#low rain answers

[eightmakesonebraincell]

I SWEAR TO GOD LOW RAIN (whoever made this i sincerely thank you) YEAH SO ISTG I DECIDED ON READING PIRATE SERIES FIRST

But- but STOP

STOP

I CANNOT NOT READ THE MAFIA OKAY

I mean yeas long ass rb is coming your way and you can do nothing to stop it (totally ripped off that one incorrect quote)

BUT I JUST WANNA SAY LOOK IK I M STRAIGHT N ALL BUT HONGJOONG NEEDS TO PART WITH HIS LADY I NEED HERRRR LIKE YES ‼️‼️‼️‼️

can anyone resist mafia au's let's be real 🤩☝️ but also joong's??

MINIONS...TONIGHT...WE STEAL HONGJOONG'S GIRL ✊✊✊

[rainisawriter]

I saw your requests are open and I have a request for murayama🐥 If Murayama's girlfriend prefers her love language to him by writing poetry for him and giving small gifts (like a simple drawing,painted stone,necklace and etc.) A girlfriend who is a little afraid of contact in a relationship What would he be like in this relationship? What would he think of this love language Headcanon or oneshot is not important to me, can you write something about it＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 2,461

A/N: Let me just say that this is the best banner I’ve made in a while lol I really like it. Also, I realized halfway through this request that you wanted them to be dating already but I was in too deep to fix it T_T)/ I hope you don’t mind and I hope you still enjoy this~

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The first time you met Murayama Yoshiki, you knew that he would become an important person in your life. Maybe you didn’t realize that he would become the love of your life, but you knew he would be important. There was just something about him that drew you in, like a fish unable to escape a whirlpool. Though, part of you wasn’t so sure you wanted to escape.

In the beginning, you weren’t sure how to get his attention but you knew you wanted it. You couldn’t just come out and say that you thought he was cute, so you did what you do best – you wrote him a poem and made him a bracelet to go along with it. Neither were anything fancy, but they had come from your heart and you hoped he would be able to sense that.

You couldn’t just waltz up to him and give it to him, though. He was the leader of Oya Koukou, always surrounded by guys who would lay their lives down for him. You didn’t feel quite so comfortable stepping into Oya, either, so you took a less direct route.

“Can you please give this to Murayama-san?” you smiled brightly, holding out the small box containing the two items, along with some cookies you had bought from the store. It was secured with a blue ribbon so the contents wouldn’t spill out.

Furuya and Seki exchanged a look, clearly unsure of how to feel about this situation. No one had ever been brave enough to come up to them unless they were looking for a fight and you were looking at them without fear. Rather, you were looking at them with kindness which caught them off guard. Oya students were never looked upon with kindness.

“Um…” Furuya cleared his throat, glancing at his friend before slowly taking the box from your hand. “Sure…”

“Thank you very much!” You smiled brightly, bowing to them before turning and rushing away.

The two men watched you blankly until you turned the corner.

“What if it’s a bomb?” questioned Seki, taking a step back.

Furuya scoffed, smacking him atop his bald head. “Don’t be an idiot.”

When Furuya finally presented the box to Murayama, the younger male wasn’t entirely sure how to feel. He assumed it was just a challenge letter or another glitter bomb. The latter made him pause in opening it, dark eyes shifting to the couch he sat upon. He was still finding glitter stuck to the fabric after the last one he had received and that was over two months ago.

With a scowl, he decided to head outside in order to open it, not wanting to have to clean up the mess again if it really was a glitter bomb. Not that he had actually put in any work the last time – it was mostly Furuya and the lower ranking among the part-timers.

Safely outside, he tugged the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground. When he lifted the lid, he could only blink at the contents, clearly confused. He reached for the neatly folded paper first, convinced that it just had to be a challenge letter, but it wasn’t. 

He certainly wasn’t the brightest kid at Oya, so the poem left him scratching his head, though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t elicit a warm reaction from within him. The bracelet was made of brown rope with a baseball charm in the center, surrounded by two blue beads on either side of it. 

The bag of cookies was snatched from the box by a grinning Seki but they were quickly taken back by the younger male, a scowl on his lips. His dark eyes fell on Furuya. “Oi, where did you get this?”

The tall man shrugged a shoulder. “Someone asked me to give it to you.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t get their name…”

Murayama exhaled in annoyance, his eyes returning to the poem. He wasn’t sure why, but every time his gaze slid across the words, it awoke a fluttering feeling in his chest. Though the full meaning was lost on him, he could understand a part of it. Whoever had written this clearly felt strongly about him, he could feel it in every stroke of the pen.

“Find them,” muttered Murayama, making the two older men exchange a look of surprise.

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“There, it’s done!” you grinned brightly, setting the paint brush down onto the table. Your hands and apron were covered in various colored paints but you didn’t mind – it was part of the creative process, after all! Sitting before you was the completed canvas, the colors vibrant and warm.

“Woah, that looks amazing,” commented your best friend. “Who is he?”

“Murayama Yoshiki.” The name felt nice on your tongue and you smiled warmly, admiring his silhouette in front of the school he adored so much. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He better,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Any guy would be lucky to receive this as a gift.”

“Thank you,” you nodded proudly. “I think it’s my best work!”

“When are you going to -”

The doors of the art room were thrown open, causing both of you to whip around in surprise. Your friend looked terrified, her body tensing up as she slowly backed away.

You slowly stood up from the stool, blinking at Furuya and Seki. “What are you two doing here? How did you even find me?”

Your friend looked at you in shock, leaning toward you and hissing, “You know these two?!”

“Not personally, no,” you replied nonchalantly, shifting to the side so they wouldn’t see the painting.

Furuya stepped farther into the room, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. When was the last time he had been inside a classroom that wasn’t destroyed? Elementary school, perhaps? It felt strange to him.

“Murayama sent us to get you.”

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “W-What for?”

Your friend’s voice shook as she stepped toward you, fingers curling around your arm. “Y-You can’t just… just walk in here and kidnap people!”

“Hah?” His eyes narrowed at her, his tone enough to make her flinch.

“It’s okay,” you told her softly, offering her a reassuring smile and a pat on the hand. “They won’t hurt me.” ‘I hope,’ you found yourself thinking.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” scowled Furuya, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve been looking for you for hours and we’re hungry.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” you apologized. “Just one moment, okay?”

He watched you closely as you gathered your things and he didn’t miss how you hid the canvas from him, carefully wrapping it up with brown paper. You felt nervous as you followed the two large men from the school, hyper aware of the strange and terrified looks of your classmates. 

