird all day. Avoidin’ me like I got the plague. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were runnin’ from me.”

Spencer swallowed hard, knowing he was caught. His brain was screaming at him to say something, anything that wasn’t the truth. But instead, his mouth betrayed him. Again.

“I, um… I just—I didn’t mean to say that earlier.”

You blinked. “Say what?”

Spencer turned red. “What I said to Morgan. About… your accent. And my—uh—bed.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Spencer wished the ground would swallow him whole. But then - then you smiled. It wasn’t mocking, nor cruel. No, it was slow and teasing, a wicked glint in your eye.

“Well now, Dr. Reid,” you drawled, voice dipping into that honeyed Southern lilt. “That’s quite the confession.”

Spencer’s brain short-circuited. Again. He opened and closed his mouth, his thoughts scrambling like papers caught in a windstorm. He had no idea how to recover from this. How did one backpedal from such a blatant admission?

“You—uh—weren’t supposed to hear that,” he finally managed, cringing internally because he basically just told you that himself – aloud. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, gripping the strap of his satchel like it was a lifeline.

You took a slow step forward, and Spencer, for all his intelligence, had nowhere to run. He was effectively trapped, his back against the wall, your voice curling around him like a warm, velvety ribbon.

“So… you like my accent, huh?” You let the words roll off your tongue lazily, like you had all the time in the world to watch him squirm.

Spencer’s breath hitched. “I...it’s—um—linguistically speaking...”

“Oh, bless your heart,” you teased, reaching out to lightly tug at his tie. It was barely a touch, but Spencer felt it like an electric shock. “You can dress it up however you like, sugar, but the way you reacted earlier tells me all I need to know.”

Spencer swore his heart was trying to escape his chest. “I—uh—”

You leaned in, just close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his ear. “And just so you know… I don’t mind one bit.”

His brain completely flatlined.

You pulled back, giving him one last lingering glance before turning on your heel and sauntering away, hips swaying just enough to be intentional.

Spencer stood there, stunned into silence, pulse racing, mouth slightly parted.

“Oh-ho, pretty boy,” came Morgan’s unmistakable voice from behind him. “You are so screwed.”

Spencer groaned, pressing his forehead against the wall.

He was so in trouble.

The bullpen was eerily quiet now, empty save for the two of you. Everyone else had left ages ago, even Morgan, though not without throwing Spencer one last knowing smirk before heading out.

Spencer had tried, like really tried to shake the feeling that had been simmering in his chest ever since your little exchange in the hallway. But it was impossible when you were still here, moving around like you had no idea what you were doing to him.

He stole a glance at you as you gathered your things, your soft hum filling the silence, that accent of yours still lingering in his mind like an unsolved puzzle he desperately wanted to figure out.

He was so screwed.

“Y’ready, sugar?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Spencer blinked rapidly. “Uh yeah. Yes. Ready.”

You smirked, clearly amused by how frazzled he still was, and led the way toward the elevator. The ride down was quiet, but not awkward. The air was thick with something unspoken, something Spencer wasn’t quite sure how to navigate.

When you stepped outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city. You started toward your car, and Spencer, ever the gentleman, fell into step beside you.

It was a short walk, but with each step, Spencer felt his nerves coil tighter. He knew he should say something, should at least attempt to recover from his earlier humiliation, but his words failed him.

Finally, as you reached your car, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Well, uh… goodnight,” he said, voice slightly higher than usual.

You raised a brow, lips quirking as you leaned back against the car door. “That’s it?”

Spencer frowned. “What do you mean?”

You tilted your head, studying him, clearly enjoying the way he fidgeted under your gaze. Then, before he could register what was happening, your fingers hooked around his tie, giving it a gentle tug.

Spencer barely had time to gasp before your lips crashed into his.

A soft, muffled sound of surprise escaped him, but he didn’t pull away. No, he melted into you, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your waist, fingers twitching against the fabric of your blouse.

Your lips moved slowly, deliberately, and Spencer - despite his usual awkwardness - was a quick learner. He responded in kind, his breath hitching when you deepened the kiss just slightly, your body pressing against his.

It was intoxicating.

Everything about you, the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers tightened around his tie, that damn accent still lingering in the air, had him utterly undone.

When you finally pulled back, Spencer’s lips were parted, his breathing uneven, his pupils blown wide.

You smirked. “Goodnight, sugar.”

Spencer stood there, frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. You had kissed him. You had kissed him. And it had been… electrifying.

He swallowed thickly, adjusting his tie like it would somehow fix the fact that his entire body was burning from the inside out. His lips tingled, still carrying the warmth of yours, but he forced himself to take a step back.

“Uh - goodnight,” he said again, voice weak, shaky.

Then, like an absolute idiot, he turned and started walking away.

You watched him go, amusement flickering in your eyes as you leaned against your car. Bless his heart, you thought, shaking your head.

But Spencer only made it a few steps before something inside him snapped.

No.

No, he couldn’t just walk away from that.

Without another thought, he spun on his heel and strode back toward you, determination flashing in his eyes.

Before you could even register what was happening, Spencer’s hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks with a newfound confidence.

Then he kissed you.

Not hesitant, not unsure - this time, it was fierce.

Your back hit the car as he pressed against you, his fingers threading through your hair, tilting your head just the way he wanted. His lips moved against yours with a hunger you hadn’t expected from him, but damn, you weren’t about to complain.

A soft noise escaped you, and that sound, that sound, sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. His grip tightened slightly, one hand slipping to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you now. Like he’d been holding back for far too long. Like he needed to make up for the mistake of walking away in the first place.

And God, he was good at it.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“That,” he murmured, his voice low, rough, “was the actual goodnight.”

You blinked up at him, dazed, lips still tingling. Then, with a slow, wicked smile, you whispered, “Well, sugar… if that’s how you say goodnight, I might need you to stay a little longer.”

Spencer’s breath was still uneven, his hands still gripping you like he was afraid you might disappear. Your words echoed in his head - if that’s how you say goodnight, I might need you to stay a little longer - and something inside him snapped.

He kissed you again, harder this time, as if the act itself might ground him, might make you more real in this fleeting moment. His body pressed against yours, his fingers digging into your hips, and you let out a soft moan against his lips, the sound like a spark to dry tinder.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice hoarse, desperate, like he was fighting a battle with himself.

You exhaled a shaky breath, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer, your heart racing with both anticipation and something deeper, more vulnerable. “Don’t you dare stop, sugar.”

That was all the permission he needed.

With a low growl, Spencer’s hands moved quickly, his fingers fumbling with the car handle before it gave way with a soft click. His urgency had you breathless as he guided you inside, never breaking contact, never letting you slip away from him. The car was cramped, but neither of you cared.

The moment you pulled Spencer into the backseat with you, any hesitation he might have had melted away. His body pressed flush against yours, his lips moving hungrily over your own as the car door slammed shut behind him.

It was rushed, desperate, like the two of you had been holding back for far too long, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping the flood.

Spencer’s hands were everywhere - trailing down your sides, gripping your hips, sliding up under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. He groaned against your mouth when your nails raked lightly over his scalp, tugging at his curls just enough to make his hips jerk against yours.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice shaky as he rested his forehead against yours. “You.. this..God, I want you so bad.”

His confession sent a shiver down your spine, and you rolled your hips against him again, grinning when you felt just how hard he was through his slacks.

“I can feel that, sugar,” you teased, your accent dripping, knowing damn well what it did to him.

Spencer let out a strangled moan, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, but there was no frustration in his voice - only pure need.

“Mm, not before I make it worth your while,” you whispered, slipping your fingers down between your bodies to work at his belt.

His breath hitched, his entire body tensing as you made quick work of the buckle, then the button, then the zipper. The second your hand slipped beneath the fabric, wrapping around his cock, Spencer whimpered.

“Jesus Christ --”

His head dropped to your shoulder, his hips jerking into your touch as you stroked him slowly, teasingly, savoring the way he trembled beneath your fingers.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” you mused, kissing the shell of his ear.

Spencer groaned, his teeth grazing over your neck before he retaliated, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, slipping between your folds.

“Shit --” Your back arched, a gasp tearing from your lips as he teased your entrance, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured in awe, sliding one long finger inside of you, then another, curling them just right. “Is this all for me?”

You moaned, rocking against his hand, your grip tightening around him. “All for you, baby. Just you.”

Spencer groaned at your words, capturing your lips in another desperate kiss as he worked you open, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes.

The car windows were completely fogged now, the space thick with the sound of your heavy breaths, your moans, the slick slide of skin against skin.

And then, just as you were teetering on the edge, he pulled away. His hands suddenly gripping your hips as he pushed you back against the seat, his eyes dark with hunger.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasped.

You didn’t hesitate.

You lifted your hips, shoving your jeans down just enough, and Spencer did the same, his movements frantic, desperate.

And then - God, then - he was there, his tip pressing against you, his breathing ragged.

“Tell me you want this,” he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You cupped his face, brushing your lips over his. “I need this, Spencer.”

That was all it took.

The second Spencer thrust inside you, a ragged groan tore from his lips, his forehead dropping against yours.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers gripping your hips, nails digging in like he was afraid you’d disappear. “You’re so - Jesus, you’re tight.”

Your body clenched around him at the filth in his voice, at the way his words were completely wrecked, breathless. He was already losing it, and you’d barely even started.

“You like that, baby?” you murmured, voice thick with your accent, teasing as you rolled your hips up against him. “Like how good I feel wrapped around you?”

Spencer groaned, his hands flexing against your skin. “Yes—I can’t—God, I can’t even think.”

“Then don’t,” you whispered, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him whimper. “Just fuck me, sugar.”

And he did.

He pulled back and slammed into you, deep and hard, the force of it knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Fuck, Spencer --”

The words barely left your lips before he set a brutal pace, thrusting into you again and again, deep enough that you could feel every inch of him stretching you open, filling you to the point of pure blissful pain.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough and shaking as his hips snapped against yours. " I need to feel more.”

His hands roamed your body, greedy, desperate, palming your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers until you cried out.

“Spence --”

He swallowed your moan with a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he fucked into you harder, faster, like he couldn’t get close enough, like he needed to own you completely.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he panted against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “You like this, don’t you? You like letting me take you like this?”

“Yesyes, baby, don’t stop..”

He growled, his teeth scraping against your jaw, down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

His fingers found your clit, circling it just right, making you arch against him, nails clawing at his back.

“That’s it,” he groaned, watching you unravel beneath him, his pace turning even more frantic. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, I wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

Your whole body tightened at his words, the filth of them pushing you even closer to the edge.

His thrusts turned brutal, deep, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, over and over, dragging you closer and closer to pure bliss.

“Spencer, oh my God..”

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned, his fingers pressing against your clit just right, his cock hitting deep, his breath hot against your skin. “I wanna feel it, I need to feel you fall apart for me.”

And you did.

Your whole body clenched, your back arching as you screamed his name, pleasure crashing through you in wave after wave.

Spencer cursed, his hips stuttering, his grip on you bruising as he followed, a wrecked moan leaving his lips as he buried himself deep inside you. His whole body shaking as he came hard, spilling into you with a groan that was damn near filthy.

For a long moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the quiet hum of the city outside.

Spencer’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm. Then he let out a breathless, wrecked laugh, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses against your damp skin.

“Well,” he murmured, still catching his breath, “that was… insane.”

You smirked, running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “That was just the first round, sugar.”

Spencer groaned, already hardening again inside you.

“Oh, fuck.”

Spencer’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as he pressed his forehead against yours, barely able to keep his hands still as he traced patterns down your back. But you weren’t done yet. Not even close.

Without warning, you flipped yourself around, swift and confident. Spencer's eyes widened as he realized what you were doing, and before he could process it, you had already positioned yourself over him, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist, his fingers digging into your skin.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice raw, desperate. He could barely take his eyes off your body as you lowered yourself slowly onto his still-hardening cock, the slow stretch sending waves of pleasure through both of you.

You could feel every inch of him filling you, stretching you out and the tightness in your chest twisted with desire as you began to ride him slowly at first. The feeling of control was intoxicating, and you moved deliberately, savoring every moment.

Spencer’s hands couldn’t stay still again. One hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple, making you gasp in pleasure. The other hand trailed down, gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, helping you move faster, deeper.

“Fuck, you feel so damn good,” Spencer moaned, his eyes glued to your body as you rocked against him, your breath coming in shaky gasps. “You’re gonna make me lose it again…”

You responded by grinding harder, faster, desperate for the release that was building between you. Spencer’s hand tightened around your breast, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipples, drawing out soft moans from you. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body trembling as the pressure in your core built.

“Spencer, I - oh God - I’m close,” you breathed, your movements becoming more frantic as you chased that release, that perfect feeling of completion.

“Me too,” he rasped, his voice so strained with lust that it made your whole body ache. “I want to feel you come all over me. Do it, baby. Let go…”

You did.

With one final, desperate movement, your body exploded in pleasure, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. You gasped his name, gripping onto him as the waves of ecstasy swept through you. Spencer wasn’t far behind, thrusting up into you as his own release finally overtook him. His hands were gripping your hips so tightly it left marks, pulling you down against him, ensuring every inch of him stayed buried deep inside as he came with a groan.

You both collapsed against each other, sweaty and breathless, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. The only sound in the car was the rhythm of your heavy breathing. Slowly, you lifted yourself off him, a satisfied moan slipping from your lips as his softened cock slid out of you.

You both just stared at each other for a moment, the air between you thick with tension and satisfaction. A small trickle of his cum dripped from you, slowly running down his cock as you both took in the aftermath. Spencer’s hands were still on your body, unable to let go, even now.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his lips still swollen from your kisses.

You grinned down at him, wiping away a bit of the mess from your thighs with a teasing finger. “Yeah. That was perfect.”

Spencer’s grin grew, though his eyes still burned with want. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he said softly.

