#more thin tok

[grim-faux]

daily tiktok from our beloved Thin Man:

"C̴o̷m̵e̵ W̴i̴t̷h̵ M̴e̷ I̶n̷ T̸h̴e̸ D̶a̸y̸ I̷n̶ T̴h̷e̸ L̶i̷f̶e̴ O̵f̷ Y̷o̴u̸r̴ L̸o̷c̵a̷l̶ B̴r̴o̶a̶d̵c̵a̶s̶t̵e̸r̶.̸ ̷A̴f̵t̵e̵r̵ I̸ G̴e̴t̶ U̵p̷ I̶n̸ T̷h̶e̸ A̶f̴t̵e̴r̶n̵o̴o̸n̷, M̵y̴ F̶i̸r̸s̶t̷ O̸r̷d̶e̴r̴ O̶f̷ B̷u̴s̷i̷n̴e̴s̵s̴ I̶s̷ S̴i̷t̷ I̴n̴ F̸r̶o̴n̶t̸ O̵f̶ T̸h̵e̴ T̷V̶s̴ A̸n̷d̴ C̵h̷e̶c̸k̸ T̴h̶e̴ S̵i̶g̶n̵a̶l̷ V̵a̵r̸i̸a̴t̷i̸o̵n̸s̶.̵̸

̶A̸f̴t̶e̴r̶ T̷h̵a̸t̸ I̶ T̴e̴l̸e̷p̶o̴r̸t̸ T̸o̵ T̸h̷e̸ M̷a̶i̶n̶ D̴o̴o̶r̸ A̵n̷d̷ L̷e̷t̸ M̵o̶n̷o̴ O̵u̷t̴ S̴o̴ H̸e̷ C̴a̶n̴ I̵n̶f̶l̸i̵c̵t̶ M̴a̵y̶h̴e̵m̸ U̵p̵o̶n̵ T̶h̴e̸ C̵i̴t̴y̷ R̶e̵s̵i̶d̷e̶n̵t̴s̷. I̷f̴ I̷ D̸o̴ N̴o̶t̶, H̷e̷ B̴e̸g̸i̵n̶s̸ S̷c̷r̵e̴a̷m̴i̸n̴g̵ A̴n̵d̶ C̵h̸e̸w̷i̶n̷g̸ O̶n̴ T̸h̸e̷ C̴h̷a̷i̸r̴. A̵n̴d̷ M̴e̸.

̵I̸ K̴n̵o̸w̴ V̴i̷e̵w̴e̴r̶s̴ T̵h̸i̵n̴k̷ I̵ D̷o̷ N̵o̷t̷ L̸i̶k̸e̶ T̷h̷i̷s̸ B̵o̶y̵, B̶u̵t̶ I̷ C̷h̷e̵r̶i̶s̶h̷ H̸i̷m̴. E̵s̴p̴e̷c̶i̶a̷l̴l̸y̴ W̶h̵e̵n̵ H̷e̶G̵e̶t̴s̸ L̸o̷s̷t̵ F̵o̷r̷ H̶o̴u̷r̵s̸ O̴n̵ E̵n̸d̵.̴̶

̷O̴n̴c̵e̸ I̶ H̶a̵v̴e̴ A̴s̶s̴u̸r̴e̶d̶ M̸y̴ S̸a̷f̸e̶t̴y̶ I̸ C̶a̶n̸ S̶i̴t̴ I̷n̷ M̴y̵ R̶o̴o̷m̸ A̷n̴d̶ C̶r̸y̵.̴"

[shouyuus]

You write vulnerable Vi so well… (i’m thinking for example your first work about popstar!reader x vi) and I just saw some edits on tik tok and omg I have to beg you to write vulnerable Vi x reader. Like how she was during the scene in Arcane where she asked Caitlyn to promise her to not change. Looking at her lips, then eyes, then lips again 😭 Or how she leaned into her touch 😭 Or dropped her gunlets and hugged her 😭 We always see Vi comforting reader, can we see some Vi being comforted?

even the rain

violet; sfw, fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, no anon ur so rite vi deserves to be comforted lsdkfjosdi

there is no greater weakness than that of a warrior's heart -- blown glass and false starts. something war-torn and shrapnel-wrought, made of all the broken bits of want that, after a while in the slant-wise light, will start to look like love, no matter what they were to begin with.

it is not the first time you find her with her head tucked between her own knees, her hands laced over the back of her neck, tight as corset-strings, her pulse whale-bone brittle.

"vi?"

she jerks, head snapping up; her eyes are pale -- the parched blue of a sky before a rainstorm, all thunder and not enough light. the smile that breaks over her lips is the coarse imitation of what a real smile might be, a pantomimed thing, thin as ghost and just as haunting.

"oh... hey."

she drops her head back down with a sigh. you patter to her side, slipping in next to her on the wide bay window, glancing out towards far horizon, the clouds hanging low and bloated, thunderheads crackling with a distant rage, their edges ribbed in lightening.

"bad day?" you ask, gently hooking your chin over her shoulder, looping an arm around her waist. she barely moves, only shifts to lean into your touch, and for a second neither of you speak. the quiet gathers between you, swirling and thick, till vi lets out a long breath and turns, leaning to press her face into the crook of your neck.

"something like that," she murmurs, her words losing themselves to the exhale. she pulls you in, close and then closer, her arms wrapping around you so tight your lungs almost stutter. but you let yourself be held, and you hold her back as steadily as you can.

there are nights like these when she's quiet, the kind of quiet that used to set your teeth on edge. but you've gotten more used to them now -- and you've learned to understand the various kinds of quiet that come branded into violet's bones.

this one unspools like the oncoming dark, warm and liquid. you let it settle; you press a soft kiss into her hairline and feel her tremble.

"if you wanna talk about it..." you offer, letting the words trail off into the encroaching night.

vi gives her head a tiny shake, her face still buried in your neck, your body settled snug in her arms.

"okay," you say, reaching up to card your fingers through her hair, gently working out the tangles at the end. over and over again, you sink your fingers into her hair, and over and over again you pull them through. occasionally, you let your nails trail against her scalp, till eventually, you feel the lines of her shoulders relax, the tension seep from her arms as her hold on you loosens ever so slightly.

the first drops of rain patter against the slate-gray windowpane, and it's a long while before vi picks up her head with a tired little smile.

"it's just -- it's a stupid thought --" she says, already shaking her head. you crinkle your nose, a frown digging between your brows as you reach up to flick at her forehead.

"quit that," you say.

vi rolls her eyes, swatting at your hand, catching it in one of hers and bringing your palm to her lips to drop a kiss to the pad beneath your thumb. you smile, cupping her cheek, letting her lean into the solidness of your touch.