The worst your school ever saw was someone kicking the vending machine because their snack got stuck, so seeing these two obvious delinquents had everyone on edge, especially since you were following them. You kept your head high, though, smiling brightly to let everyone know you were okay. You hoped they wouldn’t sense your nervousness.

Arriving at Oya put you even more on edge because everyone was watching you, sizing you up to see if you were a fit challenge for them. You had no doubt in your mind that if Furuya and Seki hadn’t been with you, they wouldn’t have hesitated to attack you. As someone who couldn’t fight to save your life, you found yourself walking closer to Furuya for comfort.

The boys led you into the gym where Murayama was waiting, lying across the couch and tossing a ball into the air before catching it. Several groups of guys were scattered throughout the gym, all of whom looked at you with suspicion and confusion as you were led to the stage.

“We’re back!” announced Seki with a grin.

Murayama caught the ball, moving his head to the side. His eyes locked with yours and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You had seen him so many times before this, but it was always from a distance and never up close. Had he always been this pretty?

He slowly sat up, his feet pressing against the floor as he watched you. He lifted his hand, motioning for you to come closer but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from those dark pools.

Furuya gave your shoulder a gentle shove, knocking you from your daze.

You clutched the painting to your chest as you slowly stepped closer, gaze on the ground in front of you.

“Oi,” called Murayama, his tone softer than you had expected. “Why did you give me these?”

Glancing up, you saw him holding the poem you had written. The bracelet was secured around his wrist, bringing a bright grin to your lips. “You’re wearing it!”

He tilted his head to the side. “That’s usually what people do with bracelets, yeah?”

“Yes, I just… I thought you might have thrown it away,” you admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m really happy you kept it.”

Why was his heart picking up speed? He wasn’t sure, but it made him feel vulnerable and he didn’t like feeling that way. His eyes flickered to the brown package held protectively against your chest. “What’s that?”

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, grip tightening around the painting. Yes, you were quite proud of what you had created but… were you read to show it to him? Giving him the poem was easy because you weren’t there to see his reaction. If you showed him the painting now, you wouldn’t be able to avoid it if he didn’t like it. 

“It’s, um… it’s nothing! Just a school project,” you lied, laughing nervously.

Furuya scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s a painting.”

“You saw it?!” Your wide eyes snapped to him and he smirked.

Murayama’s eyes narrowed at the two of you, feeling jealous that Furuya knew what it was when you refused to show it to him. Clicking his tongue, he stood up and jumped down from the stage, closing the distance in just a few strides. He reached toward you without thinking and you winced, taking a step back.

His brow furrowed, hand falling back to his side. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No!” You replied quickly, shaking your head. “Sorry, I’m just not very good with being touched.”

“Oh.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip in thought. After a moment of silence, you slowly held out the painting. “I made this for you, Murayama-san. I hope you like it.”

His heart skipped a beat at how cute you are and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be receiving a gift from you. He took the package, careful not to touch your fingers as he did so. He tugged away the brown paper, dark eyes scanning the canvas.

You watched his expression carefully, but he remained stoic, causing you to bite your lip again. “You probably don’t like paintings, huh? I didn’t really think about it, I’m sorry.”

Though his face remained blank, there was a war zone going on inside of him. He was absolutely touched by the painting you had done of him. He was touched by the bracelet and the poem. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt happier, though he knew taking over Oya was a close second.

“I love it,” he breathed out, eyes shimmering with sincerity as he stepped closer to you.

A bright smile came to your lips and he was sure it had just brightened the room. “I’m so glad!”

“Why are you giving me these things?” Murayama was dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb. He had a good idea of the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted to be sure.

“Ah, well…” you rubbed the back of your head, cheeks warming. “I really like you, Murayama-san.”

“Yoshiki. Call me Yoshiki.”

You felt like you were going to burst with happiness. “Yoshiki-san, then.”

He adored the way his name sounded coming from you and he wanted to hear it again. His mind was racing as he tried to grasp onto the words he wanted to say. He just wanted to ask you out on a date, it couldn’t be that hard! Yet the words continued to escape him, much to his frustration.

“Yoshiki-san?”

“What?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Will you…”

His heart skipped a beat. Were you about to ask him out?

“…look at the painting tonight? In the dark, I mean.”

His heart dropped, a frown tugging at his lips. “Why?”

“Please?” You pressed your hands together, giving him a pleading look that he couldn’t being himself to say no to.

“Fine.”

“Thank you!” You glanced at your watch and clicked your tongue. “I have to go, but don’t forget, okay?”

Before he could utter a word, you turned on your heel and rushed away. Murayama’s frown deepened as he looked at the painting. What was so special about looking at it at night? It made no sense.

Then again, nothing about this situation made any sense to him.

That night, he waited for the sky to darken before he slipped away from the gym, painting in hand. He headed into an empty classroom, not turning on the light and nearly tripping over a desk lying on the floor. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, kicking it out of the way.

It was then that something caught his eye. Something was glowing a faint green in the darkness. He slowly lifted the painting, squinting at the words. Painted in the bottom corner with glow in the dark paint were the words, will you go out with me?

He scoffed in disbelief, the corners of his lips sliding upward. What a cheeky little thing you were! 

To him, you were strange. He didn’t understand poetry or painting or making bracelets. He didn’t understand why you liked him or how you had come to do so, but he admired the fact that you had approached Furuya and Seki without fear. 

You didn’t look at any of them with disgust or fear, just kindness. People were always quick to judge those at Oya, and rightfully so, but they were rarely ever given a chance. You were willing to give them one.

Murayama smiled as he leaned against the window sill, the cool night air ruffling his hair. He could definitely picture you as the queen of Oya, as his queen. 

“I hope you’re ready,” he hummed softly. “Tomorrow, I make you mine~”

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High&Low Masterlist

Request Rules

All my fanfics

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[minecraftbookshelf]

For the ask game:

Life

Fire

From a MoS one-shot WIP

The Ocean does have a few over-surface outposts, but the Towers notwithstanding, almost all of their life takes place beneath the waves. To be cut off from that-

From the early parts of the In The Hall of the Ocean Queen arc:

The early morning sun flickers over the surface of the waves made by the boat and the overall effect is mesmerizing. Like watching firelight through stained glass.

From a WIP titled "Traffic5" (I'll need to change that to Traffic6 now, I guess XD)

Pre-game meetings for the Life servers usually are more of an excuse to eat snacks and for Grian to taunt all of them by summarizing the rules in the least sensible and most confusing way before he gets bullied into putting it plainly.