After everything, the both of you sat there for a moment, catching your breath, the cool night air gently brushing against your skin. Spencer’s hand was still resting on your thigh, his fingertips lightly tracing over the sensitive skin, the aftermath of what had just happened still hanging heavily in the air between you.

With a deep sigh, you slowly pulled yourself off of him, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your release. Spencer watched you, his eyes dark and full of desire, as you reached for your clothes, grabbing your top off the floor. He followed suit, his motions slow but deliberate, as if he were savoring every second of this.

He didn’t break eye contact as he began buttoning his shirt back up, his fingers working with practiced ease, but you noticed the faint tremor in his hands, the evidence of how much you had completely undone him.

You did the same, pulling on your jeans with a quiet hum, your movements deliberate as you slowly dressed, taking your time. There was something undeniably intimate about the way you both silently communicated with every motion, the connection between you thick and palpable.

Once you were both dressed, Spencer ran a hand through his tousled hair, sighing as he leaned against the car. “I—uh, I’m really not ready for this night to end,” he said softly, his voice still low with the remnants of desire.

You stepped closer, your body brushing against his as you reached up to adjust his collar, your fingers lingering on his skin. “Then it doesn’t have to,” you whispered, lips close to his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.

His gaze softened, his lips barely a whisper from yours as he cupped your face in his hands, eyes searching yours with something deeper than just lust. “Next time, we’ll go out—dinner, drinks, something nice. I’ll take you on a real date. I promise.”

Your lips quirked upward into a teasing smile as you reached up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was soft, lingering, as if the promise of what could come next hung in the air between you both.

“You better keep that promise, Reid,” you murmured against his lips. “Or next time, I’ll make you regret it.”

He grinned, eyes still glimmering with desire as he kissed you once more, deeper this time, a soft growl rising in his chest. “I’m counting on it,” he whispered back before pulling away slightly.

He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to walk away or pull you back in for more, before he finally let out a breath. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice almost a plea for just a little more, a touch more.

You heard his plea in his voice and smiled softly, moving closer to him again. "Come home with me?"

[mtcloudsworld]

𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 | choso.k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, black!fem!reader, pierced!reader, curlyhair!reader, plus size!reader, enemies to lovers!choso, study season turned to a little bit more than just studying, excuse any errors I will eventually edit it later on, in the meantime, enjoy :)

"F-Fuck doll!"

It was supposed to be just an innocent little study session between you two.

"Oh, Cho~"

No messing around, shenanigans or throwing insults at one another.

"Mm, baby."

Just casually studying and sharing notes for the upcoming test.

"S-Shit, that feels good."

"Y-yeah?"

"Mmhm, yeah..." Moaning, you giggle a little at the sight of his blush, lip tucked between your teeth as you press him into you completely, legs spreading wider. Allowing his face to bury into the crock of your neck, getting comfortable in your embrace as you stroked through the dark strands of his long hair. "Mmph, right there, baby, please."

But it seems like the skin tight lavender tank and shorts fit didn't help his dirty mind as it revealed the most dangerous parts of your voluptuous body. Glorious chocolate skin, pierced nipples and ass cheeks peeking from underneath.

Your hair curly and frizzy. Fresh face, black rimmed glasses and glossy mocha lips. You looked so adorable without even trying. And while you read through your literature book, it was purposefully forgotten as he stared at the side of your face. Placed under a trance by the sound of your voice. It was silky and sweet. unintentionally low and smooth like honey. In his mind, you were this small firecracker.

Always has an attitude and minds her own business. A slick mouth, bit of a temper, a brat, stubbornly annoying and cute all in one breath. You irritated him. Everytime you guys see each other it's nothing but lips smacking fun eyes rolling, insults, name calling and whatever else you could think of. You both bullied each other because you simply hated the fact that feelings were getting involved.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, acknowledged it, act upon it─ until, tonight, when you felt the light brush of his fingertips along your jaw. Your attention brought to the lustful glare in his eyes. Your own were hooded. lashes brushing along your cheeks. You try to resist. You try to resist the scent of his heartaching cologne, the warmth of his palm around your neck, fingers brushing past the back of your hair, and his thumb caressing between your cheek and bottom lip.

The intimacy of your faces were inches apart. And you, being a horny bitch, felt your thighs begin to squeeze, your heart racing, cheeks heating and lips parting. You wanted to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Nothing that would make him think you didn't want this, because you did want this. You were just too hard headed, too stubborn to admit to him that he made you feel some type of way.

The many times he's tried to make advances to you, or would tease you to just get a reaction. He knew he had an effect on you, whether you liked to admit it or not. You both knew there was something there. You both knew the chemistry, the tension and connection was unmatched like no other. When he thought you wouldn't have given in, give him the slightest satisfaction, or an ounce of curiosity, you surprised him, yet again.

Those butterflies you once tried to avoid, swarmed in the moment your lips connected, colliding against one another deliberately slow, selfishly filled with greed and yearn. Neither of you dared detached from one another as he was mercifully willing to give it to you, no questions asked. Willing to make you understand how crazy you made him feel. How that slick mouth of yours always made him want to shut you up with a kiss on the lips. Willing to show you just how deep in the mud he was for you. He was willing to give you more if you'd just ask.

But... did you really need to say anything when everything was being pushed to the side just for him to be pulled on top of you, where your legs and arms wrapped around him and held him so close? Where his each of his hands were laid flat to the ground on either side of your head as you made out hungrily? Did you really need to say anything when your tongues were so far down his throat, moaning his name? Begging for him to touch your aching pussy? Nothing needed to be said right?

It was clear as day.

He wanted it just as badly as you did.

Somewhere in the deepest, darkest part of his mind he wanted to ravish you. Toxically possess every part of your beging, taint you, mark you, mold you in this whiny little sub of a brat just so he could tame you. So he could hear you become a whimpering moaning mess, whining for him to just ruin you till you crumbled to pieces, clenching your gummy, pink walls around his veiny dick while he fucked you into a oblivion, speaking of gibberish and other nonsense, until all you can feel is your legs shake like a leaf and body quiver in overwhelmed ecstacy, till you feel yourself near your climax, seeing nothing but stars, breathless and lightheaded, your ears deafening a little and your toes aching from the intense orgasm, until...all you both could hear was bated, heavy breathes and pants.

The sounds of skin slapping skin vanishes into slow gentle thrusts and his cock rutting into you until it slips from your leaking hole and dripping cum between your thighs and he's painting your folds.

Until he's knelt before you with a mischievous, maybe even a cocky smirk as he glares past your weak anatomy completely rendered at the mercy of him─ feeling nothing but lewd exhilaration.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[strwbrychffoncke]

"—baby take off my clothes cause i got somethin' to show ya,, 1.9k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: your plan to make rafayel stay with you a little longer before his newest art exhibition works a little too well.... contains: nsfw! lnds rafayel x afab!reader ,mc!reader ,reader is wearing a dress ,teasing (giving) ,u get carried ,kissing ,making out ,marking ,biting ,missionary(?) ,needy!raf ,kinda whiny!raf ,overstimulation (brief) ,creampie ,some cute fluff afterglow ,implied cunnilingus ,thomas cameo at the end lmao ,think thats it note: (mostly edited pls standby....) released much later than i intended but i had sm trouble writing but we somehow prevailed..........

-

"do you really have to go, raf?"

he lets out a long sigh, strokes from the paintbrush light and airy on the canvas in front of him.

"i already told you that you should come with me."

"but i want you to stay here with me," you almost whine, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and leaning forward, pressing you body against his.

his breath stutters ever so slightly at your clinginess, heart picking up its speed in his chest.

"and besides...."

you rest your head on his shoulder, lips just centimeters away from his ear.

"isn't this a little much for an art exhibition?"

your voice is a hushed whisper, the sheer sound and feeling of it sending sparks through rafayel's entire body.

he's long since lost interest in his current piece, vouching to save it for later as he feels you unravel your arms and step back to give him room to turn around.

and rafayel feels his breath hitch at the sight before him.

its nothing extravagant, but maybe the simplicity of it is what stirs something up inside of him: you're wearing a silk pink slip dress, the color resembling a seashell you once found on the beach and gifted to rafayel, for good luck you'd said with a smile— and he feels like he was feeling that look right this moment, being able to look at you like this).

the neckline is just low enough for some cleavage to peek through, the top part hugging your breasts so nicely, simple crystal-like ornaments embellishing the outline (reminding him of the way light reflects off of the ocean's surface) while the bottom accentuates your waist and falls perfectly around your hips, ending just above your ass— if you so much as bent over slightly, you'd easily flash someone.

"'too much?'" rafayel mumbles your words back to you, hands reaching out to grab a hold of your hips.

"if you ask me, this is too little."

you can't help but let a laugh slip as he pulls you closer, hands pinching and caressing the silk of the fabric hugging your hips, gaze roaming up your body before making eye contact with you.

"no way am i letting anyone else see you in this."

his eyes are narrowed but his expression resembles a pout as he holds you close against him.

ah, there was that possessive side of him.

you laugh again in amusement, short and sweet, hands moving up to cover his momentarily before slowly trailing up his arms then up to hold his face, one of his hands shooting up to wrap around your wrist, turning his head towards it and planting a kiss directly onto the pulse point.

you pull him closer towards you, leaning down just slightly as if you had some special secret reserved for his ears only (despite the studio being occupied by only you both).

"then take it off."

in the next second, you capture his lips with yours, and as rafayel kisses back with equal and slowly growing fervor, the last thing on his mind is the art exhibition he's supposed to be attending in a little under an hour.

-

rafayel thinks you must've cast some sort of spell on him

since the very first time he met you to this life, you've had him wrapped around your finger without even trying— the sea god, folding to your every will.

sometimes, he thinks you forget the sheer amount of power you hold over him.

you don't know when exactly he's carried you to his bedroom, but you feel the soft mattress beneath you as he continues devouring your lips, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close as his hands roam over your body and slowly begin sliding the silk straps of your cute dress down, eager to free your breasts. he doesn't waste a second in leaning down to kiss and mark one, sucking hard on the nipple while squeezing and prodding the other in his warm hand.

"hah, raf—ah—"

your hands bury themselves in his unkempt hair, tugging at his lavender locks, pleasured sounds filling the room as rafayel switches to the neglected one, swirling his tongue around the bud, taking his time marking your tits in pretty bruises and bites.

after a couple of minutes he releases the mound with a pop, pulling back slightly, hair a mess and panting, taking in the sight of you.

he leans up towards your face once more. "you're terrible, y'know?" he mumbles against your lips before stealing kiss after kiss from them. "invading my mind like this... look what you do to me, princess."

he pins your wrists against the mattress, swallowing your whines when he bucks his hips between your thighs— against your dampening panties.

patience wearing thin, he leans back to his full height, ridding himself of his pants and freeing his hard, leaking length from their confines.

you feel your mouth water at the sight, wanting nothing more than to be filled of him completely.

rafayel smirks at the sight, stroking himself a few times before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you impossibly closer, groaning at your choice of panties— a thong-shaped one with lace, color matching your dress— sliding them down your legs and tossing them to the floor. he grabs hold of your thighs, spreading you open, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder and holding it there with one hand, other aligning himself with your leaking entrance.

"ready, princess?"

he doesn't wait for your answer.

with a single thrust, he buries himself completely inside of you, immediately moaning at the feeling of your walls hugging him tight at the sudden intrusion and growing more aroused at the moan you let out, back arching off the bed and gripping the sheets tight.

already impatient, his hips quickly form a rhythm, throwing his head back and panting into the air of the room, pleasure heightened by hearing your sweet whines and groans.

"sl-slow, slow down, raf—"

"can't— you can take it, can't you? the way you're— ahh— squeezing me tells me en-ough—"

his voice is strained and god he sounds so needy despite being the one on top, and he is— he can never get enough of you; no matter how much time you spend together, its never enough.

he's been patient, so patient, and every day with you is a blessing and a curse because he always wants more.

and you can feel it in the way he's thrusting into you, beads of sweat forming on his body, hotly panting and whining as you squeeze his cock because he always felt too good to imagine.

you think he's a bad influence. his neediness has rubbed off on you.

but he's more than willing to give every part of himself to you in every way you desire.

"ah—!"

"that feel good, princess? there?"

he pries the leg against the mattress wider, granting him more space between you as he continues hitting the same spot within you that seemed to make you flutter around him.

at this point, he knew your body and mind exceptionally well, making his mark on you in every way that he could.

"you feel too good, too good— hah, ahh— should buy you more of those pretty dresses, yeah?"

you huff out a laugh that's quickly cut off by a moan, throwing your head back deeper into the mattress, hands flying up to grip his strong arms hard as you feel yourself coming undone.

"close— so close, rafa-yel, please—"

"gonna— hah— cum inside, ah—"

your arms reach up around his neck again, pulling him closer to kiss him.

your tongues dance to their own tune as his hips slam into yours, and with some final particularly hard thrusts you gush around his cock, breaking the kiss as you cry out in pleasure.

rafayel lets your thigh down in favor of leaning his body against yours, keeping you in place as his lips trail down your jawline towards your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin as he chases his own orgasm.

"too— much, too much, raf—"

you're whining into his ear, sensitive from your orgasm, overstimulation intense, legs wrapping around his waist and tugging him impossibly closer against you to try to ground yourself in any way.

"so good, so good, princess, i'm gonna cum—"

with a couple more thrusts and a harsh bite to your shoulder, he spills himself inside of you, cry escaping your lips at the sensation of his teeth as his warmth fills you.

he rides out his high with a few more languid thrusts, planting soft kisses against his marks on your neck and shoulder before his movements completely cease.

neither of you speaks for a long moment, only holding each other close as you both catch your breath.

you rake your hands through his messy hair (courtesy of you), giggling as he pushes into your touch, eyes flitting up to you.

"so needy," you jest with a little smile.

rafayel lets out a scoff, lifting his head to look at you properly.