"i know, i know," she says with another world-weary sigh, but her eyes flicker back to the rain-slicked window and the misty world beyond. the sky is riddle with clouds and roiling with thunder. "sometimes it just seems... endless."

"what? the horrors?" you ask, allowing yourself a tiny grin.

vi laughs, the sound both ragged and honest. she turns lightening-struck eyes back onto you as she says --

"yeah, or just... the injustices. and... it feels like no matter what we do --"

"there'll always be more... bad things?" you finish.

vi nods, looking down at her hands. you reach for them, curling your fingers through hers. wordlessly, you tug her behind you towards the fireplace, where you settle her on the thick carpet with you across from her. slowly, methodically, you begin to unwrap her bandaged arms, running your thumb over the tensed muscles there, soothing over each knot you come across.

vi lets you, the only sounds leaving her the tiny little gasps when you hit a particularly tender spot, or the long, breathy exhales when you manage to sooth over some previously unknown hurt.

when all the bandages have been removed and you're finally satisfied with the status of her forearms, you push up to grab a basin of hot water, balancing it precariously on your hip as you set it back down on the carpet between you and motion for vi to soak her arms.

she does, letting out a soft groan as the hot water shushes over her skin, the heat sinking into her weary muscles.

"there's always gonna be bad things and bad people," you say, soaking a small towel in the hot water and running it up the length of her arms, gently scrubbing the sweat and dirt from her skin. you don't look up at her, but you can feel the weight of her eyes as surely as you can feel the heat of the water dissipating each time you dip the cloth back in.

"but... there will also always be people who fight those bad things," you continue, wringing out the towel and finally lifting your head to smile at her. you reach up with the corner of the towel to wipe at a spot on her cheek; she lets you, leaning forward, holding still.

"it's just how the world works, i'm afraid," you finish finally, shrugging as you lean back to assess your handiwork. vi lifts both her eyebrows, but there are firelights dancing in the bright of her eyes again, and neither of you have mentioned the rain.

"sounds terrible -- think i'd like a refund," vi says, chuckling.

thunder cracks outside the window; lightening pierces the sky, momentarily flooding the room in a sharp, flash-bang of light. it washes out the color of almost everything -- everything except the startling blue of violet's eyes.

and like this, she looks storm-touched, a natural disaster in the shape of a girl. a force of nature, caught in skin and bone, muscles and teeth.

"bit too late for that, i think." but you're grinning, and so is she. and it is so much more than the ghost of a smile now, so full and vivid, so defiantly alive.

you tip forward to kiss her; she leans forward to let you. your lips meet in the dancing shadows of the fire-lit room, and it's another few minutes before either of you speak again.

this time, vi breaks the swirling silence first.

"thanks."

"for what?"

vi watches her own reflection in the basin of now lukewarm water. she reaches down a finger and flicks at the surface, watching the image distort, the ripples pulsing out from the place she'd touched, further and further and further.

"for... always knowing what to say to make me feel better."

you let out a tiny laugh, inching around the basin to curl against her side. vi presses her cheek into the top of your head. between your bodies, your hands find each other and link, palm to palm.

"isn't that what girlfriends are for?"

vi nods, grinning to herself as she turns to pull you into her chest, dropping her head into your shoulder once more.

"yeah. guess so."

another streak of lightening eats across the darkened sky. outside, the rain sluices across the thick windowpanes, casting strange, ghostly shadows with each flash of light.

"c'mon," you say, tugging on her hand once more.

vi allows herself to be pulled up and towards the bedroom, casting one final look at the room behind her. the fire is banked, the embers simmering beneath the twilight gloom. but the living room is warm, and the sound of rain growing ever-soothing as the storm blows itself out.

she gives your hand in hers a squeeze, content to follow you down the narrow hallway that leads to your shared bedroom. content to be tugged into bed, where she curls in next to you, lets you wrap the both of you in the soft linen sheets. lets you kiss her till every breath in her lungs start to taste like good dreams.

"gnight, violet," you whisper, reaching out to brush away an errant strand of dark pink hair from her cheek.

she catches your hand and presses it to her face, murmuring against it --

"gnight, sweet girl... i... i love you."

you smile, leaning forward till your noses brush.

"i know, violet. i love you just as much... if not a little bit more."

vi lets out a noncommittal noise but she doesn't open her eyes.

"doubt it."

you giggle, "go to sleep."

"you too."

you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"yeah. i will."

[clawsdevour]

hop off for me

wc: 0.6k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, kenma x reader, slight smut, fingering, not proofread

ꪆৎ ˚⋅.

Rubbing your legs in bed under your warm sheets, scrolling on Tik Tok waiting for your boyfriend to put his eyes on you. Your boyfriend, Kenma Kozume also known as the famous streamer Kodzuken, was currently on one of his live streams playing some game he found interesting. Looking at the time at the top corner of your phone, it was just about time he started wrapping it up. 

However, you're needy and can’t bear waiting for him any longer as you kick the blanket off your legs, feeling the cool air brush against them. With your blanket off and one hand free, you try your best to take off your shorts and panties and throwing them on the floor. Your intimate area was exposed looking straight at him, but all he was doing was clicking his mouse and staring at the illuminating screen with his noise cancelling headphones on. 

Thinking to yourself because he’s already occupied, I’ll do it myself then.. You throw your phone off to the side as your hand reaches under your shirt and the other lowers down onto your bare pussy while you slowly spread your legs further out. You’re swirling around your clit with your two fingers, feeling the wetness spread all over. You’re out there facing Kenma’s side as you put on a free show trying to grab his attention as you whimper out his name. He’s still unable to hear you with his headphones on, listening to whatever sound effects his game makes him listen to.

You’re laying down on your back, legs wide open with your fingers in you. Gradually you’re thrusting them in at a pace that felt good as you teased and played with your perky nipple with your other hand. Your patience grows weary and thin, When is he gonna finish his stream to play with me instead? Was all you could concentrate on as you continued to pump in your two overworked digits. Started to feel exhausted, you pulled out your fingers and played with your clit instead for more stimulation. Kenma’s reading his viewer’s comments out loud, getting to hear his calm voice as you sped up your rubbing pace.

“One more game? Chat.. that’s overtime.” Kenma’s in his own little world until you poked his leg with your foot, trying to not get in frame. At first he ignored it, thinking you accidentally hit him. But you kept going at him, he’s continuously feels your prodding, to which he tilts his head to the side to see what you wanted. And oh, did he know now. His mouth is shaped into an Oh as he quickly whips his head back at his webcam.

“I’ll think that’ll be it for today’s stream, okay chat? Welp, Kodzuken out.” Kenma exclaims as he reaches to close his camera before ending his stream. His comments were going nuts the moments before his stream turned off trying to understand why he won’t follow with the usual ‘overtime’ streams he’s been doing lately. 