And from the Avatar the Legend of Jimmy AU

Tango can feel Scar's eyes on him while he lights his finger and focuses on increasing the temperature of the candle-sized flame until the fire burns blue.

[the-boy-who-drank-the-stars]

i might actually die if they ever find these(and I'm not saying cry on purpose)

-your deer

bahhahahaha

she doesnt check my blog AT ALL so we're fine i think

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Which blog are u most likely to hav a crush on (except low rain)

Which blog u think most likely has a crush on u (except low rain)

-🦀

yo what sort of a question is this i spent a solid 10 mins drafting an answer bye

everyone i interact with i adore all of you you're all my tumblr crushes lmao

and look i may be a clown but im not clown enough to think about who has been crushing on me 😭 maybe ask low rain she'll know better LMAO

[nellectronic]

being forever anxious about literally everything will have you engaging in the most questionable behaviors

[sstrangeart]

🐜

hello there my name is Four Amber Droplets I’m a different group I would just like to ask do you have any experience in odd slugcats? I’ve been made aware by my overseers that a slugcat that contains void fluid is approaching my can.

doesn't look like he can help, sorry about that!

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[trianglegoddess]

I'm Still Standing

The League felt like they had a strong sense of Phantom’s power. After all, they wouldn’t have asked him to join the team, otherwise. He’s strong, he can fly, and due to his supernatural nature, he’s amazing on recon and stealth missions. He’s also incredibly reliable, and smarter than most people give him credit for. He’s a natural hero, a more snarky Captain Marvel, some news outlets have been saying. Always saving people with just the right words to say, with a humble smile on his face. 

Phantom, with all of his power, seemed untouchable in every definition of the word. 

And then they got invaded by Darkseid. 

It wasn’t the first time Darkseid had invaded Earth, but it was the first time bringing armies so large, the first time he’s attacked all over the world to spread the League thin. It is single handedly the worst alien invasion Earth has ever had. 

Batman, bleeding out on the sidewalk, Wonder Woman knocked unconscious and restrained by a nearly egregious amount of henchmen, Superman, weak from the kryptonite Darkseid had shot him with. Thankfully it had missed all the important bits, but with that bullet inside of him, Superman was also down for the count, as well as dozens of other League members. 

If it hadn’t been for Phantom, they would have lost. 

Phantom, who’s never been seen without a smile on his face until now. Phantom, who’s never had so much as a scratch on him, until now. Phantom, who has only ever been known to be kind and compassionate, even to his villains, until now. 

Usually there’s this sort of warm, comforting feeling that radiates from Phantom. It feels like a nice breeze on a warm summer’s day, a nice cup of hot cocoa, your favorite song. It’s a feeling of safety, as if everything will be alright just because he’s there. 

Here, though, something else, something much stronger, is radiating from him. It practically rolls off of him in huge waves, making those conscious around him more aggravated, more on edge.

Phantom pulls himself off of the ground. His suit is torn, and his green blood splattered on himself and the ground. He spits a glob of it out, along with a tooth. 

“Still, you stand,” Darkseid says, as if tired. “Do you not tire in the face of your own demise?”

“As long as I’m still standing, you won’t ever win,” Phantom says. His voice is low and threatening, reverberating eerily off of the broken infrastructure that surrounds them. It sends a chill down everybody’s spines, though if Darkseid is affected, he doesn’t show it. 

“Your comrades have fallen, your militaries have failed, and you have no other help arriving. Pray tell how one singular human will be able to take me down!” 

Phantom doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks forward so that his friends are behind him, and braces himself. Darkseid, unable to contain his own hubris, lets Phantom come closer. 

Phantom takes in a deep breath, as if he’s about to speak.  

Instead he wails. 

Any remaining glass shatters, raining down upon them as green sound waves push back the offending forces. 

And it’s loud, of course. The ears of Darkseid’s minions are bleeding, and many of them are either dying because it’s too much for them to bear, or they’re killing themselves to give themselves some modicum of relief. But it’s also more than that, more than noise. 

It’s mourning. 

The first feeling that overwhelms everyone is anger. Phantom’s anger at Darkseid, at the destruction, at the fact that he just can’t catch a fucking break and it’s not fair. The second, is the sadness. It weighs down upon their shoulders, suffocating them like smog. It invades every part of their being-their lungs, their joints, their very hearts-and it presses and presses and presses until there’s very nearly nothing left. 

Phantom still pushes on. He is nothing if not persistent, driven to fight, driven to protect his people, his team, his friends, his family. No mortal being could ever hope to have a lung capacity like this, but Phantom is no normal mortal, and Darkseid is finally starting to come to terms with that. 

The last wave of overwhelming emotion is more of an idea than it is an actual feeling. It’s not a threat, per se, but a promise. A promise to do everything in his power to destroy Darkseid and his forces permanently and with prejudice. A promise that no matter how hard Darkseid fights, he will not win. 

A promise that, if knocked down, Phantom will stand back up, and he will not lose. 

Eventually, after what feels like eternity, the wail dies down. There isn’t a single member of Darkseid’s army that’s still on their feet or in the air. Phantom collapses down to one knee, and bright, white rings flicker around his person for just a moment, before he wills them away and stands back up. 

It’s less walking towards Darkseid, and more stalking. They are not on equal footing. Phantom is the predator in every sense of the word, his anger and grief still radiating off of his body in ways that Darkseid is unable to comprehend. 

“Do you yield?” Phantom asks. His eyes are blazing green, burning into Darkseid’s very soul. It is a sort of animalistic, primal instinct deep within him that tells him, run, run as fast as you can. Darkseid’s hubris, however, remains unmatched. 

Even as he stares Death in the eye. 

“I do not,” Darkseid says. He tries to get to his feet, but his body won’t listen, still weighed down by the effects of Phantom’s wail. 

“Then as Phantom, King of the Dead, I hereby condemn you for the rest of your afterlife.”

“Don’t count your eggs yet, boy,” Darkseid spits. “I’m still alive.”

“No,” Phantom says, in a tone adjacent to someone who’s giving their condolences, “You’re not.”

Phantom gestures beside them, and Darkseid spares a glance and sees…Himself. 

His corpse is splayed on the ground, blood spurting out of his ears, nose, and eyes. He stares lifelessly up at the sky. The blood is still leaking down the sides of his face. 

“You’re dead now, Darkseid, and therefore under my jurisdiction. Due to your extensive list of crimes you will not receive a hearing, just your eternal damnation for the sins you’ve committed.”