"says the cutie that was vying for my attention," a teasing smile tugs at his lips. "it seems i'm rubbing off on you," he proclaims, all too smugly.

"you're a bad influence," you huff, pinching his cheek.

"your bad influence," he winks and you roll your eyes, reaching to peck the same cheek you pinched.

you both stare at each other for another long moment before the artist moves to get off of you, standing at his full height, holding your thighs as he slowly pulls out, rubbing them in an act of comfort when you let out a small whimper at the loss.

"hey," you breathe out, lifting yourself up onto your elbows. "aren't you going to be late?" you tilt your head, remembering the reasoning behind this passionate night in the first place.

he lowers himself to the ground, face level with your heat, watching the globs of cum drip and stain the sheets below. he can feel himself get hard again at the sight as his hands give your thighs a gentle squeeze, planting a kiss on the inside of one before his dark gaze meets yours.

"who says i'm still going?"

-

epilogue:

thomas called the familiar number for what felt like the upteenth time that evening, trying not to lose his mind outside of the venue where more and more guests began showing up.

"where the hell is he???"

by the time and hour had passed since the designated time of arrival, thomas had already baked up some half-assed excuse as to why rafayel wouldn't be showing his face at yet another exhibition.

thomas lets out a frustrated sigh once he gets the chance to take another breather.

"at least i have the paintings," he mumbles to himself, swirling the glass of champagne in his glass as he fishes out his phone from his pocket to check for any update.

1 new message.

he unlocks his phone to check it out, and in the next second, he's gripping it so hard he thinks he might crack the screen.

"oops left my phone off thx for covering for me"

the animated sticker that accompanies the message does nothing to quell his frustrations as he shoves his phone back into his pocket without bothering to answer and downing the champagne in one go.

he makes his way back inside, deciding he'll need a lot more than just one glass tonight.

-

a/n: why is rafayel so hard to write for i have to scroll through art to get inspo but i love him very much :x

-

[organic-bloodbath]

Mingle - Part 2

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos wants to protect you at all cost and has to choose whether to continue the game or take you back home. Getting to know you better, the answer is simple.

A/N: More angsty than the first part and doesn't follow the show's plot anymore. Thank you so much for all the likes on the first part, i didn't imagine it getting so many notes 🫶🏻 I wasn't sure which way to take this story, but he's 100% obsessed and in love with her.

☆☆☆

You were holding your tray, about to go to your usual spot to eat with your team and following Dae-ho in front of you but you stopped. You looked over Thanos, seeing him by himself.

"I'll see you later," you said to Dae-ho who looked confused. "I'll go sit with Thanos tonight."

"Thanos?" Dae-ho repeated, making sure he heard you correctly. "Why would you-"

You turned around and left, not wanting to answer to any other questions Dae-ho would ask you about your sudden interest to spend time with Thanos. Mostly, because you didn't know what to say.

Why? Because he just saved you a moment ago? You weren't sure if that was the only reason or not, you had to go over to him and figure it out yourself.

When you arrived to the bunk where Thanos was sitting and already eating his food, his eyes lit up.

"Is the invite still open?" you asked awkwardly, afraid that he had been only joking earlier about asking you to join him.

"For you, of course," he said, smiling, and pat the empty space next to him on the mattress. "I saved a seat for you."

You gave him a little smile and sat on that specific spot.

"For a second i thought you had changed your mind," he said, chewing his food.

"Oh, well, i wasn't sure if you truly meant it," you admitted, avoiding his eyes at first. "But then i saw you sitting alone. Why aren't you with your friends anyway?"

"I figured you'd just get uncomfortable with them," he shrugged. "And i wanted to be alone with you, even if just for a moment."

You felt your cheeks turning red. "Why?"

He gently put his hand on your chin and turned your head to look at him.

"I want go get to know you better, pretty flower," he smiled, making you turn even more red and you immediately turned your head away, the nickname making you feel funny inside once again.

"Oh," was the only sound you managed to breathe out.

"You know, from the day one i've tried to approach you but you've been ignoring me quite well," he pointed out. "You could add it on your resume as one of your skills."

"Oh, i mean," you said nervously. "I'm not used to guys trying to get close to me before, so i really didn't think much of it."

"Not used to it?" Thanos asked, acting dramatic and overly shocked, putting his hand against his chest and not believing what he was hearing. "You're that gorgeous and guys haven't gone after you? You're lying."

"Stop it," you chuckled and the smile lingered on your lips longer than before. "Maybe i just can't take a hint very easily."

"Well, tell me something about you?" Thanos asked and thought about something for a while. "Hmm, what's your favorite type of flower?"

"Flower?"

"It's for our future date, i need to make sure i'll get you something you like," he explained. "I don't want to get you roses if you don't like roses."

"Oh, well, i don't really know. Nobody ever got me flowers before," you said, the blush sticking on your cheeks like a glue. "I suppose orchids and lilies are pretty."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

His words made you feel nice and get butterflies in your stomach, but you really didn't understand what his intentions truly were. You hadn't had many guys to show interest on you before, if any, so you had been used to the fact that you might just stay alone.

You continued your conversation and lost the track of time completely. You asked about his life as a rapper and what his life goals were in the music industry, since that was really the only thing you knew about him outside these games before now talking with him. He asked about your hobbies and in general about your interests - you could sense that he was considering to include some of them to your "date" he had mentioned.

Eventually he changed the subject to the one that you would have prefered to leave alone. The one you hadn't truthfully told even to Dae-ho or Gi-hun yet.

"So, how did you end up here?" Thanos asked. "You know, debts and all."

"Well, i wouldn't want to bother you with that. It's pretty depressing," you said after being quiet for a moment, twirling the rest of your food with your fork. You were a little nervous to open up to him about it now that you were having a nice conversation, him making you even laugh here and there. But for some reason, you had started to become more comfortable around him and able to talk more freely.

"I'd be glad to hear it, if you want to share," Thanos said, encouraging you to tell him, but only if you were comfortable with it.

"Oh, well," you sighed. "The main reason i came here was because my little brother has cancer." You took a deep breath to get the words properly out of your mouth. It was already hard to think about and even harder to talk about it without crying. You tried to say the words as fast as you could, otherwise they would be stuck in your throat. "We don't have money for his treatments, my mom doesn't earn a lot from her work, and if we don't start treating it soon, he will die."

You were looking at your lap, scared to glance back at Thanos. You were feeling your eyes becoming wet and you were afraid you'd start to cry in front of him. He was quiet for a while, speechless. He hadn't been prepared for you having such a heavy reason to be here.

"How old is your brother?" Thanos asked softly.

"He's just 11," you answered and felt tears rising up into your eyes. You hated talking about this because even a single thought of losing your brother broke you. You wiped a tear off your face as soon as it had appeared out of your eye.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled, trying to force yourself to lighten up. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"No, no you didn't ruin anything, it's okay," he assured you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry i made you bring it up."

You buried your face on his shoulder.

"I just want to get back home, i don't care how much money i'll get and if it's enough to cover everything," you mumbled. "I just have to go and take care of my brother."

You stayed like that for a while, Thanos comforting you the best he could. Now, the need to protect you at any cost grew even stronger.

☆☆☆

It was time to vote, whether you'd want to stay and play the games or go home with the money earned by far.

Thanos was having mixed feelings. Personally, he would have of course continued the game and played for more money - the current amount wasn't enough to cover all his debts. One more game, that was what had been going on in Thanos' head.

One more game.

But when he turned to look at you, standing further away from him with your group, your gaze stuck on the floor, looking anxious - he felt something sting and break his heart.

Every day here was a new possibility to die. None of you knew what tomorrow's game was, it was always a total surprise until you started playing it.

What if the game tomorrow would be too hard for you and you wouldn't make it? Thanos couldn't live with himself anymore if he had decided to continue the game and survived, but you lost your life, as would your brother.

Player 230.

Thanos stood in front of the two buttons, gaze jumping between them. Before getting to know you, his choice would have been simple. But now?

"Player 230," the pink guard in front of Thanos said, he hadn't realised how long he had been standing there doing nothing. "Please make your choice."

Eventually, against all the odds, Thanos pressed the red button, giving one more point to the X team. He glanced towards Nam-gyu who looked at Thanos like he couldn't believe his eyes what he was seeing. Thanos ignored him and walked to the red side, appearing next to you.

"Told you i'll get you home, pretty flower," Thanos whispered to you.

You looked at him like you were sure you were seeing things. Being here had finally made you to hallucinate. Surely he hadn't chosen to go home only because of you, he couldn't be that attached to you already.

"But you still needed a lot more money," you pointed out, furrowing your eyebrows. You would have understood if he wanted to and chose to stay. You weren't a burden he had to bear.

"And i'll find a way to pay my debts on my own," Thanos answered.

The waiting felt like it took forever. There weren't that many players left anymore, but it felt like everything was happening twice slower than in reality.

Finally, after the last player had voted, you looked at the scores and you felt like your entire world was slowing down even more and you weren't able to get air into your lungs.

The situation was 50-51. The 'O' team won yet again. You wanted to break down and cry, right then and there. When you had seen Thanos approaching you with the red patch on his jacket, somehow you were sure that this time you were going home, as if the decision was depending purely on him.

If just two more people would have voted for X, you'd be on your way home. But no, you had to stay for another game.

"I'm sorry," Thanos said and held your hand, looking genuinely concerned. "I really am."

"It's fine," was all you said until you walked back to your bunk without sparing a single glance at anyone else.

☆☆☆

Laying on your bed on your side you weren't able to sleep. You only stared ahead of you, feeling hopeless. You wanted out of this place so badly and the voting tonight had given you way too much false hope that this could actually be over soon, just to be completely crushed.

You sat up and wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself so you'd be able to sleep atleast a little bit.

You were thinking about your little brother. He deserved so much more, had his entire life ahead of him. If you were able to take his cancer to you, you would take it any day and let him live. What if he had passed away during your stay here? What if you'd go back home and meet only your mother who had been crying for days and refused to eat, sleep or do anything?

You had to bite your lip to keep the sobs inside you, afraid you'd wake up the people sleeping near you.

"Can't sleep huh?" Thanos whispered, you didn't look at him. You had seen him approaching from the corner of your eye, even though you hadn't fully turned to look at him. "Listen," he continued and took your hand in his. "I'm going to make sure you'll get out of here, okay?"

"And how are you going to do that?" you scoffed, accidentally letting out a single sob. "You don't even know the next game."

He sat down on the bed with you and took your hand in his. He didn't know how he could comfort you.

"I don't, but i'll do whatever i can to get you home," he said and tried to give you a comforting smile. "I'll protect you, no matter what, and when the votings come, i'm absolutely sure that we'll get to leave this place."

"What are you going to do? Cheat the system?"

"If i have to," he smirked. He hesitated for a second until lifted his hand to wipe the remaining tears off your cheek.

☆☆☆

It was time for the next game. You arrived into a room which had four shapes on one of the walls.

The same symbols as in playing cards.

♤♡◇♧

The game was called Dalgona. It was exactly the same game Gi-hun had talked to you about in the beginning when he had thought Dalgona must be the second game like three years ago. Only the shapes had now changed.

The reason why they had suddenly brought dalgona back to this year was unclear to you. Unclear to everybody. By now everyone had thought that only the first game was the same and they had changed the rest of them to new ones.

Players were commanded to line up in front of one of the shapes, chosen by their own will. Gi-hun immediately told you to choose the diamond, it would be the easiest one.

Thanos let you go for the diamond, but he chose the heart, even though you insisted that he'd take the diamond too.

"Come on, it's not that much harder, i'll be fine," he assured you with a smile, as if it wasn't a big deal.

If you were going to die just because you accidentally cracked a wrong piece of a cookie off, that would be super embarrassing to explain in a funeral. Although, dying here you wouldn't even get a funeral.

You sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and the time started running down, one second at a time. You took the needle in your shaky hands and carefully started carving the lines of the shape, afraid to press too hard and crack the cookie in half any minute.

One thing you were afraid as well was when someone would be shot, your hand would accidentally slip due to the loud noise and make you fail too.

Thanos took quick glances at you once in a while, to make sure you were still sitting there. His hands were sweating and his heart beating fast.

The only sounds during the game were only the gunshots and the voice announcing which players had just been eliminated. You flinched each time, even though you had tried to prepare yourself for that.

This wasn't a game where Thanos would be able to help you and he hated it. On the first game, he had protected you by running in front of you. On the second game, you had other players in your group to help you. On the third game, he had saved you by taking you to a room with him when you had been left all alone.

Now, you were all on your own, he wasn't able to say a single word for you, you all had to stay quiet and only concentrate on your own task. He didn't think you were weak, not at all, he just needed to be there as a backup plan, ready to catch and save you if something went wrong.

Thanos was afraid he'd crack the cookie any second. If he was to die now, there would be one person less to vote for X and get you back home, though he couldn't know how many people from the blue side would be killed today.

He wasn't sure when had been the moment when he had decided that protecting you had become his number one priority. It just naturally came to him.

On the distance, Thanos saw one player to use a lighter to heat up the needle and then poke the cookie. By the looks of her face, she was subtly looking around her to see if the guards were watching her. He only had the pills inside his cross and they weren't much of a help for him right now.

Thanos was glad that you had chosen the easiest shape and not spades or clubs. He did believe in you and was sure to see you alive on the other side.

His heart stopped when he cracked a small piece off from the tip of the heart when he had completed the task. It was only a very tiny piece and the cookie still looked like a complete heart, but he didn't know how detailed and harsh the system was here. Thanos saw a guard approaching him and showed the heart to him, hiding the slightly broken tip with his finger as he held it up.

Pass.

Thanos let out a breath of relief, being able to breathe again properly. He didn't know why, but that was one of the most stressful games by far.

You were still carving yours as Thanos walked outside, but you weren't far behind. Just barely 20 seconds later, you had finished your task as well.

Pass.