He’s hastily taking off his headphones and placing them onto his desk before swiveling his gaming chair to face you. He’s staring down at your bare cunt and fingers that lay on your soaked clit while you’re deeply breathing to recover back your regular pace.

“You couldn’t wait could you?” Kenma’s leaning in, putting his long slender fingers into you at a rough and quick pace causing you to let out a small yelp of pleasure ready for his next moves.

masterlist here

[gracieheartspedro]

More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans. 

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse. 

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable. 

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are. 

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath. 

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone. 

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying. 

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had. 

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous. 

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you. 

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks. 

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right. 

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that? 

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction. 

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her. 

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific. 

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers. 

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours. 

But she was your best friend. 

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words. 

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile. 

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing. 

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours. 

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago. 

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans. 

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted. 

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing. 

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep. 

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face. 

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you. 

It worked. 

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking. 

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near. 

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say. 

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again. 

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you. 

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you. 

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak. 

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck. 

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you. 

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock. 

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you. 

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants. 

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles. 

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered. 

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue. 

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop. 

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you. 

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs. 

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation. 

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch. 

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more. 

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. 

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks. 

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on. 

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud. 

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face. 

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel. 

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness. 

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips. 

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up. 

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is. 

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs. 

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up. 

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

[right4you]

Tie a bow around it

Summary: you notice Joel is getting big and strong 🎀✨🎀

Note: 1K Word count. Had this idea come up while watching a Tik tok. Watch it hehe https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Yjdnq4/

The hot summer air fans your face not helping at all to cool you down. The breeze picked up around 3 pm but Texas heat in July is not a Joke. The temperature today is at 103 Fahrenheit and it won't drop till 8 pm. Quietly groaning to yourself moving the umbrella to cover your body from the sun. The fan you set up beside you stopped working 10 minutes ago and you began to regret sitting out here while Joel works on your car.

Glancing away from your book for the one-hundredth time. You watch as Joel slides out from under your car. He stood up in the sun, tan skin glistening in sweat. He walks around the car to grab his towel patting his skin dry. He was gentle with it starting at his forehead down his face stopping at his neck where he was most sweaty.

Straight out of a movie, you thought.

He placed the dirty towel back on the cart grabbing a different tool (you wouldn't know the name of not even at gun point) You try to read your book starting all over again wanting to focus.

But you can't. Not when you have Joel fucking Miller a few feet away.

Alright, first sentence... the sound of him kneeling back on the ground, bones cracking, followed by a small groan escaping his pouty lips. You look his way again. He's shifted back down on the ground. Lying flat on his back, arms lifting above his head. His shirt lifts giving you a peak of his lower abdomen.

Fuck is he getting toner?

His once soft belly is looking more defined in this point of view. Has he been working out? You bit on your lower trying to remember the last time you saw him naked.The last few times you can recall have been at night not completely in the dark but in low light settings and you always keep your eyes closed because it can be too much to handle.

He comes out from under your car making eye contact with you and you immediately look away averting your attention to the words on the paper. Acting cool you twist the volume up on the radio next to you humming the tune of "Do You Want To Know A Secret" by the Beatles. You stare at the page not paying attention to any of the words you 'read'

"Are you ever going to turn the page?" He snorts mockingly knowing he caught you staring.

"Huh?" You instantly reply unsure by what he means.

"Huh." He mocks setting down whatever he held in his hands walking up to you. "You've been on the first page since I started" he picks up the book from your hands reading the title, examining it, then glancing at his watch. "I started at 2:30 baby, you should be on page 40 by now," he said knowingly at what speed you read.

"I've been distracted" you replied in a low voice looking up at him. He does look bigger and it's not because of the angle. No, he's grown muscle.

"By me?" He chuckles handing back your book and you look at his large hand.

"Yeah," you admit shamelessly. He shook his head with a smile turning away and making it back to your car and you watched, of course. His back is twice in size muscles forming under the thin T-shirt. "Joel?" You call him and he faces you with brows slightly raised.

"Yeah, baby?" He replies.

You turn the music down without looking "Are you getting buff?" You ask him furrowing your brows as you examine him from head to toe.

"Buff?" He questions with a confused expression. "I don't know what that means"

"It means muscular. I swear that shirt used to fit you loose" You both make eye contact again.

He pressed his lips together shrugging "Uhh I don't know, maybe. Been doing a lot of the heavy lifting at work. Probably that" he answers turning away to continue working on your car but you get an idea watching his arms flex.

You stand up from the lawn chair, and the book that was on your lap slams on the ground forgotten. You walk towards him "Look at me" you tell him and he turns to face you. "Do this" You curl your arm up creating a fist to squeeze the bicep muscle. He does as so but his is ten times larger. You watch in awe fingers coming up to touch his large thick muscle "damn when did you get so strong" you said lowly trying to come off as seductive.

He puffs out a chuckle through his nose, smiling down at you. "You're making me blush ma'am." He stops flexing. His hands come down to your waist pulling you flush against his hot wet body. "All that food you've been feeding me is making me big and strong" his face lowers to yours breath fanning your skin.

"So you should be thanking me then" you joke closing in the distance to lightly kiss his lips. The idea you had a few minutes ago pops into your head again pulling away. "Here put your arms back" You grab his hands from behind you placing them at his sides.

"Alright," he responds standing still watching you untie the pink ribbon that held your hair in a ponytail. Your hair comes undone falling gracefully down your back slightly heating the back of your neck and bare shoulders. You bring the pink material wrapping it around his tan-freckled forearm tying a tight bow. You giggled stepping back "What now?" He asks.

"Okay flex again, but as hard as you can," you say and his face contorts to a confused expression, nose scrunching and eyebrows knitting together. You roll your eyes "Just do it" you demand giving him a stern look.

He sighs but does as told. Arm curling up, fist facing his shoulder as he squeezes tight making a vein visible around the bicep. The bow undoes itself snapping in half from the tension. It fell to the ground and you couldn't help but blush but Joel was still confused.

“Ah I've been blessed" you squealed jumping up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders not needing to worry if you fell because he caught you.

His arms wrap around your waist holding you up against him. He kissed you back gently one hand coming down to your thigh picking it up helping you lift and both legs wrap around his waist. Your hands get lost in his curls your thighs tighten around his body.

"Inside" you mumbled in between kisses and he walked y'all back into the house.

Now the car is forgotten.

"Let me show you how blessed you are," he said huskily and you couldn't help but giggle with excitement.

[spidybaby]

Birthday Twin

Summary: Pablo and you share your birthday date, and you two plan a surprise for each other.

A/N: In honor to miss @gadriezmannsgirl and Pablo's birthday. I wanted to create this piece to celebrate them both. So miss girl, happy birthday to you 🎂💛

"Yes." You say to Aurora. "Yes, the cake, the balloons, the drinks, everything is done and organized."