Phantom waves his hand, and green chains and manacles appear on Darkseid’s wrists and ankles before he’s dusted out of existence, sent to his eternal punishment in another dimension. 

As soon as he’s gone, Phantom collapses to his knees. 

He’s not sure how long he’s there, sitting in the blood of those he’s killed, before Wonder Woman comes over. She’s covered in gashes and bruises and blood that isn’t hers, but she still stands tall and proud. A battle won is a reason for celebration, after all. 

He glances behind her, sees Superman taking Batman into his arms and flying off. 

Diana doesn’t ask him questions about how he’s feeling. A victory is a victory, sure, but not without its price. 

Instead, she holds out her hand. Danny grasps it, and allows her to help him to his feet. 

“As long as you can stand, you can win,” Diana says. “I think I’ll have to use that for my next big speech.”

“By all means,” Phantom tells her. “Just be sure to credit me.”

“Deal.”

[yooniivrse]

diet pepsi | jjk

summary. stuck in the rain, jungkook can’t resist the sweetness of your lollipop—or the taste of your lips.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationship au (kind of?), suggestive

word count: 1.4k

content/warnings: allusions to car s^x / kissing / making out

notes: inspired by this ask. ik i’ve only written for yoongi on here until now, but i thought that jk fit the request better. as always, asks, reblogs, likes, comments and feedback are so so appreciated! not my best work but i hope you enjoy my loves <3333

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main masterlist

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The rain had been falling for hours now, in waves so steady it felt like the whole world had dissolved into a haze of mist and water. Jungkook’s car was the only thing cutting through the fog, its headlights barely illuminating the slick pavement ahead.

The city lights blur in the distance, their neon colours muted by the downpour. Inside, it was warm, quiet, with only the soft hum of the engine and the patter of rain against the windows.

You sit in the passenger seat, the candy on your tongue melting into a slow, sugary sweetness. A lollipop, something you had absentmindedly grabbed from the convenience store before you hit the road. Now, you twirl it between your fingers, occasionally taking it back into your mouth, tasting the sweet tang as you watch the rain race down the window.

Jungkook, next to you, is focused on the road. His grip on the steering wheel is relaxed, the ink across the back of his hand disappearing into the shadows cast across his skin every so often.

His eyes flicker in your direction, catching the movement of the lollipop between your lips. Though the movement is subtle, you don't miss the way his jaw tenses, or how he shifts in his seat ever so slightly. His expression is cool, his face unreadable, but a small smirk teases a corner of your lips.

The soft glow from the dashboard casts shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Can I have a taste?” His voice is smooth, cutting through the low hum of the engine, playful but low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You glance over at him, brows raised slightly in surprise by the sudden request. You slide the lollipop out from between your lips, holding it out in front of him with a teasing tilt of your head.

His eyes flicker from the road to the candy, then back to you. “That’s not what I meant.”

Your pulse quickens at the subtle undertone in his voice. The suggestiveness lacing his words isn't lost on you, and something about the way the rain made everything outside feel distant and forgotten made the air inside the car feel thick, heavy with an unspoken tension. You plop the lollipop back in your mouth, swirling it around in a deliberately slow manner, before pulling it out again, this time letting your teeth drag lightly across it.

“Oh?” you murmur, turning your body toward him, leaning a little closer. “What did you mean, then?”

Jungkook shoots you a sidelong glance, his lips curving into a small, almost dangerous smile. He doesn’t answer right away, letting the question hang in the air between you, like the lingering fog outside the car. His fingers flexes against the steering wheel, and you watch the way his knuckles whiten as his grip tightens.

Outside, the rain begins to fall harder, each drop splashing against the windshield like tiny explosions. The wipers move faster, thundering from one side to the other, but it only made the scene beyond the glass more distorted, more dreamlike. The city lights turn into glowing streaks, the world outside reduced to a blur of motion and colour.

Inside, it feels as though time has slowed.

“You’re gonna make me crash if you keep that up,” he mutters, his voice thick with something deeper, rougher.

“Am I distracting you, Kook?” you asked, your voice light, but the challenge in it was unmistakable. You blink at him innocently, failing to hide the cocky smile that draws across your lips.

His hand tightens on the wheel for just a second, and you know you have him. His eyes are still locked on the road, but there's something in the way his breath quickens, the way his body shifts, that tells you he's paying more attention to you than he is to the endless stretch of highway in front of him.

Without saying anything, you lean back into your seat, drawing the lollipop slowly into your mouth again, the sticky sweetness spreading across your tongue. You can feel his eyes on you, a quick glance, before they flick back to the road. The air between you crackle with a tension that feels like it might snap at any moment, and you revel in it.

Minutes pass, the rain a constant backdrop, the car a world of its own. Every now and then, Jungkook would exhale sharply, and you’d catch him watching the way your lips moved around the lollipop, the way your mouth worked the candy with deliberate, languid motions. It's a game, one you know you're playing well, and you can feel him slipping.

And then, just as you're about to push him a little further, Jungkook’s hand moves from the steering wheel. He reaches over, his fingers brushing against your thigh, light at first, but firm enough that it sent a jolt of heat through you. His touch is warm, steady, and he gives your leg a gentle squeeze.

“I’m pulling over,” he says, his voice deeper, rougher now, no longer trying to hide the want simmering underneath.

Your heart skips a beat, a thrill running through you as you watch him steer the car toward the side of the road. The rain hasn’t let up, pouring harder now, but it doesn’t seem to matter. The world outside has already disappeared, fading into nothing more than a wet blur, leaving just the two of you.

Jungkook shifts the car into park, the engine still running, headlights casting faint beams through the thick curtain of rain. He leans back in his seat, exhaling slowly, before turning his head to look at you, his gaze dark, heavy with intention.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he says, his hand still resting on your thigh, his fingers now tracing lazy circles over your skin.

You smile, a small, knowing smile. “You know you love it.”

He doesn't deny your words, and simply watches you for a long moment, as if weighing what to do next. Then, slowly, his hand slides higher, his fingers brushing the hem of your denim skirt, teasing the skin beneath. The warmth of his touch sends a wave of heat coursing through your body, and suddenly the air inside the car feels too thick, too charged.

Jungkook moves his hand up from your thigh to cup your cheek, and you pull the lollipop out of your mouth just before he presses his lips to yours.

His touch is soft at first, the pressure he puts into the kiss feather light. When he pulls back, your eyes remain shut for a few more seconds. He moves his thumb across the apple of your cheek and your eyes flutter open.