☆☆☆

"Señorita, excuse me," Thanos said, making you stop before you managed to go and talk to Dae-ho, who had finished the challenge before you. Thanos was standing closer than you had expected, though he had seen you first.

"Yes, señor?" you said back sarcastically.

"I have a gift for you," he smiled.

"A gift?"

"I'll give you my heart if you'll let me have yours, after this is all over," he said, genuine kindness in his eyes.

"What are you on about?" That was such a cheesy and odd line to say out of nowhere, but it did make your heart skip a beat.

"When we get home tomorrow, i'll take you out soon, after you've seen your brother."

"How are you so sure we'll get home? People might vote to stay."

"Have a little bit hope, pretty flower."

He took your hand in his, you didn't resist.

"Keep this safe for me, okay?" he said and put something in your hand, closing your fist around it. Then, he left without another word.

You opened your hand, seeing the heart he had carved out from the cookie laying on your palm.

☆☆☆

The fourth game had eliminated only 29 players in total, so there was 72 left.

Thanos tried to count the players how many of them had blue patches and red patches on their jackets, but he lost count and wasn't sure if he had counted some people twice or not at all.

Thanos went to the bathroom where he found his former group.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Nam-gyu slowly said and crossed his arms on his chest. He had three other guys around him, one of them Min-su. "Coming back to us after betraying us like that? I think not."

He stepped closer to Thanos.

"Sorry to say, but i don't think you're welcome anymore."

"I don't give a shit about you, Nam-su," Thanos said and didn't care to hear him trying to correct Thanos for saying his name wrong again. "Tonight, you better all vote for X or tomorrow i may not be in as good mood as right now, seeing you," Thanos said loudly and then glanced at Min-su, who still had the blue patch on his jacket. Thanos walked towards him and trapped him between himself and a wall. Thanos tried to change the expression on his face to more kind and sweet. "You'll do that for me, right Min-su?"

Thanos gave him a sweet smile, but Min-su hesitated without a word, both Nam-gyu and Thanos looking at him. Min-su wasn't entirely sure which side was safer for him to choose.

"What's up with you anyway? Don't tell me that woman has gotten into your head this badly. I'm not going home yet when there's more money to be earned."

"You can earn your money elsewhere," Thanos stated, gritting his teeth.

"Seriously, dude. I get that she's hot but-"

"One more word and you'll lose a tooth," Thanos threatened, pointing at him with his finger.

To be honest, Thanos wasn't sure how he had fallen so hard for you in such a little time. He had never been so smitten about a woman before, but there was something different about you, and he needed to know you better, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

☆☆☆

The votings came and this time, it was easier for him to press X than last time. The money he had earned by far wasn't enough for his debts, but he'd figure it out how to get the rest when you had managed to get out of here.

Both of you had now voted and were only waiting for the result. Thanos glanced at you and you looked like you were going to be sick. He took your hand in his, making you jump a little bit for the sudden touch, but you let your fingers wrap between his. He gave you a comforting squeeze.

Internally, Thanos felt terrified. What if he had only given you false promises and you'd have to stay for the fifth game again? You were so broken yesterday that he didn't think he'd be able to see the same look on your face again this fast. You would definitely lose any trust you still might have for his words, not believe anything he would say to you anymore.

You hid your eyes with your left hand, not wanting to watch how the scores were changing and how much X was losing to O.

Then, all the votes were in and for a moment Thanos' heart stopped by looking at the score.

37-35.

"Y/N," Thanos whispered, finally using your real name and not only the nickname he had chosen, and brushed your left hand as a sign to let it drop from your face. "You can look now."

When you saw the scores on the broad, your knees felt so weak that you had to cling on Thanos' jacket not to fall on the floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and you broke down in tears.

"Oh my god," you laughed between the tears. "Thanos. Oh my god."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, startling Thanos at first how you pressed your body against his, but he wrapped his arms around you securely. Surprisingly, a hint of red was rising on his cheeks, along with a smile.

"I can go back home," you said against his jacket.

You pulled back and without thinking, you pressed a light kiss on Thanos' cheek.

"Thank you."

"So," Thanos lingered and took your hands in his. "I'll pick you up on Saturday?"

You bit your lip. "Okay."

☆☆☆

A/N: I'm not sure what i think about this compared to the first part, but i hope you liked it 🫶🏻

Tags:

@justsisse

@septywitch

[ippipo]

self aware caleb

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | smutty stuff | part 4 | part 5

it was merely sexual attraction. from the moment he saw you, he felt attracted towards you sexually. you were funny, witty, so you, and god, it hurt. he swore it was just sexual attraction.

it was a sick obsession. a throwback to his in-game personality that made him easily vulnerable to these situations. he just wanted to keep you with him all the time. but good lord, did it hurt him when you were down. he hurts for you. but he kept telling himself that it was just obsession, infatuation at least.

but the more he spoke with you, the realisation dawned upon him that he was down bad. you haunt him every night before he goes to sleep and bless him like food in famine every morning he wakes up. it was addicting. he wanted all of you and every part of you.

and it truly, absolutely, devastatingly hit him when his desire to be next to you increased tenfold. he needed you so much, it made him want to curl up into a box small enough to suffocate him and take him away from all the pain he was enduring being away from you.

so he decided to risk it all and come to you. he didn't realize he needed you that badly until that one moment when you were talking to him as usual, laughing by yourself while reminiscing something funny from your childhood. and during that time, a question popped up that made him wonder.

"you can't come here right? does that mean you'll go back to mc if this thing, you know, stops?"

and the answer was as clear as day.

he should.

but not a single inch of him wanted to. he only wanted to be with you. when all your life has been dedicated to loving someone against natural will, it crumbles in mere seconds when you find out it wasn't meant to be. and during that period of feeling inadvertently lost when you find someone who gives you a sense of self and structure to your meaningless life, you cling onto them.

you cling so tightly that the mere thought of finding someone else or going back to the life you used to have seems more scrambled than you'd expect. to caleb, it felt like a million puzzle pieces had been scattered everywhere and when he realized your existence, everything fell back into place.

but when he did try going back to his life, skyhaven, mc, and every other thing related to his past, it felt like something had ruthlessly ruined his puzzle, throwing around all the pieces left and right so he could never rearrange them.

this uncomfortable reality of his prompted him to escape, pull every string that he could and fight against the odds of time and space to reach you. it wasn't easy at all, but he knew it was worth it.

he watches as you laugh with your friend and sylus, and he wishes it was him in their place. the dull ache in his chest lingers as he notices how your phone remained untouched throughout the night, contemplating whether to text you or not.

the ache began spreading like wildfire the more he waited. and he decided it was time to stop stalling.

kale 🥬

go to your room

you spring up from your seat when you hear the sound of a notification, not expecting it so late at night. you look at andy who was passed out, and sylus was no longer visible on the screen.

your heart drops when you read the name of the sender, but it wasn't the time to wallow anymore.

you

what the fuck?

where have you been?

why are you texting me now?

you couldn't help the way your hands were shivering as you type. "what is wrong with you, caleb?" you whisper to yourself as your eyes well up again.

kale 🥬

im sorry ill answer everything but js go to your room please

you

fine

and you get up to leave the living room, ignoring the way your heart was pounding against your chest and a lump in your throat that made it difficult to breathe.

"hey," an eerily familiar voice greets you in the dark. you look around frantically only to see nothing but pitch black.

you flinch when a hand grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close to a body. a tall, lean, muscular body. you could feel his chest, a husky vanilla cologne filling your senses, overwhelming you and making you sensitive to everything around.

you try not to scream, and you didn't. everything felt oddly alright. nothing out of place, as if you were expecting it already, expecting someone already.

"did you miss me?" the damning voice whispers so close to your ear, sending a chill down your spine and straight to your core, arousal pooling. but at the same time, your body screamed to react violently, make it known that you were upset and angry.

and so, you turn around to face him, and push him by the chest. "what the fuck, caleb?!" you whisper-yell. he didn't budge at all, and your fingers lingered over his chest a little longer than you intended them to, but this was not the time to feel horny because you were freaking out.

you close the door behind you and everything becomes even darker. you locate yourself in front of him and grab his collar. "tell me what's happening. why are you here—no, how are you here? d-do you know how long i've waited for you to talk to me? not even a single text from you for so fucking long," you couldn't stop your voice from quivering as you punch his chest in anger, not impactful enough apparently with how he didn't wince at all.

he brings his hand towards your face to caress your cheek but you slap it away. "don't fucking touch me."

you gasp when you realise what you had just said, hands retracting to your sides. the pained look in his eyes made it so very clear. "i'm sorry, i-i didn't mean that," you quickly try to explain. nevertheless, he shoots a sad smile towards you and caresses your cheek. the warmth in his touch makes you lean towards his hand, closing your eyes to consume the sensation unconsciously.

caleb watches as you make yourself home in his touch, blushing at the hazy look on your face. 'control, control, control,' he tells himself, not wanting to take you then and there right in that moment while you were vulnerable. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to.......leave you. it took longer than i expected to figure out the way to reach your world," he finally gives you the explanation you wanted.

"is that why you couldn't talk to me at all?" your voice carried a kind of distress that made it very evident that you suffered in his absence.

caleb nods, making you sigh. "and here i thought you no longer wanted me."

he slides his arm around your waist and pulls you closer towards him gently. his thumb drew circles on your side. his other arms reaches out to your face and his fingers brush your hair behind your ear. though you couldn't see him properly, except that he was pale as fuck and practically a glow stick in the dark, you could make out his smile.

"i've waited for so long to hold you like this," he whispers softly. he could only wish that you didn't hear the way his heart was hammering against his ribcage as you snuggled into him. "mhm, me too," you mumble as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you flinch when you hear caleb wince as your hand slides around the back of his waist. curious, you let your hand wander around that area once more and you don't ignore how his body tenses up. choosing to not comment on it since you just met for the first time, you let it be for now. but you weren't going to let it go until you receive an answer.

[sacrificiallane]

too sweet ۶ৎ  percy jackson smut

cw: heavy make out turned dry humping. (bodily fluids), drenched underwear, horny teens! percy being the sweetest boyfriend ever. allusion to giving head (it doesn’t really happen, though)

not proofread, oops

"i love you," kiss, "love you," kiss, "gods ―"

Percy Jackson speaks pretty nonsense when your plush lips trail further and further down his body. he swears this is his Elysium ― pushed into his sea themed sheets and getting utterly loved by you.

"so, so good to me, pretty girl." and you live by his constant praise.

only in his blue boxers he's literal putty under your teasing hands, as your mouth trails a path over each of his freckles, seemingly forming constellations with just your sweet mouth on him.

it's muscle memory when his hips lift off the bed, trying to get even more friction from how easily your making out had turned into... this.

your lips easily find the rough patch of his happy trail, and Percy stutters a little in his breathing. he is closing his eyes in anticipation, his fingers already finding space in your hair.... and then ―

― and then your mouth quickly moves back up, almost as if you're rushing to get back into familiar territory. it's the only indication he needs, to know that you're not just merely trying to tease him.

his sea green eyes slowly flutter open again, and Percy tries to find his thoughts somewhere that isn't tugged under his waistband.

his voice is all hazy when his eyes connect with yours again.

"you scared to go lower?"

and his question was so genuine ― you wanted to cry. he wasn't being pushy, and nothing in his tone suggested that he was disappointed or upset. no, your boyfriend was genuinely checking in with you, to see if you were okay with all this.

he then found your gaze turn a bit sheepish, almost... shy, as you slowly nodded your pretty head at him. "uhm, yea," he heard you whisper, and a flush overtook your features, "it's scary down there. i don't know what to do with... all that."

oh. oh….

Percy can't even stop himself from snorting a bit at your answer. leave it to his partner, to describe his most sensitive part as 'scary'. he finds it all too sweet, too!

of course, there was barely anything you could do 'wrong' with it, in his mind, anyway. but Percy is the last person to push you into something you aren't completely comfortable with.

the guy would happily just let you kiss him silly, if that's all you're comfy with!

"sweetheart," his gaze softens at your admission, and his thumb softly brushes over your cheek, just to see you look less worried about his reaction. "that's totally fine," he hums, and watches you closely, "we can try some other time. or we can never try again. whatever you'd like. i'm happy when you’re happy, honestly."

but it's the way you tell him that you totally don't want to stop this completely! you have urges too, after all. so Percy finds himself greedily licking into your mouth, until further thoughts just melt away. he's quick to flip the both of you over, hovering above you, all while making pretty little sounds of pleasure that mingle with your own.

his body molds perfectly against your own, and a roll of his hips is enough to leave you dumb. your lips are all shiny and swollen when he's done with devouring your face, and a lopsided smile splits over his lips that make your tummy flutter. he‘s on you before you can even take a moment to breathe, already thrusting ― gentle, slow ― against your clothed most sensitive part.

you‘re so overwhelmed by his sheer gentleness, that your own hips desperately buckle against his! and Percy can only watch in awe as your legs open wider for him, as to beckon him even closer.

he doesn’t need you to suck his dick! no, Percy prefers you just like this… sprawled open and eager for him to take care of you.

your hand seeking out his own, is enough to have his own stomach flutter. he is quick to interlock his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress right beside your head and keeping them there...

and Percy is almost embarrassed at how much he is really leaking through his boxers. it creates a wet squelching patch right where his tip keeps rubbing into your clit, and the mere sight of such has him less embarrassed and even more eager to make you both feel good.

his eyes quickly find yours again, knowing that you need just a bit more coaxing to really find your peak like this. "it's okay pretty girl," the son of poseidon coos gently, closely watching your facial expression. he knows you're close.

you swallow thickly, not able to look anywhere else but him. his muscles move with his trusting, making you all dizzy with how much you love him! how good he makes you feel, too. "Perce―" your breath hitches when your walls flutter around nothing. you're so so close, yet not quite there yet...