"You are such a sweetheart." She hugs you. "I was looking for a little help, and I ended up only inviting the family." She laughs. "You did it all yourself."

You smile. You love helping people plan things. And this time wasn't different. Aurora asked you to help her with some details about Pablo's secret party.

And you took it upon yourself to plan everything. Order the cake and even pick the decorations.

His family was so happy because Pablo was growing up. Belen was a ball of feelings, trying her best not to cry every time she remembers that Pablo is growing up.

"I'll pick the cake, and you take Pablo out so we can decorate." She smiles. Hurrying you out of her room.

You nod, walking back to his room. He was watching something on tik tok while the movie you picked is on as some background noise.

"Amor, do you want to come with me to the mall?" You smile at him, your hands combing his brown locks. "Maybe we can go get some perritos calientes." You smile at him.

He nods, getting up from his bed. He grabs his wallet and keys. "Mamá, we'll be back in a few."

You hear Belen telling you two to he careful. You grab his hand, walking with him to the car. "I can't believe this is the last time I'll see you as a nineteen year old boy."

You pretend to cry, making him smile at you. He grabs you by the neck. He smashes his lips to yours. You whine at the feeling of him kissing you.

"Ouch, bebé." You laugh when you two separate. "You are so rough." You reapply your lip oil.

"I thought you liked it rough." He smirks.

You blush at his comment, acting as if you didn't hear it. You make sure your hair looks good.

You arrive at the mall. You don't even know where to start because you aren't sure about what you would be doing for the next hour.

"I need a new pair of headphones. My last ones got lost, or maybe Fermin has them."

"Why do your things always end up at Fermin's?"

"I always left them there, or in his car, or his girlfriend's car. I maybe need to stop doing that."

"Maybe, let's go." You pull him, he smiles at you.

He loves this side of you, how happy and excited you get when his birthday date gets closer and closer and closer.

He loves the fact that even when he's a footballer with all the attention and media, you give him your 100% of energy and attention, as if he doesn't get enough.

"Hey, I want to get something, maybe a cool bracelet." He says, noticing a jewelry store.

You greet the lady at the counter. Asking her to show you some bracelets. Pablo tries on a few, asking for your opinion.

You let him decide between two, giving him the liberty to do it. You check the rest of the things. Looking at some rings, they look beautiful but really expensive.

Pablo can't take his eyes off of you. He asked the lady to pack him the ring you went back to look and put it on the same bag as his bracelet.

"Pick a bracelet." He grabs your waist, kissing your shoulder. "Whatever you want, don't look at the tag." He whispers, kissing your ear.

You nod, letting him spoil you a little bit. You want to get something cute for your birthday too.

You pick a thin gold bracelet with his initial, you love wearing this kind of minimalistic things. You enjoy them because it's easier to wear.

"Let's go, preciosa." He grabs your hand, thanking the lady for the help. "You say things like, oh your last hours as a teenager, as if you are not turning 20 tomorrow too." He laughs.

"I mean, yes." You say, stopping eating your perrito caliente. "But I love watching you blush."

You and Pablo share more than just curiosities, you two share your birth date. And coincidentally, you also have the same age.

When you first got together, you didn't talk about birthdays. It was the forgotten topic. Not because of something wrong but because you two just forgot.

Then, when he invited you over to his place for dinner. You were welcomed with some of his family members, his long-time friends, and some football teammates.

> "It's your birthday today?" You asked, confused and blushed about not knowing it.

"Actually, it's the 5th." He smiles. "Mom just wanted to celebrate early."

"You have to be kidding me." You jump a little, excited about sharing your birthday with him. "That is my birthday, too." <

After that day, you two had another reason celebration in common. An anniversary and your birthday.

"We still need to finish our movie." You say, throwing the empty containers on the trash. "Let's go, mi pablito."

You two go back to his house, you see some of the cars from his family and friends but he was too busy on his phone and the road that he didn't even noticed.

Luckily, the garage was closed, so you couldn't hear the music they had on. Playlist you sent Aurora with music Pablo likes.

"Let me help you with the bags, Aurora texted me to ask you if you can help her with something." You say, pretending to see your phone.

He nods, confused about why his sister didn't text him. He walks inside, hearing some music and noticing his friends and family all around a cake.

He smiles like crazy, cheeks hurting from doing it. He hurries to hug his mom and dad. Thanking them and then Aurora for the party.

"Not us, her." Aurora points at you.

You grab hug his torso, kissing his shoulder. "Surprise!" You smile at him. "It was hard, but I managed to do it."

"Gracias, I thought you guys were busy with college." He says to his friends.

"Nah, we were just pretending because your girlfriend asked us."

"Yes, and we are here for the food and cake."

They all laugh, happy to be there with his friend. Pablo is thankful to you for the surprise, he can't even explain how happy this makes him.

"Let's all go outside and have some food and cake, Pablo has to go back to Barcelona in a few hours." Aurora pouts, sad that her baby brother and you are leaving so soon.

You guide Pablo to the garden, showing him the decorations and his cake. You order the cake with these two pictures of him playing for Barcelona.

One when he was a kid in La Masia and the other where he looks happy. Belen and Pablo Sir approved the cake. They loved it when you showed them the pictures.

Belen was happy you were there with them. She loved you like her own. Thankful because you take care of Pablo.

"Y/n, baby." Belen calls you. "Can you come with me for a moment."

You nod, leaving your food aside and walking with her inside the house. You follow her to her room.

She grabs something from her bed. "This is for you." She smiles, handing you the bag. "Not only my baby boy is turning 20 tomorrow, but my heart baby is also turning her twenties."

You hug her, thanking her for always remembering you. You not only found love with Pablo but also found a new family.

"It's so beautiful, thank you, Belen." You say, opening the gift as she told you to do. "I love it."

"I'm so sad you guys will spend your birthday alone in Barcelona." She pouts. "But I'm sure you two are going to spend it together and will have all the fun in the world."

You nod, you open your arms to hug her again. "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

"Let's go back to the party. You need cake before leaving." She smiles.

You save the gift in your suitcase, that way you won't forget about it. You also save the bracelet Pablo bought you.

When you are downstairs, you see Pablo's little cousins, two gorgeous girls who always talk to you, and ask you to play princess.

"Chicas!" You smile at them, hugging Pablo by the shoulders. "You found the prince."

"We found your prince." One of them say, making the other laugh.

"Gracias, princesa." You say to her. "Now what if we sing the prince the happy birthday song?"

They clap their hands happily, nodding their heads. You know they want to eat cake since they arrived.

"And then we can swim with you?"

"I can't swim right now, but next time, I promise to do it." You bump their noses, making them laugh.