In an instant, his lips return to yours with such force that you freeze for a second. He kisses you roughly, refusing to part from you as if you might cease to exist if he does. His mouth is sweet, his breath tinged with hints of mint, and a small sound escapes your throat when he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth.

Goosebumps rise across your skin as his kisses move along the curve of your jaw, his electric touch leaving you breathless.

You pull apart from him only when you're forced to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes dart across your parted lips.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover, his hands slipping back to your waist, pulling you closer again as if he can't stand the distance between you. His kisses trail down your neck, slow and deliberate, each one more intense than the last. His lips graze over the sensitive skin just below your ear, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips.

He pauses for a second as you stare at him with eyes clouded with desire.

"Fuck," he groans. "Get in the back seat, baby."

[eightmakesonebraincell]

Low rain do u perhaps hav a yt channel and u are hiding from us🤨🤨

if i'm being completely honest i actually do have one video on my channel and it has 199k views 😌☝️

[rainisawriter]

hihi! can i request for tsukasa (h&l) with a jealous reader, like tsukasa has been receiving gifts from girls, and reader gets insecure bc she couldn't give him a gift. but, one day, reader finally gives tsukasa a gift and tells him how she felt insecure and then tsukasa just hugs her and tells her that she doesn't need to give her gifts bc (author, you continue:) )

(sorry for my bad english😓)

A Gift for You (Tsukasa)

Word Count: 3,581

Genre: Angst, fluff

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I appreciate it! ^-^)/ Sorry it took me so long to get this out. I hope you enjoy it and, hopefully, it's what you were looking for~ Your English is fine, by the way, don't even worry~

━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Tsukasa. Despite being a delinquent, he was one of the prettiest, kindest boys you've ever met and you weren't the only one who felt that way. Girls were always fawning over him, staring shamelessly as he passed. Hell, even some guys couldn't help staring at him.

To your credit, it didn't bother you for a long time. It wasn't until the two of you were in your senior year of high school that it started to chip away at your confidence. The girls approaching him were so pretty, bringing him different gifts every time he headed to or from school. There was one in particular that seemed hell-bent on getting his attention and she just happened to be the most beautiful girl you've ever seen.

You often found yourself picturing them together and you hated how perfect they looked. In your mind, she would look a lot better hanging off his arm than you did. Besides, she was rich and could afford to bring him expensive gifts and baked goods. Your family didn't have a lot of money so you couldn't afford to buy him anything despite wanting to.

It was honestly frustrating.

Did she know that he was dating someone? You didn't want to bother him with something like this so you decided to take things into your own hands. You left school early one day, hoping to catch her before she could approach Tsukasa again. Maybe if you cleared things up and told her that he was taken, she would stop giving him gifts and waiting for him every day.

There she was, leaning against a wooden fence with her phone in her hand. A plastic bag hung from her arm and you could see the top of a red ribbon sticking out of the top - a present, no doubt. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before approaching her with a kind smile.

"Excuse me?"

She glanced up, sent you a disinterested look, and returned to her phone.

Despite finding this to be quite rude, you kept your tone friendly. "Are you waiting for Tsukasa-kun?"

Her eyes narrowed at you as she straightened her back. "Yeah, so what?"

"Well, I just thought you should know he's seeing someone."

"So?" she quirked a brow, hand on her hip. "If he's accepting my gifts, clearly he isn't happy with his girlfriend. I bet she can't even afford to buy him anything he deserves."

You visibly winced at the comment, feeling as if her words were arrows piercing your skin.

"Oh my god, it's you, isn't it?" She smirked, looking you up and down. "No wonder he's seeking attention in other girls."

"Tsu-kun is too nice to flat-out reject someone," you told her, doing your best not to let her words get to you.

She giggled loudly, bringing a manicured hand to her mouth. "Oh, honey, is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? I bet he's only with you because he feels sorry for you! You must know that, right? If you really care about him, you should let him go so he can be with someone who actually deserves him."

Before you could even reply, she turned on her heel and walked away, flipping her wavy hair over her shoulder. You swallowed hard, unable to move from where you stood. Was she right? Was Tsukasa only dating you because he felt sorry for you?

You felt as if you were at risk of losing him. After all, what kind of partner were you if you couldn't even give him a simple gift? Your fists clenched at your sides, determination burning in your eyes.

━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━

"Damn it, you won again!" Fujio groaned, tossing his cards onto the table. He and the rest of his faction were sitting on the roof of Oya High.

Jamuo grinned, wrapping his arms around the stack of snacks and pulling them closer. "Thank you, Fujio-san!"

"Tsukasa~" Fujio pouted at his best friend as if he could somehow fix the problem.

The blonde shrugged from his place on the couch, one arm slung over the back and the other resting over your shoulders. "I told you not to go all in."

His eyes fell on you next and you laughed.

"Tsu-kun did tell you. You should have listened."

"I want to go again!" he declared, eyes narrowed in determination. "All in, Jamuo!"

The shorter boy pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head, a grin on his lips. "I don't wanna!"

"Oh, come on! I'll definitely win this time!"

"I'm not taking that chance. These snacks are mine!"

Tsukasa shook his head as the two continued arguing, a smile tugging at his lips. Your eyes fell on him and you also smiled, feeling your heart skip a beat as it did every time you looked at him. The sun was beaming down on him, making it appear as if he were surrounded by a soft glow. It had been a few weeks since your confrontation with that girl, but her words often replayed inside your head.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you tugged it out, quickly turning off the alarm you had set. It was time for you to leave but it was always hard coming up with an excuse that your boyfriend would believe. He was frustratingly perceptive, usually able to pick up when he was being lied to. Not only that, but he was also quite protective over you and he didn't like you going around on your own.

You cleared your throat before standing up from the couch, offering your friends a smile. "I need to get going. I'll see you guys later."

"Bye," smiled Jamuo, offering you a small wave.

"Take care!" Fujio smiled at you before attempting to take one of the snacks, his hand being smacked by Jamuo. "So mean!"

Tsukasa stood up without hesitation. "I'll walk you home."

"No need," you replied quickly, smiling reassuringly at him when he furrowed his brow. "I'm meeting up with my cousin."

"I can still walk you there."

"It's okay, really. You need to stay here and keep Fujio from losing his mind over his loss," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Tsukasa observed you for a moment, lips pursed and brow furrowed as he tried to determine what was going on inside your mind. You've been acting strange for a couple of weeks now and he wasn't sure why. Every time he asked you about it, you told him that everything was fine. He knew it wasn't, but he couldn't force you to talk to him. All he could do was let you know that he was here for you and wait until you were ready to talk.