"i know, i know." your little whine makes his hand tighten around your own, has his hips grind harder against your clothes pussy, because he is right there with you!

when his hand comes down to press and rub over the fabric of where your sweet clit is hidden underneath, is when you find yourself finally falling apart...

he is so boyfriend, im crying (inspo from a tiktok i watched)

[seoups]

want you back - m. fushiguro

you and megumi's relationship ended terribly. you'd spent the past few months trying to forget him- only to run into him at a party your best friend forced you to go to. cw: angst with a happy ending song: want you back by 5sos a/n: ik i just posted a megumi one but i love this man so here is yet another one

“NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I'M ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK.”

The first time Megumi saw you after the breakup was at a party. He hadn’t even noticed you until Itadori gasped loudly and pointed with no attempt to hide his shock.

You were standing across the room, talking to some guy, doing the same arm touch you did to him when you first met.

His stomach began to churn.

He couldn’t stand to see it. Couldn’t stand to see you moving on while he was still daydreaming about the memory of you. All he wanted to do was leave and try to forget you- something he’d attempted for the past month since you’d broken up.

“Let’s just go,” Megumi put down his drink. “No way,” Kugisaki insisted, crossing her arms. “You can’t let this breakup take over your life.”

That was when you spotted him too.

Your whole body froze, eyes locking with him across the crowded room. And suddenly, this party- this entire night- became your worst nightmare. Your best friend had insisted on you coming with her to this party and flirting with the guys to at least try and get yourself back out there.

You didn’t want to. This wasn’t something you typically did.

Megumi knew this. That’s why he was just as confused as you were.

Too frustrated and embarrassed by getting spotted by your ex-boyfriend, you spent the rest of the party on the couch and on your phone, pretending you weren’t hyperaware of his presence.

Megumi wouldn’t lie- he spent most of the night watching you. Ignoring every girl that tried to talk to him. Brusing off Kugisaki’s glares at him.

All he could think about was you.

The freckles on your back he’d spent time studying after the first time the two of you spent the night together.

The sound of your laugh that echoed through his brain anytime he dared to smile.

The way that you’d talk his ear off whenever you had the chance.

The way that you’d lean into him, desperate for his touch on hard days.

The way that your face would light up whenever he knocked on your door.

The way that you looked at him like he was the best thing in your life.

The roses on your shirt when you ended things with him.

The way your voice cracked as you told him, “This isn’t working.”

When the haze of the party became too much, you slipped out towards the balcony, craving some fresh air.

The air was cold and crisp, a nice contrast to the heat of the moving bodies at the party. You leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the cold metal as you thought about you and Megumi’s prior relationship.

But then the door slid open behind you. Before you even turned to look, you knew who it was.

Megumi stepped onto the balcony, his hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn’t sure if he should have even followed you. But he made the plunge.

“Needed air?” he walked up to the railing, standing beside you. You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Clearly not as much as you did.”

A thick silence settled between you. You turned your gaze back to the skyline. But you could feel him watching you- studying you the way he always had.

“You seem different,” he finally said. “You do too.” “I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while, then,” he exhaled through his nose, barely nodding.

You hummed in agreement, watching the city lights twinkle in front of you. The part noice still bled through the glass door behind you. But out here on the balcony, it was quieter. Less suffocating.

But Megumi’s presence filled the space beside you in a way that made it impossible to ignore him.

The two of you hadn’t been alone together since the breakup. You’d made sure of that. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t exist when you weren’t looking straight at him.

But now, you were. And the weight of everything that was unsaid at the end of your breakup pressed against your ribs as if your lungs were going to explode.

Megumi shifted, his elbows resting against the railing as he turned his head slightly, his eyes still stuck on you. It made your throat tighten.

“You were talking to that guy inside,” his voice remained even. You tensed, “Yeah.”

His fingers curled into his palms. The image haunted his brain. The way you laughed at something the guy said. The way you reached out, touching his arm like you used to do to him when you laughed too hard.

“Didn’t think that was your thing,” he said finally. You let out a breath, your grip tightening on the cold railing, “It’s not.”

He knew that. He knew you would never do casual. Whenever you let someone in, you did it with your whole heart.

His jaw clenched, “Then why were yo-“ “Because I thought it’d help,” you snapped, turning towards him with frustration thick in your voice. “Because everyone kept telling me to move on from you. Everyone kept telling me I should put myself back out there as if I wasn’t the one who-“

You stopped yourself, biting down hard on your lip to stop them from moving.

Megumi’s gaze sharpened, “Like you weren’t the one who what?”

You looked away from his eyes for a moment. Megumi let the silence linger, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could say out loud.

Then, barely above a whisper, you said, “Like I wasn’t the one who ran away from us.”

Megumi stiffened. There it was. The truth he’d been waiting to hear come out of your mouth for months.

He’d spent months trying to figure out why you’d left. Everything was going perfect. He couldn’t understand why you’d leave.

And now that he was standing right next to you, with the weight of your words settling between you two, all he could think about was the way you used to look at him. Now, all that remained in your eyes is a look of apology and regret.

His throat tightened, “And now?” You inhaled sharply, your breath shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you did. And so did he.

Megumi turned fully toward you, shrinking the space between you by just a few inches. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and to smell the faint traces of cologne left on his hoodie after tonight. Close enough that if you turned your head just a little more, you’d be back in the place you had missed so damn much.

“Then figure it out,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest.

Because he wasn’t over you. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he was. Not when you were standing right in front of him, looking like you might still want this too.

[spiderb00]

- FAM OUT #5

Sophia Laforteza x reader  fam/kids out masterlist

“on a quiet night, no one expected it, but something was wrong with Yoonchae. And now, you and Sophia will face it together” 

Genre – fluff, angst?        Warnings – no one knows who Evie is 

Now playing – Unstable, by Justin Bieber Ft. The Kid LAROI 

The moonlight coming through Yoonchae's window was the only thing that allowed her to see in the dark room, and even though it wasn't much, the maknae still didn't care. To tell the truth, Yoonchae wasn't even fully aware of where she really was. Was she at home? Was she at the Kats'? Was she at Yn and Sophia's? She had no idea. The pain and fever spoke louder than her thoughts.   

Getting out of bed with some difficulty, Yoonchae tried to walk to the bedroom door. Holding her stomach, the younger girl moaned in pain, stopping walking and leaning on the bedroom walls for a moment.  

“Mom...”   

It was the only thing that echoed off the walls of Yn's house, all the rooms extremely quiet except for the moans and complaints of pain coming from Yoonchae's room.   

“Mom, please...” Still without an answer, Yoonchae continued walking, opening the bedroom door and trying to walk down the dark hallway.   

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you were resting your back comfortably on the counter, drinking water. Thirst had caught you in your sleep, and as quiet as the whole house was, you could have sworn you saw someone muttering something. Deciding to see if everything was all right, you left the empty bottle on the counter, Scooby following you faithfully while Max stayed in bed with Sophia.  

Starting up the stairs, you heard another moan of pain, which sounded a lot like Yoonchae, and before you could even hurry, Max's bark echoed through the house, signaling that he had gotten up to investigate what was wrong, just like you.   

“Mom...”  

That was all you needed to hear to know it was Yoonchae's voice. Hurrying up the stairs, you found the girl at your bedroom door, slightly bent over as if in pain.   

“Yoonchae?” You said, coming close to the maknae, putting your hand on her shoulder.   

“Mom, please, my belly hurts.”   

Not even having time to think about what the girl had called you, you put your hand on Yoonchae's forehead, seeing how burning she was.   

“God, you're burning up with fever, Yoonchip.” As soon as you closed your mouth, the younger girl's body fell apart around you.   

“YOONCHAE!” 

Quickly taking the little girl into your arms, you opened the bedroom door, placing her in the empty space of the bed. Max and Scooby were barking, as if they knew exactly what was wrong in the room, and you quickly tried to wake Sophia without taking your eyes off Yoonchae.   

“Sophia!” You tried, shaking your girlfriend lightly, and trying to keep Yoonchae awake. “Come on baby! Yoonchae, don't close your eyes!”   

It was all too much, and you didn't want to panic. No, you had to stay calm.   

“Mom, please, my belly hurts a lot.” Yoonchae said, her voice hoarse, like you'd never heard it before.   

“I know baby, I'm waking Sophia up.” You said, trying to calm the girl down and trying to wake up the Filipina, who seemed to be very far from the real world in her sleep.   

“Sophia!” Calling out once more, you moved a little away from Yoonchae, walking over to your girlfriend's side of the bed and shaking her harder.   

“WAKE UP!” Stunned, Sophia woke up in a jump, seeing you standing next to her on the bed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, Sophia narrowed her eyes, the digital clock reading 02:34 in the morning.  

“Baby, we have a problem.”  

Returning to the side of the bed where Yoonchae was, you grabbed the younger girl's forehead again, begging the heavens that her temperature was more normal.   

“ Damn, she's still burning.” You said, putting pillows under Yoonchae's head and looking at Sophia. “Baby, Yoonchae's burning up with fever, I've been calling you for a while. We've got to get to the hospital,” you said, barely having time to breathe.   

Quickly getting out of bed, Sophia finally understood what was going on. She took Yoonchae in her arms and felt her temperature with her hands.  

“Mom, no hospital, please.” Yoonchae said to Sophia, making the older woman look questioningly in your direction, seeing you shrug and go into the closet to put on clothes other than pajamas.   

“Stay down, baby. I'll be back in a minute.” Sophia said, leaving Yoonchae lying down and walking hurriedly towards you.   

“She called me 'mom'.” Sophia said, as she entered the closet you shared, watching you take off your old hoodie and put on a more presentable sweater.   

“I know, she called me that too, I think she's delirious with fever.” You said, finishing putting on your sweater. “We have to get her to hospital as soon as possible, baby.”   

“I know. Can you take her to the car while I pack a bag with our stuff?” Sophia asked, putting on one of your sweaters and exchanging the shorts she was wearing for pants.   

“I'll wait for you outside.” You said, giving Sophia a kiss and heading towards where Yoonchae was.   

Carrying Yoonchae bridal style to the car, you gently placed the girl in the back seat of the car, trying to remember if she had eaten something wrong, or done anything that had left her in this state. You were stressed, you knew the girls were working hard for their comeback, but you didn't want to think of it as exhaustion, you didn't want to have to shout at anyone for overworking a seventeen-year-old girl.  

“Mom?!”   

“I'm here baby, it's okay. Sophia will be down in a few minutes.” You said, running your hands through Yoonchae's hair as you tried to get her to be quiet.   

“Are we really going to the hospital?” The younger girl asked, her eyes downcast, and if you could, you would transfer everything she was feeling to you.   

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but your fever is too high.” You saw a small tear run down Yoonchae's eye, and wiping it away, you kissed the maknae on the forehead. “Hey, don't cry, I'm here with you.”  

“Can I call Evie when I'm there?” Yoonchae asked, making you look confused. And before you could ask who 'Evie' is, Sophia was running to the car, telling you to drive. 

“Sophia is with her, I just wanted to let you guys know what's going on.” You said into the phone, Yoonchae's parents on the other side of the line. “The doctors have given her some medication, just enough to bring down her high fever and they're investigating where the stomach ache is coming from, but it looks like it's just something she ate.”   

Walking back and forth in the hospital hallway, you had your phone stuck to your right ear, Yoonchae's parents were calm on the other side of the line, a stark contrast to how you were a few minutes ago. Despite everything, their calmness made you start to calm down too, and thanks to the hospital, Yoonchae had stabilized and stopped “ delirious”.  

“I trust you and Sophia, Yn. Just keep sending me updates and if she doesn't get better we'll buy the first plane ticket to Los Angeles.” Yoonchae's mother said, hearing your tired sigh on the other end of the line.   

“I just... got scared. I try not to show it to Sophia, or to Yoonchae, but I was so scared.” You said, tears welling up in your eyes.   

“Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. I know, it's scary, but it just shows me how much you care about my daughter, and I wanted to say thank you, to you and Sophia. Thank you for taking such good care of my Yoonchae. You'll be great mothers one day.”   

A solitary tear fell from your eyes. Maybe life really was preparing you and Sophia for the future. Damn, you couldn't wait for the future.   

“Now go and get some rest, and don't forget to text me.”   

“I'll tell Yoonchae to call you when she gets better.” You said, starting to say goodbye to Mrs. Jeong.   

Hanging up the phone, you leaned back against the wall, your head falling back against the wall as you let out a big sigh. It was 4:23 AM and you had never driven so fast in your entire life. You were tired, sleepy, but you were so relieved, Yoonchae was safe, and you would do it all over again if you had to.   

Sitting in one of the chairs in the hallway, you waited. The doctor had said that it was best for only one person to go in with Yoonchae, and Sophia offered so quickly that you couldn't deny it. Just as your eyes were about to close, you heard the door in front of you open, and then close with a satisfying click.   

“Her fever has gone down considerably, and the pain is gone.” Sophia said, taking a seat next to you on the left. “She finally managed to sleep, so I came to see how you were.”  

Giving your girlfriend a slight smile, you grabbed her right hand, where the ring you gave her - when she was still at the Dream Academy - rested.   

“I've called her parents, and also the Kats, everything will be fine.” you said, leaving a kiss on Sophia's hand, on top of where the ring rested.   

“I know. When you're with me, everything works out. You give me strength, Yn.” Sophia said, lightly dragging the chair closer to you and resting her head on your shoulder. “I always manage to stay calm because you're always there to calm me down.”   

Looking at your hands together, you thought about how much you loved Sophia, and that you wouldn't trade her for anything in the world. You hated things like that happening, but when you had Sophia by your side, everything seemed to soften, and that despair disappeared, you simply became a thousand times stronger when you were with Sophia. And while she thought you were her strength, only you knew that your strength actually came from her. It was inevitable, you completed each other.   

“Do you want to see her?” Sophia asked, lifting her head from your shoulder before she fell asleep right there.   