They nod eagerly, hugging you by the waist. "We want cake, tho."

You laugh, turning to see Gavi looking at you with a happy face. His smile is so adorable in your eyes.

"Ready to eat cake, amor?"

"Si, let's do this, mis princesas." He grabs the kids' hands, sitting on a chair. You call the guests to sing with you.

You know Pablo is super shy when it comes to things that include a lot of people. And the fact that he's getting the birthday song all to himself, it makes him extra shy.

But you wanted for him to get the spotlight, it was his party, it was his family, and you did all of that for him.

He was shy but happy, hugging his little cousins while they clap their hands at him. The little kisses they gave him made him blush.

"Wait, princesas." You say, "let's take a picture with Pablito."

You let Pablo take pictures with his family and friends. Finishing with you. He does grabby hands to you.

"My old guy." You joke with him. "Grandpa."

"You were born before me." He laughs. "Your mom told me that."

"Joder, she exposed me." You pout. "You are still my grandpa. Just today." you peck his lips.

Aurora take some pictures of you two, smiling and one kissing his cheek because you love how red Pablo gets when you give him cheek kisses.

You eat cake and spend your last minutes with his family. You and Aurora were inside talking, you were going to miss her.

"When are you supposed to leave?" She asks.

You check your phone, noticing the time. "Maybe in like half an hour." You pout again, "I'll miss you so much."

"Me too, I feel like I haven't seen you since I was on vacation with my boyfriend."

"That means you have to take a trip to Barcelona and visit me." You hug her.

"Oh, wait, I have something for you." She runs to her bag, taking out a little box. "Open it."

You open the box, finding a pair of earrings she brought you from her recent vacation. You loved them because they fit your aesthetic so much.

"Thank you, Rora." You give her a big hug. "I love them."

You two keep talking until you notice you are about to run out of time to get to the airport. Aurora does the work for you and calls Pablo to get his things so you get yours.

"Ready to get back?" He asks. Pocking your side. You nod, pocking his side while he picks his luggage. "Stay with me tonight." He asks.

You nod, wanting to wake up with him for your birthday. You grab your small suitcase and help him with his big one.

You say goodbye to his family and friends. You thank Belen, Pablo, and Aurora again. For the gifts and the weekend.

The drive to the airport and flight was calm, Pablo got some sleep during the flight. He was tired from all the fun he had.

You woke him up when you landed. He was pouty after that. "Don't be mad, bebé." You kiss him. "We are almost at your house. You can sleep when we get there."

"Sorry, it's the heavy feeling of being a grandpa." He jokes with you.

You laugh while he grabs both yours and his luggage. He was a little less pouty as you two approach his house.

"Gracias." He says to the driver as he leaves the luggage inside the house. "Have a nice night."

You feel tired from the long and happy day you had. "I need a bath." You say stretching your arms.

"Hey, why don't you put this on the kitchen, please." He asks, passing you a small container with food his mom packed in case you wanted to eat.

You nod, walking with your phone in hand. Updating your family on where you are and that you are safe and sound at Pablo's house.

You don't notice the small thing Pablo's put together with the help of your best friend. When he noticed you didn't notice the table with the cake, he walked to it and waited for you to get out of the kitchen.

You stopped as you saw him standing behind the table. "Feliz cumpleaños a ti!" He starts singing.

You smile at him, walking closer to the table. "Pablo, amor!" You squint your eyes and scrunch your nose at how happy you are.

"Feliz cumpleaños, querida Y/n!" He keeps singing. "Feliz cumpleaños a ti." He grabs the cake and gets it closer to your face. "Make a wish, amor."

You close your eyes, thinking about what you want to wish. You then blow the candles and bite a little bit of the cake.

"Te amo." You say, walking around the table. You hug him, grabbing his face on your hands and kissing his lips.

"I have this for you." He stretched his arm for the jewelry box. "I saw you looking at some rings and wanted to get you one."

You love how he can make you feel special without even thinking much into it. "Gracias, Pablo. You make me so happy!"

You kiss him again, you love how he makes you feel, how much love he has for you and how much love you have for him.

The clock his grandmother gave him that has a bird announcing midnight and noon does its sound announcing midnight.

You stretch your hand to where the lighter is, lighting a candel. "Make a wish, amor." You say to him.

"I have everything I wanted." He peck you, blowing the candel after. "Feliz cumpleaños, amor."

"Feliz cumpleaños, Pablito!"

Yourusername has added to their story

[pombeom]

the thighs that call to me | beomjun thoughts

warnings: THIGHS, dom!yeonjun x sub!reader, switch!beomgyu x switch!reader, thigh grabbing, pda, exhibitionism?, fondling, touch deprived, teasing, thigh riding, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, (lmk if i’ve forgotten anything)

a/n: saw a tik tok of yeonjun grabbing beomgyu’s thighs and the thoughts i was having were so immoral that i just had to write them down 🤭

yeonjun

yeonjun is the type to grab your thighs whenever he can. in the car, in the theatre, under the table during dinner with your parents. name the place and he’s probably got his large hands wrapped around your leg, squeezing it in his palm. he’s probably tease you too by inching his warm hands up your bare thighs, getting closer and closer to your core and you hold in the gasp when his fingers brush past your clothed clit, your face contorting as your eyes shut and you bite your lip to suppress the moans. he laughs at your reaction but continues lingering his fingers over your underwear, your slick leaking through the thin fabric and wetting his fingertips. it isn’t long before you’re home and he’s ripping your clothes off you, throwing them in any direction he pleases, grabbing both your thighs as he opens them wide revealing your glistening pussy. his thumbs would stroke your upper thigh getting so close to your hole but not quite touching it making your arch your back and grind the air in desperation. circling his thumbs around for folds, he’d have you squirming and cumming without even being touched directly. after a little begging however, he’d let you ride his dick, his hands still on your thighs as he guided you up and down his length making sure you take every inch.

beomgyu

teasing beomgyu is always fun and games until it turns against you. often times you find that your hands always wander over to beomgyu’s lean muscular thighs, grabbing a hold of the inside of his leg knowing that it’s where he’s the most sensitive. all it takes is the contact of your fingers against his skin of his thigh to have him squirming and whimpering. sometimes you go even further by hopping onto his thigh, sitting in it with your bare cunt grinding against the fabric of his coarse jeans, creating a wet patch. he gets hard almost instantly as he grunts, pushing his thigh deeper into your core until you have your first orgasm of the night. you expect him to stop but his grip on your waist only tightens as he guides you into riding his thigh even more, leaving you overstimulated and his jeans in a wet mess. you thought you had him under your control but now he’s dominating you as he makes you cum repeatedly on his jeans, caring little for his own pleasure, getting off on your moans and the mess you’re making in his clothes.