"Alright," he finally replied, cupping your face so he could bring you closer. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

"And if anything happens, you'll call me?"

"I will."

"Good." Tsukasa closed the distance, kissing you gently. "I love you."

Those three words were enough to steal the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling giddy.

I bet he's only with you because he feels sorry for you!

The words echoed in your head like a mantra, followed by her high-pitched laughter that sucked every ounce of happiness from you. Your smile faltered and you knew that he had noticed it. Before he could question it, you pulled away from him and hurried toward the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest.

'If he wasn't suspicious before, he has to be now!' You cursed under your breath. When you reached the courtyard, you could feel eyes on you and knew it was Tsukasa watching you. As badly as you wanted to turn and smile up at him, you resisted the urge and hurried away from the school.

After the interaction with that girl, you decided that you were going to get a job and save up to buy Tsukasa a gift that would blow all of hers out of the water. With his birthday right around the corner, you were determined to make it one he would never forget. In truth, you hadn't been lying to him because you were meeting your cousin - he was the one who got you the job and he also worked there with you.

You tugged open the door of the bakery, the smell of freshly baked brownies wafting across your nose. Your cousin, Taka, was wiping down the counter, smiling when he noticed you.

"Hey, you ready for the afternoon rush?"

"Not even a little bit," you chuckled, heading into the back so you could put your things away and grab an apron. After washing your hands, you returned to the front just as a crowd of people approached. For the most part, it went perfectly fine, excluding the fact that you didn't get more than a few seconds to breathe. The place was packed, people talking loudly as they waited for their order.

Your cousin nudged you, holding two lattes. "Can you take this to table five?"

"Sure." You carefully took the cups from him focusing on where you were going rather than who was sitting at said table. "Two lattes for Maki-san?"

"Oh my god, it's you."

You glanced up, instantly feeling your heart sink into your stomach. It was her, the girl that insisted on taking Tsukasa from you. She was there with her friend who was just as pretty as she was. Your jaw clenched as you carefully set the cups on the table. "Can I get you anything else?"

She snickered in amusement. "Let me guess, you got this job so you can afford to buy Kasa-kun a gift, right?"

Kasa-kun? Your brow furrowed. No way was she close enough to call him by a nickname.

"You could work here for the rest of your life and still never have enough to give him what I do. Oh and look, it's time for me to give him my gift again!" Maki stood up, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she picked up the bag containing his gift. She sent you a smirk before purposefully knocking over the drink, the lid popping off and the liquid inside spilling out onto the table. "You shouldn't be so clumsy!"

You sent her a deadpan look, well aware of everyone's attention now on you.

She shoulder-checked you as she walked by, her friend close behind.

"I hate her," you muttered under your breath, glaring at the spilled latte.

"Oi, what are you doing?" snapped your managed with a scowl. "Clean that up, now!"

You bowed to him in apology before rushing to clean up the mess she had made.

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You bit your lip as you walked around the jewelry store, scanning the items on display. Most of them were crazy expensive and way out of your price range, but they had a sale going on right now. You had been working hard and had saved up a bit of money, though you did give some of it to your parents to help pay the bills since they were struggling.

What should you get him? You weren't sure but you wanted it to be special, to be something meaningful that he could wear for a long time. Sure, you could just get him some flowers, a card, and something sweet to eat, but those things won't last. They also didn't feel very meaningful to you because of how common they were.

As you scanned the items within the glass case, your eyes landed on a bracelet sitting at the back. It was beautiful. It looked to be made of black pearls with silver crowns and blue pearls at each end. In the center was a silver lion head. It immediately made you think of Tsukasa because of the time Murayama-san had called him a sleeping lion. You thought the term was fitting because he was just as majestic and strong as one. Would he appreciate such a gift or be annoyed by it?

"It's a beautiful bracelet, isn't it?"

You looked up in surprise at the woman standing on the other side of the counter, a friendly smile on her lips. Her name tag read, 'Yuki.' "Yes, it's quite beautiful. Are those pearls?"

She shook her head. "No, they're made of black tourmaline. It's said that these stones work as a bodyguard to shield their wearer from harm, strengthening their immune system and helping them find relief from discomfort. It keeps your chakras balanced and helps to soak up negative energies."

Your eyes widened at her words. That sounds perfect for him, given how much danger he always puts himself in. "And the blue ones?"

"Blue agate. It's excellent for reducing anxiety, despair, and stress which also aids in the healing of one's body, mind, and spirit. As for the lion, it exudes charisma and courage. This bracelet is designed to help you channel your inner lion no matter what situation you find yourself in."

You bit your lip, unsure if you believed in what she was telling you. It sounded too good to be true and, in your experience, such things rarely turned out well. Did you really have anything to lose, though? If it didn't work as she described, it was still a beautiful piece of jewelry to adorn his wrist. And on the off chance it did work, it could really assist him with the life he's chosen to live.

"How much is it?"

"The normal price is fifty dollars, but it's currently on sale for forty."

If you bought the bracelet, you'd be dead broke which meant you wouldn't be able to treat him to dinner as you had planned. 'He can just have dinner with his family,' you decided. "I'd like to buy it, please!"

She smiled warmly at you, nodding her head before unlocking the case. "Would you like the box wrapped?"

You felt embarrassed telling her that you couldn't afford it but she seemed to sense your line of thought.

"It's no extra charge."

You almost exhaled in relief but managed to hold it back. "Yes, please!"

"Of course."

You watched her as she carefully wrapped the box in wrapping paper. She made it look so easy, doing so without tears or creases. It was pristinely wrapped, as if done by a machine rather than a human being, and she topped it off by wrapping a yellow ribbon around it.

"Thank you so much."

"I'm sure he'll love it," she told you with a smile, handing the gift over to you.

"I hope so," you replied, bowing to her politely before leaving the store.

As you approached Oya Koukou, you felt nerves dancing within you like butterflies. Would he like it? Had he seen Maki already and accepted her gift? Did she even know it was his birthday? A million questions filled your mind but you did your best to ignore them, focusing only on the task laid out before you.

When you finally reached Oya, however, you saw your boyfriend standing outside the gates and he wasn't alone. Maki stood in front of him with a gift in her hands - it was tall and rectangular in shape with a giant red bow on top. A frown tugged at your lips as your gaze fell to the small box in your own hands, no doubt much cheaper than whatever she had bought him.