Shaking your head, you both got up, going to the room Yoonchae was in. Opening the door, you both tried not to make a sound, but failed miserably when the door creaked open and woke the younger girl.   

“Sorry, baby. That was just the two of us trying to be discreet.” Sophia said, making Yoonchae laugh slightly.   

“Hey, are you feeling better?” You asked, coming close and smoothing Yoonchae's mussed hair.   

“Yeah, I don't know what that was about, but I hope I never have to go through that again.” The younger girl said, relaxing into your caresses on her head.  

“Yeah, you gave us quite a scare. Do you remember anything?” You asked.  

“I was very confused, but I know I called you both mom.” Yoonchae said, her cheeks immediately turning a shade of pink. “Sorry about that.”   

“Yoonchip, you don't have to apologize.” Sophia says, reaching over and taking the maknae's hand in hers.   

“It's just... I love you both very much, and you're always looking out for me. I just think I projected a bit...” Yoonchae said, putting her free hand on her face to cover her red cheeks.  

“We love you very much, Yoonchae.” You said, taking the hand that covered her face. “You'll always be our daughter.” You said, in a playful tone, making Sophia agree.  

“Thanks guys.” 

“All right, how about I see if there's anything for us to eat for breakfast, huh?” You said, moving away a little to go towards the bedroom door.   

“I'll be back soon, Fam.” You said, making a peace sign - which made Yoonchae laugh and Sophia sneer at you - before walking out the door.   

And for a minute, thoughts of a family took over your mind, maybe you should start planning your wedding to Sophia, maybe look at engagement rings, it doesn't matter if it's too soon, you wanted everything to be perfect.   

Taken by these thoughts and the whole situation, you forgot one important detail...  

Who the hell is Evie? 

Hi guys, how are you? I hope you're all well.

Evie is closer than you think!!!

I missed writing for Fam out so much, I wrote this chapter in two hours (I think). But I hope you all like it as much as I did.

Actually, the plot of this chapter came from one of my anons, <3 anon, here's the request, if you're interested in reading it.

<3 anon is a very frequent anon here on the blog and even helped me create Evie, so much love to this anon!

I feel like I've said too much, so I'll end here. I'm excited to write the next chapters, but for now I'm going to put off some other requests.

xoxo, spider.

[sai-int]

i loved those headcanons!! could i maybe request a full drabble of ddlg with simon? 👀

-🐇 (you know who i am)

i hope this is okay!!! simon calls you mama and i'm firm in that belief.

cw : 18+, f!bratty!reader, soft dom!simon, thigh humping, dirty talk, simon 'mama' riley

you've been testing him all day.

it started small—ignoring his texts a little longer than usual, rolling your eyes when he told you to be careful before you went out. Then came the attitude, the clipped responses, the way you huffed when he so much as looked at you too long.

he deciides that maybe he did something wrong—maybe you need some space. he changes his clothes, grabs hus headphones, and goes on a run for two hours. he wracks his mind, thinking of how he could've upset you or what he could've done wrong. truly, he can't figure it out—he just has to hope you'd be willing to talk when he came home.

you're not, and he could see it the second he walked through the door.

the way you're curled up on the couch, arms crossed, lips already pressed into a stubborn little pout. he doesn’t say anything at first, just watches, setting his things down, rolling the tension out of his shoulders.

you don’t look at him. don’t say hi like you normally do, don’t come over and press your face into his chest, wrapping yourself around him like you always do when he comes home.

he sighs.

“what’s this, then?”

you shrug, eyes fixed on the tv. “nothing.”

his head tilts, gaze narrowing slightly. “don’t look like nothin’. been brattin’ all day.”

you don’t answer, but your fingers twitch in your lap, betraying you.

simon hums, slow, thoughtful, toeing off his shoes before crossing the room. when he reaches the couch, he stands in front of you, blocking your view of the tv, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

“c’mon, mama. out with it."

you scowl, curling in on yourself.

“i said it’s nothing.”

and oh, you’re testing him now, aren’t you?

he exhales slow through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. it’s been a long fucking day, and the last thing he wants to deal with is this little attitude you’ve cooked up for no reason. but he knows you—knows that if you’re acting like this, there is a reason. it's his job to figure it out.

you shift when he stays quiet, gaze briefly flicking up to his before looking elsewhere. he’s still looking at you, gaze heavy, jaw set.

“got somethin’ y'wanna say t'me?”

you swallow, shifting again.

“no.”

he just looks down at you with crossed arms, saying nothing. he knows you'll crack and fess up because you can’t hold out against him forever—you never can—and after another long, unbearable pause, you finally cave.

“just…” you huff, cheeks burning as you look away. “just missed you a lot, is all.”

and there it is. his expression softens—just a little.

“missed me, eh?” his voice is lower now, smoother, the sharp edge fading into something warmer.

you nod, arms still wrapped around yourself. he exhales slow, then reaches down, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your face up.

“should’a just said tha’, lovie.”

your lower lip wobbles slightly, and he knows—knows you’ve been wound up too tight, knows you were waiting for him to give you some attention and put you back where you belong.

“c’mere.” he sits on the couch, legs spread wide as he pats his thigh.

you move instinctively, climbing into his lap, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as his arms wrap tight around you.

“there’s m’sweet girl.”

his big hands move slowly, tracing circles into the soft flesh of your thigh, creeping higher, higher. every brush of his fingers against your skin sends a pulse of heat through you, makes you shift in his lap, makes your breath hitch just a little higher in your throat.

he notices, of course.

“what’s wrong, mama?” he rasps in your ear, his voice is all low and teasing, laced with something thick and syrupy, something dangerous. “you’re squirming.”

you make a small, frustrated sound, pressing your face back into his neck, trying to hide—but simon isn’t having that.

his fingers curl around your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to look at him.

“ah-ah.” his lips just barely graze yours, his breath warm and steady while yours is anything but. “you’re a big girl, hmm? use y’words, tell daddy what y’want.”

your body reacts before your mind can catch up. your hands grip onto his hoodie, your thighs slotting between his, a whimper slipping past your lips as you grind your clothed cunt on his thigh.

“words.” his grip is firm, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh, stilling your movements, reminding you who’s in control. his other hand presses against your hip, holding you in place, a low hum vibrating in his chest as he watches you squirm.

your breath stutters, hips twitching beneath his hold. he’s so warm, so solid, the heat of his thigh burning through the thin fabric of your shorts, making your head spin.

“please,” you whisper, barely audible, but he hears it.

his fingers dig in harder.

“please what?”

you whimper, toes curling as his grip tightens, as he leans in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“y'were bein’ a brat all day, sweetheart. think y'can act up and then get what y'want without askin’ proper?”

your cheeks burn, frustration bubbling in your chest, making you pull at his hoodie, trying to move your hips against him, to chase the friction you need.

your breath comes out in a shaky exhale, your thighs trembling around his.

“please, daddy,” you breathe, voice thin, needy. “wanna feel you, wanna move, please.”

his reaction is instant.

his grip loosens just enough to let you move, to let you grind against him slow and sweet, the firm muscle of his thigh pressing just right against your aching core.

“there’s m'girl,” he murmurs, voice thick with approval, his lips finally brushing against yours—just a ghost of a kiss, just enough to make you whine, to make you chase after him.

his big paws guide your movements, controlling the pace, making sure you feel every little bit of friction, every slow, drawn out drag of fabric against your sopping cunt.

his hands slide up, gripping your waist, helping you move. he shifts beneath you, gripping your hips, dragging you to sit atop his clothed cock.

“fuck, love,” he mutters, his fingers pressing into your skin, voice dropping lower. “y’feel that?”

you do. he's so big and hard beneath you, the heat of him seeping through the fabric, the friction sending sparks through your veins. each little bump of your cunt makes his cock jump—he has to grit his teeth to stop himself from cumming so soon.

“hmm, bet that feels good, doesn't it baby?”

you nod, your breath shuddering as your nails grip onto his strong shoulders. he grins.

“s’cute how shy y’get, can feel y’drippin’ f’me right now.”

his hands slide up, under the hem of your top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs, right beneath your perked tits.

“all that attitude earlier, ‘n now look at you.”

his lips find your jaw, teeth scraping lightly, his hands guiding your hips to grind harder, faster against his cock.

“so fuckin’ sweet when y’where y’belong, huh?”

his voice is rough, hungry, his breath hot against your flushed skin, and when he rocks you down against him again, when you let out the softest little whimper, he groans.

“go on, sweetheart. take what y’need.”

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

part two (soon)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual activities (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2144

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[katsu2ji]

fool for you — m. fushiguro

a/n: i love writing megumi as a cheesy lovesick idiot fool because he IS a cheesy lovesick idiot fool. an oblivious one, at that.

megumi didn't even intend to make a joke. he was being completely serious, talking in that deadpan, monotone voice that everyone around him was all too familiar with. he was talking about gojo, of course—he'd done something stupid, yet again.

despite his intentions (or rather, lack thereof), you thought what he said was funny. he was surprised when he heard you laugh; it was a sound that made him turn his head to the source of the noise, his face a mixture of flustered and confused.

"what? what did i do?" he asked, his eyes wide. he looked over your facial features, committing them all to memory without him even consciously thinking about it. christ, you looked—

"no, it's nothing," you answered, smiling at the boy. "it's just the way you said that just now was funny. sorry, i hope you didn't think i was laughing at you."

he was silent for a few seconds before realizing you had spoken; he blinked, coming back to himself.

god, what was going on with him? he was fine two seconds ago, but now he couldn't even look you in the eye. his stomach was doing some odd thing; he felt like he was simultaneously going to throw up and some, strange, other feeling that he wasn't sure how to describe.

"oh—no, i didn't think you were laughing at me. i just..." he paused, looking for his train of thought, "i didn't think what i said was very funny but, um—"

he mentally cursed himself, feeling like an idiot. why the hell couldn't he speak? why couldn't he look at you?

this had been happening a lot recently—the stuttering over his words, being unable to make eye contact you at certain moments—and with the way it's making him act, he wasn't sure if this an avenue he wanted to keep going down.

he took a breath, feeling his cheeks get hot. he ignored the it as he finished his sentence, "i'm glad i was able to make you laugh, i guess?"

jesus, he probably looked like an moron.

later, as he closed his eyes for bed, he couldn't stop thinking about that exchange. never in his life had he felt like he'd made such a complete and utter fool of himself, but he couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much. and that bothered him even more.

he replayed your laugh in his head over and over, the sound turning over in his mind like a lullaby in a music box. he wasn't sure why the thought of your laughing, the look on your face as you did so, struck him as much as it did.

and that wasn't the first time that had happened when it came to you, either, he reminded himself; there had been other moments when you'd done something that stirred up mysterious feelings inside him, like that one time you grabbed his hand to pull him along somewhere, or when you had slumped over on the train and fallen asleep on his shoulder. his mind was spinning now, keeping him from sleep.

what was it about you? everytime you done something or said something that he had found particularly...endearing...he felt the same feelings that he felt today: the warming of his cheeks, his stomach feeling like it was doing somersaults, his words tripping over his tongue. what was happening? why was he acting so unlike himself? why was he acting so—

his eyes shot open as he pieced everything together.

"oh god," he whispered to himself in the dark, staring up at the ceiling wide eyed and awake. as it finally settled into him why he'd been acting like so stupid around you lately, so completely out of character, he threw his hand up over his face and took a deep, loud breath.

oh god, he thought, repeating himself. i'm fucked.

katsu2ji © 2025. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[midnight-mourning]

An Afternoon in the Garden

I have no explanation for this

ummm Sun got to be desperate yesterday so now it's Moon's turn, farwell

giving a slight content warning just because it's borderline suggestive, otherwise just normal kissing and such

Gardener! au Moon x reader

Word Count: 845

The afternoon sun beams down on you, providing a bit of warmth on the otherwise mild day. The birds chirp above you, and a slight breeze manages to slip over the garden wall to blow gently against the swing. You're about halfway through your book, and making little progress. 

You flip the page with one hand, it's more of a struggle than you'd like, but your other one is currently preoccupied. As is your lap, thus being forced to hold the book out in front of you for a less than pleasant reading experience. 

Moon hums to himself as he cradles your hand against his face, placing a kiss to your wrist every so often, only making the frown—and blush—on your face worsen further. His head is resting in your lap, the rest of his body draped over the remaining space of the swing, long legs hanging off the edge. He knows exactly what he's doing, based on the quiet snicker he lets out as you clear your throat.

When he shifts his grip to kiss further down your exposed arm is when you speak up. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Not at all. Pay me no mind, Sweet."

You grumble and continue to try and read, with little success.

Still, he acts as if nothing is the matter, continuing to nuzzle and kiss the length of your arm, grip firm, unrelenting, but not painful.

You glance down at him for a moment, and find he's looking up at you, knowing grin on his features. Without breaking eye contact, he plants another kiss to your wrist, snickering as this one causes you to shiver. 

Exactly, what he was doing.

You weren't going to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least. 

You look away, back to your book, settling back in to continue reading. Out of the corner of your eye you see him frown, annoyed. You keep your smirk to yourself. Served him right—

One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, caressing it. The softness of the touch makes you want to lean into it, especially as it slips to the back of your neck, cool fingers sliding up and carding through your hair, almost making you groan. Almost.

Your eyelids flutter open—you don't know when they closed—cheeks burning as you focus back into your novel. The fingers tighten momentarily and you realize you need to alter your tactic. 

With his focus on your hair, you're able to slip your hand free of his grip. Working fast, but oh so slow, you let your fingertips trail against the edge of his cheek. You know it works when he shivers against the touch. Bullseye.

You continue your touches, trailing downwards to trace patterns against the exposed area of his chest under his shirt. The hand in your hair tightens, trembling just a tinge before having to let go, falling back down to rest in his lap with the other. You huff to yourself, and dare to peek down at him for a moment. 

Moon's eyes are half-lidded, gaze unfocused, yet staring right at you. They hold a certain quality of awe in them that makes your heart jump for a moment. You become acutely aware of a low buzzing sound emitting from his chassis. 