[kydrogendragon]

Hob stares down at the small medicinal tube in his hands. He has been staring at it now for nearly an hour, and the ripple of excitement still runs through him. He takes a breath and unscrew the cap. The scent hits his nose immediately, and it's not...unpleasant, not really, but it certainly is strong. He squeezes a small dollop onto the pad of his finger and presses it against the under-responsive scent glands.

He knows, from his doctor and testimonials on the internet and even from friends he knows that the effects aren't instant. It's a gradual process, one that will take time, and yet the moment the cream is absorbed into his skin, Hob just feels better. He feels right.

Hob screws the cap back on and sets it down on the sink, beside his toothbrush and razor, ready for daily use. He looks up into the mirror and smiles.

It takes less time than he expects for Dream to notice. He's now been two months on A as of last Friday, and he's starting to notice changes (finally!) Nothing major, mainly that his scent glands have gotten more noticeable—to him, that is. They've started to itch in a way they never have before. And his sense of smell has gotten sharper too. The first time, he caught a wiff of Dream's scent from inside the crowded bar and knew it was him? Hob was ecstatic. So it shouldn't come as too big of a surprise when Dream stares at him with an even sharper gaze than usual when he answers the door.

Hob stands, bag of take-out in one hand, and a copy of the extended Lord of the Rings movies in the other. Dream looks him up and down, his nostrils flaring. Hob wonders, perhaps a bit tok late, if his scent is finally beginning to change as well now.

"You..." Dream starts, then shakes his head. "Come in."

Hob blinks but steps through, making his way to their usual movie spot in the living room of Dream's flat. "Mrs. Chen tossed in an order of samosas for you again," he says, untying the thin plastic bag handles. He hears the telltale sound of drinks being prepared in the kitchen.

"Mrs. Chen is simply determined to fatten me up," Dream calls back. Hob chuckles as he sets out the containers of food, then sets the DVD case on the television stand.

While Dream's still preoccupied, Hob takes a moment and wipes his hand across his scent glands, and takes a whiff. It's stronger, perhaps, than usual, but it still smells like him, he thinks. Maybe he just stinks in general, and Dream was being polite and not saying anything. He has been sweating a lot more since being on HRT.

He hums and settles into his usual spot on the couch.

[Transition stuff. They're chatting/watching the movie, ect.]

"Have you started seeing someone?" Dream asks him right as the screen prompts them to put in disk two. Hob whips his head back to find Dream staring at him with that piercing gaze once more.

"No? Why?"

"Because you do not smell like yourself." Dream's eyes narrow. Hob's heart jumps in his chest. Shit. Maybe he's gotten a bit nose blind to his own scent.

"I'm not seeing anyone, I promise. I'd tell you if I was." Dream eyes him a moment longer before huffing and turning back to the screen.

"I am not a fragile thing, Hob Gadling," Dream says coolly. "I will survive if you have found a possible mate. It is not as if I am some—some charge you are responsible for, that if you leave, I will shatter. Despite what my sister might claim."

"Dream—"

"And if you have found an alpha you are happy with, then I will be... happy—" his tone is anything but "—for you. But you needn't lie to me when I can smell their scent all over you."

"Their scent..." Hob's hand trails up to his neck, palm resting just above his itching gland.

"Yes. You reek of it. It permeates from you as if you have drowned yourself in it." Dream stands, stepping towards the DVD player but not quite finishing the small journey there. "I will understand if you find yourself with less time for me because of it. It is only natural to want to spend time with the one that makes you happy," he adds on, voice smaller than before.

Hob stands and reaches out, grabbing a hold of Dream's arm. He tenses in Hob's hold but doesn't turn, nor does he pull away.

"Dream, I—There's something I need to tell you." Dream takes a deep breath in as if preparing himself for the inevitable. "I should have told you sooner, I just...I didn't know what you'd think.

"I'm not seeing anyone, that's true, but you're right. This scent you're smelling is new. Guess I've been nose blind to it lately. But it's not anyone else's. It's...it's mine. Well, my new scent, I guess. For this moment of time. It might keep changing, I'm not really sure."

Dream angles his head to stare at Hob from the corners of his eyes, his face confused. Hob smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm transitioning. To an alpha. S'why I smell different. And why a whole bunch of other things about me might soon be...different."

Hob waits. Dream just stares. He can practically see the gears turning in his friend's head.

"Why were you afraid of telling me this?"

Hob lets Dream's arm go and slots his hands in his pockets. He looks down as he speaks. "Dunno. I know after Alex—" Hob sees Dream's muscles in his leg twitch at the name "—you weren't...I thought..." Hob sighs, neck tensing as he struggles against the persistent nagging fear lodged in his chest. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I didn't want to scare you off or lose you because you couldn't feel comfortable around me anymore."

"Do you truly believe me to be so weak?"

"That's not what I meant. You're not weak, I've never thought you were weak, Dream. But you can be uncomfortable. I can count the number of alphas you're fine with in close quarters on one hands and three of them are your own family."

"And why would you think you would not immediately be added to that list?"

Hob inhales, breath catching partway. "I...I don't know. Didn't want to presume? Thought maybe you'd find my new scent unbearable or something."

Dream shakes his head. "You are a fool, Hob Gadling." He turns to him fully, eyeing him no longer with doubt or concern, but with a new hunger in his eyes. His nostrils flare again as he takes in Hob's scent properly. Hob smiles when he hears the quiet happy trill in Dream's chest.

"Acceptable smell then?"

"Quite," Dream replies, stepping closer. "In fact, it is possibly the best scent I've smelled from an alpha before."

Hob's heart sings as Dream calls him an alpha. It's the first time he's heard it from someone he knows, someone who's not a doctor or pharmacist. It feels good. Feels right. And then Dream's leaning closer, and Hob can feel his soft cheek against Hob's neck, and his body flares at the touch. Dream rubs his cheek against his skin, scenting him, letting their scents combine.

Hob takes a deep breath and is smacked by a nose full of Dream. It's intoxicating. It's rich and smooth like silk. And it's doing something to his mind that it never did before. His instincts scream at him, tell him to hold, to touch, to claim. His skin ripples with anticipation, and it's torture. And it's this that he was afraid of. That he wouldn't be used to the instincts that come with being an alpha, that he wouldn't be able to resist or wouldn't be used to stopping himself.

He steps back, pushing Dream back by his shoulders. His hands dig into Dream's shirt, and when he sees the hurt expression on his face, Hob wants nothing more than to pull him back close, to comfort his omega.

No. Not his.

"I'm sorry, I..." Hob grimaces as he drops his hands and wraps them around his chest as if it would somehow quell the utter need to bite and to mate. "I should go, I—I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"What is wrong?"