You caught Maki's eye and she smirked at you, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Tsukasa's cheek. Your heart clenched painfully as you turned on your heel, quickly walking away from them. It felt stupid to feel this way, but you just felt as if you couldn't compete with her. You found yourself wondering if you were holding him back, preventing him from being in a relationship that he deserved.

Fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You didn't even have to look to know who it was, the scent of vanilla mixing with his cologne wafting across your nose. It was such a beautiful smell, one that you enjoyed deeply, but it couldn't calm your nerves at that moment.

"Hey," Tsukasa called out softly, his hand slipping down until it found its place against your own. "That wasn't what it looked like. She -"

"Really likes you," you interrupted just as softly, unable to face him. "She brings you gifts every day..."

"You knew about that?"

You nodded, lowering your head. "She's really pretty and she has money to spend on you."

"Just what are you trying to say?" his brow furrowed, hand tightening around your own.

"I'm just saying," you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. "That maybe she's a... better fit for you than I am."

"You're joking," he laughed but it lacked any sense of humor. "Is this why you've been so distant with me lately?"

"That's part of it..."

"Then what's the other part?"

You hesitated for a moment before slowly turning toward him and holding out the gift. "I've been working. Here, this is your birthday gift."

His lips parted, gaze flickering between you and the gift as he searched for the right words. "Did you... get a job to buy this?"

"It's not much. Not compared to hers." You muttered the last part under your breath. "Take it."

Instead of doing what you told him, he tugged on your hand, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around your body, one hand going to the back of your head. Your body tensed up at the sudden gesture, having not expected it, but you quickly melted in his warm embrace.

"You didn't have to do that," he told you softly. "And you definitely don't have to compete with Maki."

Your body tensed at the mention of her first name and he sensed it, increasing his hold on you in case you tried to pull away.

"She went to the same elementary school as us," he explained. "She had a massive crush on Fujio back then. She even called me ugly."

You scoffed at this, having seen pictures of him when he was a child thanks to his mom. "You were the cutest kid ever, what the hell?"

Tsukasa chuckled, finally pulling away. "Thank you, hun."

Warmth flooded you at the pet name and you cleared your throat, motioning toward the gift. "Are you gonna open it now?"

"So impatient," he hummed, carefully undoing the bow and handing it to you. He took his time with the paper as if he didn't want to tear it too badly. His brow went up when he saw the jewelry box. "Are you proposing to me?"

"Of course not!" you replied quickly, cheeks darkening at the thought of spending the rest of your life with him. "It's too big to be a ring box."

"Not if it's a big ring."

"Oh my god, Tsu-kun."

He laughed again, the sound pleasing to your ears. After what felt like ages, he finally pulled the lid off and carefully removed the bracelet from the box. He held it up, inspecting it carefully.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "I know it's not much, but -"

"I love it."

"Eh?"

He slid it onto his wrist, eyes shimmering with love as he repeated, "I love it. Thank you so much, hun."

"Really? You really mean it?" You searched his face for any sign that he was lying but you found none.

Instead of answering you, he closed the distance, his hand resting on the side of your neck as his lips claimed your own. Your fingers curled around his shirt, tugging him closer as you returned the kiss, hoping he could feel all of the love you felt for him.

He rested his forehead against your own, a bright smile on his face. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," you breathed out, unable to stop your own smile.

"And for the record," he explained, brushing your cheek with his thumb. "I didn't want to accept her gifts but Fujio talked me into it. Her dad owns a big bakery and she always brings me sweets from there."

"Sweets?" your brow furrowed. "Not jewelry or clothes?"

"No, just sweets." He frowned, pecking your lips again. "You were really worried about this, weren't you?"

"Not at first," you admitted, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. "It wasn't until I confronted her that I started to feel... I don't know, insecure, I guess."

"What did she say to you?" his eyes darkened. "If she hurt you -"

"Nothing," you replied quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry for being so weird lately."

"Don't apologize. Just promise me that you'll come to me next time. If there's a problem, we'll work on it together. Okay?"

You nodded, brushing the hair away from his forehead. "I promise."

"Good. I won't accept her gifts anymore."

"Are you sure? Fujio will be sad."

"He'll get over it. Now, come here." His lips found yours again, filled with so much love that it stole your breath away.

You realized how silly you had been to let her words affect you. Tsukasa was your boyfriend and he loved you dearly. He was determined to make sure you knew that and never questioned yourself again.

[wigglesforsquiggles]

WIGGLES!! How was your week :D♡?

ah u beat me again rain - i was surprised it was friday today (i legit have 0 sense of time anymore. i live in a vacuum of time and space.)

my week has been nice! i got back from spain on tuesday afternoon and have been chilling since. it took my until last night ((early this morning rly)) to finish unpacking lmao

uhh. nothing much else has happend. i have been v tired recentyl.. possibly linked to my declining sleep schedule (if im asleep bf 2am its a win).

i have been consuming a LOT of kpop recently tho.. like a lot a lot. zb1 my beloveds debuted on monday and their song 'in bloom' has be by the CHOKEHOLD. i keep singing it under my breath w out realising. thats my rec for u!!

ive been doing some f1 quizzes and such to pass the time- i can now successfully recite all the f1 world champions in order back to front and front to back :D this is the life i lead where this is smth im genuinly happy abt klfjgk

i hope ur week was good rain and i hope ur wekeend is even better !!

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby names

in which spencer comforts you after you wake from a good dream about becoming a mother

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader sort of wants to be a mom sort of doesn't, they discuss having a child in the future, talk of pregnancy stuff, I think that's it! a/n: another short sweet fluff piece that is by no means going to get me a pulitzer but is cute nonetheless!! love u!!! let me know if u enjoyed!!

Spencer wasn’t in the room when you fell asleep into an impromptu nap, induced by the pattering rain, the low light of your bedside lamp, the warmth of your favorite throw blanket—but he is when you wake up. Home from work, sprawled on the bed next to you, long legs crossed and as close as he thought he could get without disturbing your slumber. 

“You came home,” you whisper groggily, curling into his side and letting your sleepy eyes flutter shut again. 

He pulls you closer against him, rubbing your arm. “I always do.” A low, affectionate chuckle that buzzes from his chest and dizzies you. “You tired?”

You hum a distant affirmation. Visions of diaphanous pink, of sweet cooing, of a haloed Spencer doused in warm light and smiling down at a some blanket-bundled creature in his arms, still burn behind your eyelids, fading with every passing second. The gentle classical music you’d been playing earlier now blends with the sound of evening rain tapping ceaselessly against the window. Spencer is warm next to you, scent familiar and comforting and only contributing to your drowsiness—but a lingering sort of sadness still claws at your stomach. Emptiness. It bites like a shock of icy water. It’s just a small thing. You feel silly for being upset, but you are upset, and you want to tell him. 