Maybe it's the quiet desperation in his eyes at that moment, or the sudden bloom of heat in your chest, but you're compelled more than ever to give him what he wants. 

So you bend down to kiss him, Moon craning his neck up to meet you. It's soft, tender. In the beginning at least. 

Soon, he presses harder against your lips, hands coming up to hold you in place as he kisses you breathless. 

Once, twice, you lose count as he continues insistent assault on your lips. Not knowing what else to do, your hands cup his face, slipping back behind his faceplate accidentally and he leans into the touch, stifling a noise. 

After sometime, he's the one to finally break the two of you apart. His head falls back into your lap, steam rising from the gaps in his joints. You find yourself taking several deep breaths, and he lets out a quiet sigh. 

He takes your hands, and picks up your book, setting it into them with a gentle couple of pats. Then, he turns on his side, snuggling his faceplate into the fabric of your shirt and sighing again, a string of giggles following afterward. 

You blink, taking a moment to register what's just occurred, then shake your head. With a light scoff, you pick back up your book, but drop one hand down to the back of his head, fingers tracing patterns along the metal and in between the wires, not dissimilar to how he was playing with your hair just a bit ago. 

A low rumble starts to sound from him, akin to a purr as you continue to read your book well into the afternoon. 

Maybe letting him have his way every so often wasn't a terrible idea.

if you want someone to blame, blame @cozycitrus for causing this, that's all, back to my cave, scurries away

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful

[minicookiedemonx]

HEAT OF THE MOMENT

Hi my writer name is mini, I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger but lost interest. But I’m back with a bang! I hope somebody enjoys this. This is my first post to this community and I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read so far! I don’t know how to set mine up too look as cool as everyone else’s :p.

Edit credit @ myself

Summary: Fem reader POV; You cause a scene at a local bar causing Officer Gojo to escort you off the premises. The reader is alluring, seductive and teasing him with lust. Causing Officer Gojo to then lose his composure and disregard protocol.

Warnings; rough, jjksmut ,gojosatorusmut ,NFSW , outdoor sex, authority-kink, creampie, nofluff , gojosmut, gojoxfemreadersmut, hair pulling, fingering, breast sucking.

Word count; 2k

The bar was alive with chaos—laughter, shouting, the clinking of glasses—but none of it compared to the scene you were making at the center of it all. You weren't even sure how it had escalated this far, but the combination of spilled drinks, a bruised ego from the guy you'd argued with, and the bartender's exasperation had turned a fun night out into something more... memorable.

"Miss, you need to calm down," the bartender said, his patience clearly worn thin.

You rolled your eyes, leaning on the counter with a playful smirk. "I'm calm. Maybe you're the one who needs to relax. How about a drink? On the house, perhaps?"

Before the bartender could respond, the door to the bar swung open, and in strode Officer Gojo Satoru. His presence commanded attention instantly—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing an air of authority that clashed with the cocky smirk he wore so effortlessly. His uniform fit him a little too perfectly, and his white hair, pushed back in a carefree style, gleamed under the dim lights. He slid his shades down just enough to scan the room with those piercing blue eyes.

You froze for half a second, watching as he approached with a slow, deliberate stride. The murmurs in the bar quieted as he stopped in front of you, towering over you with an air of unshakable confidence.

"Miss. Y/N," he said, his voice calm but edged with annoyance. "I heard you've been causing some trouble."

You gave him your most innocent smile, tilting your head as you looked up at him. "Trouble? That doesn't sound like me. I'm just having a little fun."

His gaze was unamused, his smirk faint but sharp. "Yeah, well, your 'fun' just earned you a call to the police. So, either you come with me quietly, or we can make this a lot more complicated."

You couldn't resist pushing your luck. "Come on, Officer. You don't really want to arrest me, do you? You've got those gorgeous eyes, that perfect jawline—wouldn't you rather stay here and let me buy you a drink?"

The bartender audibly sighed, but Gojo didn't flinch. He leaned forward just slightly, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his voice dropping lower. "Flattery doesn't work on me, sweetheart. Try again."

"Oh, but you can't blame a girl for trying," you said, your grin widening as you let your eyes linger on him just a little too long. "What about a smile? Surely I can charm a smile out of you?"

Gojo's lips twitched, but he didn't budge. Instead, he grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, his grip unyielding as he straightened up. "That's enough. Let's go."

Your grin faltered for a moment as he pulled you away from the counter, his calm yet authoritative demeanor leaving no room for argument. Still, you couldn't help yourself. "You really know how to kill the mood, you know that?"

"You'll thank me later," he replied dryly, his voice laced with sarcasm as he led you through the crowd. His hand on your wrist was firm, but not harsh, and you couldn't help but admire the way he handled you with such practiced ease.

As you were escorted out of the bar, you glanced over your shoulder, tossing a playful smile his way. "So, Officer, do you do this for all the pretty girls, or am I just special?"

He rolled his eyes, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're definitely... something."

Once outside, he released your wrist but positioned himself squarely in front of you, his imposing figure blocking your escape. His shades were now perched on top of his head, those sharp blue eyes boring into yours.

"Listen," he said, his tone serious. "I'm going to give you one chance to walk away and go home. No more scenes, no more trouble."

You crossed your arms, tilting your head with a sly smile. "What if I don't want to go home? What if I want to stay out here... with you?"

His jaw tightened, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw his confidence waver. But then his smirk returned, more smug than before. "Y/N, I've got more patience than most, but you're really pushing it."

You stepped closer, just enough to challenge him. "Or maybe you like being pushed."

His expression hardened, his voice dropping low. "This isn't a game."

"Oh, but it could be," you whispered, your voice dripping with mischief.

"Alright, Y/N," he said, voice low and steady. "Here's the deal. You're going to calm down, and we're going to the station. No more games."

You smirked, leaning your back against the cold brick wall behind you. "Games? I think you're the one making this more serious than it has to be. I was just having fun, Officer."

He stepped closer, his broad shoulders cutting off the light and casting a shadow over you. "Fun? You think dragging me out here in the middle of my shift is fun?"

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a playful grin. "I didn't drag you anywhere. You came all on your own. Besides, maybe you like this more than you're willing to admit."

His blue eyes narrowed behind his shades, which now sat low on his nose. "I told you to stop pushing me."

You shrugged, unbothered. "And I told you I don't think you'll do anything about it."

That was all it took. Before you could blink, Gojo spun you around and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, pressing his body against your back with enough force to make your heart race but not enough to hurt. You could feel his member betray his non-intrested demeanor by rubbing into your ass. You could feel how deeply excited he was- even if he didn't want to admit it.

"I warned you," he said, his voice dangerously low, his breath hot against your ear. "But you just can't help yourself, can you?"

You met his gaze head-on, unflinching, your smirk still intact. "What can I say? I like seeing you lose control."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked like he might snap. But then he pulled back abruptly, releasing your wrists and stepping away as though the mere proximity was too much. He reached into his belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"You're under arrest," he said coldly, his voice hard and professional once more.

Your grin only widened as he spun you around, snapping the cuffs onto your wrists with practiced ease. "Aw, Officer, you didn't have to go to all this trouble just for me."

"Keep talking," he muttered, steering you toward his patrol car as he read you your rights.

He opened the back door and guided you inside, his touch firm but careful. As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, you couldn't help but notice the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly.

The drive to the station started in silence, the hum of the engine filling the air. But you couldn't resist.

"So, Officer Gojo," you began, your voice lilting with amusement, "is this how you spend all your nights? Arresting harmless bar patrons and pretending you're not ridiculously attractive?"

"Y/N," he warned, his eyes focused on the road, his voice tight.

"What?" you asked innocently. "I'm just making conversation. It's not my fault you've got this whole 'hot cop' thing going on. You must get this all the time."

He didn't answer, but you caught the way his jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the wheel tightened.

You leaned forward as far as the cuffs and seatbelt would allow. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're pretending to be all serious. I wonder what it would take to make you crack."

"Stop," he said through gritted teeth.

"Stop what?" you teased. "I'm just talking. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong. You wouldn't pull over just because I said you had nice eyes, would you?" Gojo ignored you and you sighed with annoyance. You weren't going to give up that easily.

"Honestly the way you pressed me against that wall back there...made me kind of hot. You know...down there?" I spread my legs open slowly, unsure if he could see me do so but regardless they opened wide.

Officer Gojo remained silent, determined to remain calm and collected.

"So hot that when I go home tonight, and I touch myself, I might just think about that to get me off," you paused for a second. "Do you like the thought of that? Me all alone in my bed, circling my clit while moaning your name," you rolled your head back onto the head rest and jokingly moaned his name, "Ohh Officer Gojo,  just saying your name makes me so wet."

That was the last straw. Without warning, Officer Gojo pulled the car to the side of the deserted road, the tires crunching against gravel as he shifted the car into park. He got out and made his way to the back door, opening it furiously, meeting your gaze with extreme frustration in his eyes.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and rough as he leaned closer towards you through the door. "I've been patient. I've been professional. But you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

You smiled, unbothered by his sudden intensity. "Maybe I just like getting under your skin. Seems like I'm pretty good at it."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before leaning closer, his face inches from yours. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're asking for?"

"Trouble?" you echoed, your voice soft and teasing. "Is that what you call this? Because I think you're the one who's in trouble, Officer."

His gaze flickered to your lips for just a moment before he closed his eyes, as if trying to collect himself. But when he opened them again, all the restraint was gone. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

"Then show me," you challenged, leaning forward just enough that your lips nearly brushed his.

Officer Gojo groaned, low and guttural, before finally giving in. His lips crashed against yours with a desperation that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body. The cuffs on your wrists pressed uncomfortably against the seat, but you didn't care. His hands were on you—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as though he couldn't get enough.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough and raw.

You smiled, still breathless. "Well, at least you'll die happy."

His lips collided with yours once again, meshing together with ease, you slipped your tounge in and his eagerly fought yours for dominance. One of his hand slide down from your face and under your shirt, onto your breast, gripping it tightly before pulling back and pinching your nipple.

You moaned into his mouth as he played with your breast, the excitement building inside you began to pool onto your panties. His lips remained locked onto yours as his hand travelled south before hiking up your mini skirt, revealing your black laced thong.

He pulled back to observe you, his face flushed as he panted. "You're going to get me in so much trouble," his fingers slide over your aching core, making sure to stop and focus on your hardened bud with a few quick circles.

You eagerly bucked your hips into his hands, whimpering for more. "Fuck you're so fucking wet," he groaned, using his fingers to push your panties to the side before running his fingers between your slits again as you oozed onto his fingers.

His thumb traced your clit, sending shivers throughout the your whole body as you felt the crisp air meet your wet core. Exposed and open, the only thing you were worried about is how soon you could get Officer Gojo to fuck you.

"You're such a fucking slut," Officer Gojo panted huskily, "willing to give up your pussy just to avoid jail time," he smirked dipping a finger into you, causing a loud gasp to escape your lips. He hummed at the sound, "But if you let me fuck you like the slut you are, it might work out for you." Officer Gojo stated with a smirk, locking eyes with you.

Your head rolled back with ecstasy as you felt his fingers curl in an upward motion behind your cervix. His fingers were so fucking long and they were hitting all the right spots. You were a gasping, moaning mess, you gazed down to Gojo to see his eyes locked onto your pussy.

Watching as his fingers moved in and out of you with an urgency that signaled he was having just as much fun as you were. He looked up at your gaze, locking eyes with you.

His gaze was no longer cold and harsh, but filled with desperation and lust. He added another finger before he starting pumping into your pussy effortlessly. The cuffs were digging into your wrist behind you, it stung but you could care less- it honestly made things hotter.

He observed you as he finger fucked you into oblivion, the way his fingers curled inside you had you craving for more. You wanted him-no needed him inside you. You turned your gaze down to his crotch and saw how tight the fabric around his dick had gotten.

The sight of him made you moan out desperately, "I want you inside me, I need you to fuck me," you said, panting inbetween words. He chuckled at the sounds of your desperation, "and...why should I do that" gojo stated with a low seductive tone, slowing the pace of his fingers.

"Because I'm your dirty little slut," you say with a smirk on your face, locking eyes with him as you pull his fingers out of you and latch your mouth around them, licking them clean.

Officer Gojo groaned at the sight and quickly grabbed you out the backseat and slammed you against the car. He pressed his chest to your back as he pinned your arms on top of your lower back.

His hips bucked into your ass, aggressively grinding his harden cock against your rear end. All this foreplay had riled Officer Gojo up to the point he felt as if his cock would burst from the seams if he didn't relieve himself soon. He kissed your neck as he pulled down your skirt and panties in one swift movement.

You heard his belt unbuckled and Officer Gojo undo his zipper rapidly. You went to turn around and greet his member but he roughly pushed you against the car. "You stay right there and look pretty while I fuck the shit out of you," he sternly stated, you nodded your head like a good girl.

He bent you over before spreading your legs, you felt him line his tip up with your aching core. He slapped it against your harden clit, causing you to hiss with desperation. You were so sensitive down there, however, you couldn't help but crave for more. He teasingly slide it between your slit, back and forth slowly before plunging deep into you.

You didn't get a chance to see his dick before it entered you but by the way it filled you up told you everything you needed to know. Officer Gojo moaned loudly as he entered you, taking his time with the first few strokes. Embracing the feeling of your tight, wet pussy griping all around his cock. It was almost too much for him to handle.

He began pounding into you with no mercy, the sound of skin clapping echoed as it blended with the sounds of the crisp breeze and eerily silence of the night. Officer Gojo was unfolding right in front of you, and you couldn't help but join him- fucking him had me  ecstatic.

"Fuck your pussy is so tight baby," Officer Gojo cooed as he gazed down, watching his dick slide in and out of you. He bit his lip in admiration, " and it looks so fucking good on my dick." He slapped your ass harshly while thrashing into you, you gasped at the sudden movement but quickly became the moaning slut gojo had turned you into.