Hob growls, heat beginning to rise in him "Fuck," he hisses. "I think it's a damn rut. Well. A pre-rut, technically. Not a true one but—" he's cut off as a sharp lance to his side causes him to gasp. He stpes back, falling into the couch. When he looks back up, Dream's eyes are dark.

"That is what I smelled on you. Rut. Or the start of it. No wonder your scent was so strong. Is this your first?" Dream closes the distance, standing between Hob's legs, which does nothing to help the deaire to pull him down into his lap and ravish him.

"Technically," he replies, breathing growing shorter. "It won't last as long, at least it shouldn't. Maybe a day max. But they'll start more frequently until I get my first actual rut." Hob growls once more as that lance of pain shoots through him again.

"Fucking hell," he yells. "Do your heats hurt like this?"

"Sometimes, yes. Though, it is easier if shared with a partner."

Hob squeezes his eyes tight as he rides out the wave of pain. "Yeah? Guess I'm shit out of luck then."

There are hands on his knees, slowly pulling his legs apart. When he opens his eyes, he sees Dream knelt between them looking predatory. "Not quite. I am here, after all."

Hob's breath catches in his throat. "Dream—"

"I know you do not want me for a mate, but it is not uncommon for friends to help one another through ruts and heats—"

"—the fuck do you mean I don't want you for a mate?" Hob cries, his hands cupping Dream's face. Clearly this was not what he expected Hob to say because Dream kneels there, blinking for a moment before continuing.

"You...do? Wish me as a mate?"

Hob laughs. Dream scowls, but Hob just leans forward and presses a light kiss to his forehead. "I've wanted you for years now, Dream."

[They figure their shit out briefly]

[Then Dream rides Hob like a goddamn professional bull-rider. Hob's never come so much in his life. And he even gets the barest hint of a knot going. Dream compliments it and tells Hob he fills him so well, that he can't wait to get Hob's final knot in him and how he looks forward to going on this journey with Hob as well.]

[forsinnersandsaintsalike]

How they might respond to the popular ‘boots’ poem from Tik Tok

Captain John Price

As the rhythmic, almost hypnotic lines of "Boots" play, Price sits back in his chair, the cigar in his hand smoldering.

His eyes narrow, deep in thought, as the repetitive beat of the poem pulls him into memories of endless patrols and grueling marches.

"Marchin'... marchin'... marchin'..."

When the poem ends, he's silent for a moment before speaking. "Kipling knew what he was talkin' about, didn't he? That endless slog... it's somethin' only a soldier would understand. The monotony. The weight."

He takes a long drag of his cigar and glances at you. "Thanks for sharin' that, love. Strange as it sounds, it's comforting. Makes you feel like you're not the only one who's been through it."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, as you play the recording of

"Boots." His face is unreadable beneath the mask, but his eyes flicker as the relentless cadence of the poem fills the room.

"Don't-don't-don't-don't-look at what's in front of you..."

When it's over, he lets out a soft huff.

"Kipling captured it perfectly. That feeling... when your body's numb, your mind's blank, and all you can do is keep moving. It's eerie how real it feels, even now."

He shifts his weight, glancing at you.

"Not exactly bedtime reading, but... it hits home. Thanks for that."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Soap listens intently, his head tilted as the relentless rhythm of the poem unfolds. By the time it's finished, he's drumming his fingers on the table, caught up in the relentless beat.

"Marchin'... marchin'... aye, it's bloody brilliant," he says with a small, bittersweet smile. "Kipling knew the life-boots on the ground, head down, keep goin' no matter what. It's a hard truth, but there's somethin' poetic about it, eh?"

He pauses, then grins at you. "You've got good taste, lass. Next time, we'll pair it with a wee dram of whisky— make it a proper soldier's night."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

As you play "Boots," Gaz leans forward, elbows on his knees, his brow furrowed. The relentless rhythm and repetition seem to strike a chord with him, pulling him into a reflective silence.

When the poem ends, he exhales deeply. "It's... heavy. That rhythm-it's like being back there, y'know? Just putting one foot in front of the other, over and over, hoping it's leading somewhere."

He looks up at you with a small smile.

"Kipling nailed it, though. Makes you appreciate the quiet moments even more. Thanks for sharing that-it's powerful."

Phillip Graves

Graves listens with an intense expression, his jaw tightening as the rhythmic lines of "Boots" play out. By the time it ends, he's leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Damn," he mutters. "That's... accurate. Too accurate. The repetition, the monotony-it gets under your skin after a while. And Kipling? Man knew his stuff."

He gives you a nod, his expression softening. "Thanks for that, darlin'. It's a reminder of where we've been—and why we do what we do. Even if it's not pretty."

König

König listens quietly, his towering frame still, his gaze fixed on the floor as the steady cadence of "Boots" fills the room. The relentless repetition seems to resonate with him on a deep level.

When it ends, he takes a deep breath and looks at you. "It is... haunting," he says softly, his Austrian accent giving the words a weight of their own. "The endless march, the monotony-it reminds me of how the mind... shuts down sometimes. Just to survive."

He offers you a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you for sharing that.

Kipling understood soldiers, even across time. It's... comforting, in a strange way."

You play back that one part:

Try-try-try—try—to think o' something different —

Oh—my-God-keep—me from goin' lunatic!

(Boots-boots-boots-boots—

movin' up an' down again!)

There's no discharge in the war!

“What did you think of this part specifically?”

Price leans forward, rubbing his beard as he replays the words in his head.

"That part... it gets to you, doesn't it?

Tryin' to think of anything but the grind, but it's no good. War doesn't let you switch off-it keeps you trapped, even in your own mind."

He sighs, lighting a cigar. "The line 'keep me from goin' lunatic' —yeah, I've been there. Sometimes it feels like the only way to keep sane is to stop thinkin' altogether." He looks at you, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "It's raw, but it's real. Makes you respect what we've been through-and what we survived."

Ghost stares at the floor for a long moment, his fingers twitching slightly.

''Oh—my-God—keep—me from goin' lunatic!" He repeats the line slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's the desperation in it that gets me. When you're so far gone, you're just beggin' for your mind to hold on."

He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze distant. "That line... it hits too close to home. And 'there's no discharge in the war'? Feels like a life sentence, doesn't it? Like even if you make it out, part of you never really leaves."

Soap's usual cheerfulness is tempered as he leans back, crossing his arms.

'Try-to think o' somethin' different!

Aye, l've been there. You want to escape, even just in your head, but the war doesn't let you. It follows you— boots and all."

He gives you a small, sad smile. "The whole 'movin' up an' down again' part?

That's the rhythm you can't escape.

Even when you're not marchin', it's like it's still happenin' inside you. Kipling got it spot-on, didn't he?"

Gaz exhales slowly, his brow furrowed as he considers the lines.

"Keep me from goin' lunatic! That's heavy. It's like... when you're out there, your brain tries to protect you by shutting down, but sometimes even that isn't enough."