“I had weird dreams.”

Spencer offers a hum of his own (perhaps a habit you’d picked up from him) and you open your eyes, watching him watch the rain. The stark angle of his jaw, the sweet slope of his nose. Any baby he had a hand in creating would be absolutely cherubic. “You know, Carl Jung said dreams are hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul.”

You fiddle with the knit of his sweater, and he covers your hand with his own, looking back down at you, deep eyes full of easy contentment. Like as long as you’re together, he can’t imagine a thing to be worried about. 

“Wait—the dreams are the door? Where does the door go?”

His brows pinch slightly as he recalls what is no doubt an exact quotation. 

“Uh—he said they led to a primeval cosmic night, that is soul long before there was conscious ego, and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach.”

You frown, sleepy head aching as you twist your brain into knots trying to decode the ornate language. “Was he the weird incest-y one?”

Spencer chuckles again. “Nope. That was Freud. Jung was essentially saying that there is something primal and instinctual about our dreams. He said they were our way of accessing the unconscious, which can process things the conscious psyche can’t, and our consciousness was a ship on the great sea of unconsciousness.”

“You’re losing me, Dr. Reid.”

The corner of his mouth flickers up. 

“He just meant they offered us an unbiased look at our lives. Our desires, our needs, unburdened by conscious ego.”

Our desires. Our needs. 

You chew your lip. 

“What does dreaming about having a baby mean?”

You say it because Spencer is your closest friend as well as your partner and you trust him completely with every thought in your head—but the way his hand pauses on your arm makes you nervous. 

He takes a moment to dissect your answer, digging for a hidden meaning like a precious gem, and then, once he decides there are no landmines, proceeds cautiously. 

“Well… some people say that a baby in your dream is a representation of you. It could indicate a desire to nurture, or a need to be nurtured.” Again you make a noise of vague acknowledgement. His hand starts back up again on your arm, and he delves gently deeper. “Why? Did you dream about having a baby?”

For a moment, you can only nod. Suddenly you’re choked up, releasing an exhaled, “Yeah,” as tears cloud your vision. He gives you a moment, just holding you as you try to find the words to continue. “It felt really real. I mean—I think I knew it wasn’t, but I was so happy that I didn’t care. I—she—” You laugh tearfully. “I’m being ridiculous, I know, I just… I miss her. Is that crazy?”

“That’s not crazy,” he says quietly. A stretch of silence follows, and the brief deluge of tears fades to trickling stop. Spencer is probably used to you enough so that he’s not surprised when you huff dramatically, trying to dispel your melancholia with a hefty dose of drama. 

“I wanna have a baby!”

Your boyfriend releases a surprised laugh as you bury your head against his chest, but it only takes him half a second to root his hand in your hair and hold you there. 

“Because of your dream?”

“Yes!” You sniffle into his sweater. “She was so perfect, ’nd sweet. I wanna have a baby so much.”

“With who?”

You look up at him tearfully and visibly frustrated. His eyes betray only fondness. “You, Spencer! Who else?”

“No one! No one else.”

You collapse again, satisfied with his answer. 

“You were such a good dad. It was—oh my god, you were so happy. You were holding her, and smiling at her, and—can we please have a baby?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, half chuckle, voice tinged with pity. His hand sweeps over and over your hair in a soothing pattern. 

You pout, hiding even further away against him. “That’s not an answer.”

“We can’t have a baby right this second, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

“Why not?”

He hums, pretending to consider the question, hand still carding gently through your locks, detangling. 

“You’re not pregnant, for one thing.”

“I might be.”

“I doubt it.”

“I could be.”

He angles your head up, smiling. Those warm brown eyes of his are full to the brim with sparkly affection. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“No, I’m saying, we could have a baby.”

The curve of his mouth lessens though doesn’t entirely dissipate, and the subtle lines next to his eyes soften as he regards you. There are a thousand reasons you shouldn’t have a baby right now, but Spencer knows you know that, and it’s still not what you want to hear right this second. 

“We could.”

He’s not being serious, but your heart flutters anyway. 

“Really?”

“Sure. Sounds like you have it all figured out.”

“Spencer. I’m not joking. You’re not taking me seriously.”

Spencer pulls you closer, and though you’re mildly annoyed, you allow it with a huff. 

“I am taking you seriously. Like the plague.”

“I know you want kids.”

“I do.”

“We can have kids.”

“Angel. We have time. I believe that you want a baby, and I’m overjoyed that you want one with me. And you know we’d need more time to talk about it.”

Of course, you probably will change your mind tomorrow, and again the next day, and Spencer will love you then and every time you change your mind thereafter. 

“Do you love me?” You ask softly, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand and not looking at him. Just to make sure. His eyes are liquid adoration on you. 

“More than anything in the whole world.” And maybe, you think, you’re okay with keeping it that way. For just a bit longer, at least. Spencer squeezes your arm. “I do think you’ll get to meet her again one day. I’ll get to meet her.”

You smile to yourself, imagining your little dreamy baby girl back in your arms. “One day.”

He kisses the top of your head. 

“Did we name her in your dream?”

“Elizabeth. But only because in my dream your mom’s name was Elizabeth, for some reason? I don’t… I can’t explain that.”

“Hm... I love my mom, but I don't know if I'd want to name my baby Diana. Feels too prophetic.”

“Hold on, I have like, a hundred baby name ideas. Can you hand me my phone? I’m gonna tell you all of them. First and middle name combinations.”

Spencer reaches for your phone on the side table. “Boy and girl?”

You scoff, settling into the crook of his arm, head on his shoulder, so he can see your phone screen. 

“We’re not having a boy, Spencer.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You smile and tangle your legs with his, searching through your notes app with your non-dominant hand for your list of ridiculous baby names. 

“I can’t believe you would even suggest that. You're obviously going to be a girl dad.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m so glad I'm not pregnant because you’re clearly not ready. You have a lot to learn. Okay, how does Artemisia Valencia October Reid sound to you?”

You’re lucky he loves you so much.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon. 

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role. 

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention. 

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps. 

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect. 

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious. 

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject. 

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words. 

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head. 

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.  

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined. 

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking. 

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.  

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right? 

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple. 

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered. 

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. 

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind. 

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body. 

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust. 

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect. 

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well. 

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high. 

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss. 

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response. 

A bath sounds nice.