He took a handful of your hair and pulled you back, finding ways to penetrate you in ways you have never imagined. You could hear Officer Gojo attempting to restrain himself from moaning loudly, whimpers left between his parted lips. The sounds drove you absolutely insane, you didn't take him for a whimper but you were loving every second of it.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this to you," gojo stated, slowing his flow and pumping at a slow rate. "If you weren't such a desperate, needy fucking slut, I could be home by now." You moaned quite my as he fucked you through his lecture.

"But instead you have me in the middle of nowhere, losing my mind over how fucking good your pussy feels," and just like that gojo went right back to pounding you with no mercy. He needed to feel every inch of you, better yet- he needed to fill every inch of you.

You don't know how but he found a way to fuck you faster, even rougher, at this point no noise could espace your lips as he had fucked you into another dimension and you could barely process how good his dick felt inside you. You felt a familiar knot building in your lower abdomen.

"If you keep fucking me like that, I'm going to cum," you said breathless. A light clicked in Officer Gojo, his cock twitched in response. "Go ahead baby, be a good slut and cum all over my dick as I fill your pussy up," he was also breathless, he voice slightly cracking.

He pounded roughly into you until your pussy grasp and pulsated on his cock, triggering for him to spill every drop of cum inside you. It felt good, it felt amazing cumming on top of him as he filled you up. You were convinved there was no better feeling than fucking officer gojo.

He stepped back and pulled himself out of you, tucking his member back into his underwear and redressing. You turn to look at him, your face covered with red and beads of sweat. A smirk lacing your lips,

"So officer Gojo, are you still going to arrest me?"

-

HOPE YALL ENJOYED! MORE TO COME!

[blubunz]

What about older Leon wanting to breed his hybrid because he needs to calm his bunny's heat 😤

Been wanting to write this too oml🤩🤩❓️❓️ like imagine you being so needy that you can't sit still, and it gets on Leon's nerves so he just pins you down and gives you what you want :D

Anyways I wrote a little something based on this um hope u enjoy :³

Tags: degradation, breeding, riding, slapping, oral (m receiving), hair...uh– ear pulling.

You've been bothering him lately, hugging him and attaching to his side at all times. You keep rubbing your head on his thighs as you kneel on the floor and him trying to watch his movies, and when he gets you up to his lap, you sniff his neck and keep humping on his thigh.

He eventually has enough and pins you down, Leon promises you he'd get you pills to calm your heat down, since it's so late as of the moment, but you can't stay still. You promised him you'd be good, but you have limits too.

"Enough, brat." Leon pins you down and peels your bottoms off, he gives your ass a hard smack, the sound echoed in the living room as he repeats the motion over and over, making you cry and sniffle, yet your cunt has never leaked so much, the pain brings you a twisted form of pleasure.

"Wanna be bred, hm, bunny?" He sneers, grabbing your wet cheeks and pinching them together to pucker your lips. "Wanna be stuffed full? Want me t' breed you?"

You whine and nod continously, hips humping up to his bulge straining against his pants.

"You've been a bad girl, though." He grabs a fistful of your ear, dragging you over to his lap. Leon's aware your ears aren't meant to be played with, but he couldn't care more, fumed by your behaviors.

"Maybe if you do good, I'll fuck that tight pussy of yours." Leon unzips his pants and his cock springs out, standing tall with the tip an angry red.

You little bundle of fluff called a tail just wags so excitedly as you pump his cock, pupils blown wide and hungry. Your juices make a wet spot on the couch where you kneel as you swallow his cock down your throat.

You moan, eyes roll up and and drools running down your chin as you clumsily slobbering all over his cock. Leon groans, grabbing your ears and bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

You cry out more as Leon tugs on your ears so roughly, even though, you relish in it, throat tightening as you try to swallow some of your saliva mixing with his cum.

"Fuck, fuck! That's it, bunny! God, look at you drooling like a whore. Is it good, baby? You miss eating this cock?" He moves his hips up to sync with your head movement, his head tilts back against the couch.

Leon fucks your throat until he stops and forces your head down, shooting white hot streaks of his seeds down your throat, and you eagerly gulp every drop. As Leon lets go, you keep slurping his cock, cleaning up every drop of cum, that's enough to make him hard once more.

Leon slaps your ass, making you jolt and let go. Leon grabs your cheeks and pulls into a rough a kiss, tilting your head to dive his tongue deeper down, tasting himself on your tongue.

He pulls you seated on his lap mid-kiss, positioning his tip against your dripping heat, feeling your juices down his shaft.

He thrusts up into you without warning, elicting a gasp from you. Your eyes filled with lusts tongue sticking out as amyour hips move on their own, bouncing on his cock in no time.

"Yeah, ride it, slut—fuck, pussy's eating me s' good..."

Leon groans, his cock fits in your pussy just right, not too tight or too loose — it's just perfect.

It's crazy how wild you're acting at the moment, Leon knows about heat, but he never seen it go this far, how you're bouncing as if you belong in a porn film, how your tits bounce along with your movements.

It's too much for Leon, he's not that young anymore, but it also feels good how his cock is twitching painfully inside you, hard and slick enough for you to use like a toy.

You're babbling nonsense, and Leon can't make out anything except for his name on your lips. He grunts out your name too, eyes squeezing shut before opening to reveal his crossed eyes, just as lost in pleasure like you.

His hands tighten on your thighs, digging into the plump, thick fat of meat while you bounce and hump. You moan higher and louder when he circles your clit and bites your nipple, sucking it like a newborn baby.

"Oh god, Leon!" You whine, your hands groping his own chest as the clapping sound of your ass slap against his thighs grows louder and louder.

Your ear and tail twitch, keep muttering and pleading for him to cum inside you, and fuck, Leon couldn't agree more to that idea, chasing that sensation of filling you up.

"Yeah? You want it, bunny? You want me to shoot my thick cum inside, huh? Huh?" He huffs out, biting your shoulder enough to break your skin. "Want me to give you baby bunnies, hm? Give ya not just one, but hundreds of them." He's eggxatrirating, you may be a bunny, but he's not, but he plants that thought inside your head, down to your pussy and you gets tighter, gritting your teeth while you rut against his cock.

"Yes! Yesss! Want it sooooo bad, Leon! Need your cum! Pleasepleasepleaseplease—" The way you beg him like this looks so fucking cute, and Leon groans, shooting deep inside you with his babies, filling you up in no time.

You cry out in pleasure and cum too, then lying limply on his cock as your body twitches in pleasure.

Leon turns you both around, bending your body by pinning your legs on either sides of your head, he hasn't taken his cock out yet, his cum still warm deep inside your pussy.

"I'm keeping my words, baby, gonna pump you until it leaks out in chunks." He whispers, and resuming his pace. The night is still young.

[authorsofghosts]

Liquid Sunshine | Wolverine x Reader

Summery: Logan takes you out on a quiet Valentine's Day date to a bar in town. Of course, him being Logan, he has to make it extra some how.

Themes: Already Established Relationship, Angst, mostly Fluff, Open Ending, Pet names (Darling, Sunshine, etc), Ambiguous Logan Height, Blood mention, Drinking (duh), Drug/Tobacco Mention/Use, Kissing, Logan is Logan, Suggestive undertones mentions of Violence, actual Violence, Reader is suggested to be a mutant/X-Man (no powers written).

Word Count: 1.4k

"Logan-"

"Can it. I'm not parking next to the bar, that's asking for trouble." He grumbles, getting out of his jeep. "Come on, Sunshine."

You step out, your shoes bury into the few centimeters of snow, slipping a little. Before you know it, you're in Logan's arms. He smirks slightly, looking at your with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

You laugh softly, embarrassed, "Shut up."

"Fallin fo' me already, dear?" He murmurs, pulling your closer and ruffling your hair. "No need, I already know ya love me."

"Don't test your luck. It's 33 degrees out and you're making me walk 15 minutes to a bar for what?"

"In case someone wants to do a Valentine's Day Massacre on lil ol' me, alright? Now shut up and get to walking." Logan growls, wrapping a possessive hand around your waist before pushing you forwards.

Despite how much you love the man, he can be a little bit of a hard ass. Even though you're lost in thoughts of wanting to slap him, his hand grabs at your hip, kneading the flesh softly. It pulls you out of your fantasy of putting him in his place for once, a soft blush on your cheeks.

He leans into you, whispering in your ear, "You look like a damn tomato, bub."

"Don't you fucking 'bub' me tonight." You mumble, snapping your attention to his smirk. The corners of his lips are flipped ever so slightly that if you hadn't been extremely close to him, you'd think he was scowling.

"I'll do whatever the fuck I feel like tonight. Especially if it has to do with ya." Logan says, his voice lowering into a soft, possessive tone. He presses his hooked nose into your neck, chuckling softly as you squirm at the sudden affectionate act.

He continues to push you forward, ignoring your protests of how close his is, enjoying how red your face and neck are getting, the heat at the tips of your ears. "So shy tonight, are we?"

"Quiet. I will call someone to pick me up." You say, the threat empty and he knows it. You would give anything to be spending time with the usually lonesome, gruff man that has a certain soft spot for you.

"Oh? Who's gonna getcha? Not Scott or Jean... not that Cajun either... I think yer stuck, little one." He pulls you closer, looking into your eyes as you both stop walking. "And I think you like that sound of that, don't ya?"

Your heart is racing, face warmer than ever. "Well-" You start, but before you can continue, he presses his lips to your mouth, the small hint of his smirk as he pours all his attention into trying to get you to open your mouth and let him in.

"Shut up and kiss me, sweetheart." Logan's gruff voice murmurs, pushing you back against a building ad he smirking, staring directly into your eyes before going back in for a more demanding, confident kiss.

If you weren't already dating this man, then you would have fallen head over heels for him. You allow him into your mouth, your tongue warring against his even though it was a losing battle.

"That's it. Gimme what I want, darlin'."

"Lo- stop, we're in public-"

"It's 11pm on Valentine's Day. If anyone's out at this time, they should expect to seeing two lovers like us kissing, baby."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Bar's not gonna let us in if we get messy, baby." You say make, in a teasing matter. This makes him stop, look at you, and mutter something under his breathe before pulling away.

"Alright, you got me there." He chuckles, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. "Whatcha say you promise me something later tonight for cutting me off so soon?"

"Oh, you know I'm already planning something, Logan."

"'Att's my Sunshine."

You get to the bar, and almost as if he's forgotten his manners, his hands are wrapping around your waist and placing you on his lap as he sips from his glass. You're back is pressed against his chest and his chin is nestled comfortably between your neck and shoulder.

You can smell his last cigar, a faint tightness in your chest as you realize you haven't seen him smoke one since you got in the car. It's actually become a pattern lately. "Lo?"

"Yeah, sweetie?" He asks in a whisper, pulling you closer.

"You stopped smoking around me, huh?"

"Uh huh..." He grumbles, brows knitting together as he realizes you noticed. His Adam's apple bobs against your back as he swallows.

"Why?"

"Well, uh... I don't know. Maybe it's cause I uh..." He chokes on his words for a moment, something that usually happens when he's about to get emotional, or he's thinking too much. You turn slightly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. "Hmm?" You prompt.

"It's cause I can't smell you when I do, alright?" He mumbles into your shoulder blade, hiding his face slightly. "Now quiet b'fore I push you off and go outside ta smoke.'

"You wouldn't dare."

"Ya think?"

You don't say anything else, the tone in his voice teasing but with an underlining seriousness that makes the playful threat seem genuine. You laugh softly, shaking you head as you lean forward for your drink

As you do, however, you feel his arm around your waist tighten, holding you in place. "What's wrong?"

"Might have trouble, dearie." He grumbles, glaring at a spot you can't see.

"What kind of trouble?"

"The kind that makes me grit my teeth." He growls out slightly, clearly sensing something.

You stand up and look in the direction he was, a group of men staring at you two. You quickly turn your attention back to Logan and shake your head. "They're just jealous, hun."

"From the way they're talking about you, it seems so." He holds your hand tightly, watching you closely as you sit down in the bar stool next to him. He leans forward, placing a kiss to your temple before standing up.

"Logan, don't-"

"Someone's gotta teach those creeps a lesson, Sunshine. Ain't gonna be you." You runs a hand across your cheek before turning to the group.

You watch, sipping your drink slowly as you watch your man, your man, go to do something seemingly for you, but everyone who knows him knows it's for himself. You can't hear what they're saying to each other, but you can get the jist as you see Logan's back muscles tease, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he tries to hold back his claws from extending from between his knuckles.

One of the men look past him to you, smirking as he licks his lips. "Come on, you can do better than some old man like this." He yells out at you, your eyes widening. Before you know it, that guy is knocked out on the floor, blood pooling under his head from his mouth.

"Logan, no!" You say, quickly standing up, but something stops you from walking forward. He looks back at you, a smirk on his lips. He's having fun, and honestly? He couldn't be more hot sticking up for you and the both of your relationship.

"Don't worry, Sunshine, he's not too hurt." He chuckles, wiping his fist off with a napkin before turning to the rest of the men. "Anyone else got a probably with me and my darlin' date over there? Cause I think my fist want's another round."

And then all hell broke loose. Of course it would, you're dating The Wolverine, after all. Hot headed, overly confident, and a living weapon. If his emotions weren't gonna blow over at the bar, then they would have in bed tonight. And, I mean, what's more romantic than a bar fight?

Logan walks you back to the jeep before the police arrive, opening the passenger side door for you. His jacket is wrapped over your shoulders, and he makes sure you can get into without slipping. He presses a gentle, caring kiss to your temple, lingering in the spot just long enough for your scent to get stuck in his nostrils.

He gets in the car, smiling softly as he looks over at you.

"So... about what you said earlier about having a plan for tonight?"

"Oh, you have no idea what that little stunt made me think."