He shakes his head. "And 'there's no discharge in the war'? That's the real kicker. It's saying there's no escape, no relief-just the same grind, over and over." He glances at you. "It's brutal, but it's honest. Makes you wonder how Kipling knew it so well."

Graves nods slowly, his jaw tightening as he repeats the lines under his breath.

''Keep me from goin' lunatic! That's the part, right there. It's like Kipling captured what it feels like to hit your breaking point but still have to keep moving. No time to process. No time to feel. Just... keep marchin'."

He lets out a dry chuckle. "And that last line-'there's no discharge in the war! Damn right there isn't. Even when you think you're out, the memories, the habits-they stick with you. Forever."

König listens to the lines again, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

'''Try-to think o' something different.'

It's like your mind is screaming for an escape, but there's no way out. And

'keep me from goin' lunatic'-I've felt that. When the march seems endless, and you think... if I take one more step, I'll break."

He pauses, his voice softening.

''There's no discharge in the war.' That's the hardest part. Even when the war is over, it stays with you. In your head. In your body. Kipling... he understood the weight soldiers carry."

"I think it's very comforting in a way, I've never been in war not like you but I can only describe what he's feeling as...drowning. I know how it feels to drown. Drown in your own head, drown in your own emotions I know what it feels like to want to run from something that kills you but you just can't get your legs to move. I know what it feels like to feel like you're crazy or you're losing your mind. I feel sorry for you..." The room falls into a heavy silence after your words, each of them processing the depth of what you just shared.

Price's eyes soften, his cigar forgotten in the ashtray as he listens intently.

When you finish, he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"You've got a way with words, love," he says, his voice low and steady.

"You're right-it does feel like drowning. Like there's no way up for air, no way out."

He reaches out, placing a hand over yours. "But you're stronger than you think. I can see that in you. And for what it's worth, you're not alone in it anymore. Not with me here."

Ghost doesn't speak right away, his posture rigid, his eyes staring into a far-off place. Your words seem to cut through his armor, and when he finally looks at you, his gaze is intense.

"You don't need to feel sorry for me," he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "But... I get it. That feeling.

Being trapped in your own head. It's a different kind of war, but it's just as bloody."

He shifts closer, his gloved hand brushing against yours. "You're not crazy. And you're not alone. Don't ever forget that."

Soap listens with an unusual seriousness, his usual playful demeanor replaced by quiet reflection.

When you finish, he exhales deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Drownin'... aye, that's a good way to put it," he murmurs. "You're not wrong -it's like sinkin' deeper and deeper, and no one sees it happenin'."

He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft smile.

"But you're still here, yeah? Still fightin'. That says a hell of a lot about you. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

Gaz's expression is pained as he absorbs your words, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. When you finish, he shakes his head slightly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I'm sorry you've felt like that," he says softly. "You shouldn't have to carry that weight, not on your own."

He hesitates before leaning closer, his hand covering yours. "You might feel like you're drowning, but you're not alone anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure it out together, yeah?"

Graves leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than usual.

"Damn," he mutters, shaking his head.

"I knew you were strong, but hearing that? Makes me respect you even more."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're right—it is like drowning. But listen to me. You don't have to fight it alone anymore. I've got you, darlin'. Always."

König's brows knit together as he listens, his large frame unusually still.

When you finish, he exhales deeply, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't know you felt that way," he says, his accent heavy with emotion.

"But I understand. That feeling... it's suffocating."

He gently takes your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"You're not crazy, and you're not alone. I will always be here for you, no matter what."

[agirlwithglam]

this will stop your addiction to scrolling.

do you even realise how long an hour is? 2 hours, 3 hours, and it goes on.

in this post, we will be chatting about all things scrolling. learnings from a book i read, sciences, information from articles, the negative impacts of it, and ways to fix it. grab a snack and a warm cozy drink, because this is gonna take a while! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

many times i sit at home thinking that that i "haven't got enough time" to use a whole hour of my day just doing one thing. but then i open my phone, i impulsively go to youtube shorts. "one video" i tell myself. but its never just one video is it? i ended up on my phone for a bit over 1 hour that day. it was disgusting. it made me so mad. i could have spent that time on a hobby, a skill, with my sibling, going for a walk, reading, doing something, anything else! but i didn't. i was so angry i immediately put my phone on airplane mode and switched it off.

see, the thing with scrolling is that you dont even realise how much time has passed! at first it may just be 2:30 but then the next minute you look at it, its already 4pm. and boom. 1.5 hours of time, valuable time has just been gone, evaporated, into thin air. do you not get disgusted of yourself?

the amounts of negatives to scrolling will easily outway any value it brings. whether its youtube, instagram, tik tok, twitter, etc. whatever value or thing you're trying to achieve from these, there will ALWAYS be a better alternative!

this is one of the concepts in the book Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport. it talks about the philosophy behind reducing the time you spend on technologies. see your time as money- say an app charges you by the minute. would you use it as often? you'd probably try to find different ways to getting that same "value" you think your receiving from these addicting apps.

example (for more older people):

you may tell yourself that by being on twitter for hours on end is useful because it can help you get knowledge, news and new connections with people, but that same value you can get- if not more- from just attending monthly or quarterly events, or having a conversation with people, or hand picking a few honest and effective articles to read for a couple minutes each day. as you see, immediately you start to get the same effects you'd be getting from twitter- but more + with much less the amount of time.

or an example from platforms like yt, tiktok, etc.

if it is planned and you've actually told yourself "i have worked very hard, i deserve having a bit of down time to scroll and switch off." , go ahead. (of course there are ways to get that same brain switch off feeling like doodling/ colouring, writing a diary and letting your mind wander, reading a fiction book, taking a bath, etc. but if you've intentionally made this choice, if you truly think this is whats right currently, go for it.)

but lets be real. a lot of the time, its unintentional. even if we have chosen to do it thinking that it is the best thing to do, are you really willing risk hours of your valuable time? "one more video" we ALL say that. its not new. so dont you ever get tired of your excuses? tired having your time thrown away just because you couldn't control yourself? what is that pleasure we get from scrolling?

dopamine.

scrolling activates the brain's reward center by releasing dopamine. every new mini video, like, comment is always keeping us hooked, making us want more and more until it never ends. until its 10pm at night and you're still here. on your phone.

ok so i know i've yapped on a lot. in fact you're probably too lazy and have to less of an attention span to read it all. (yep, also the effect of scrolling.) so,

heres a list of all the harms of scrolling: to enlighten you, not to scare you. (okay maybe a bit to scare you)

lesser attention span. as i mentioned earlier, scrolling reduces your attention span which means it reduces the amount of time you can spend reading, walking, just sitting idle. or you even may not be able to watch a movie without having something on the side like your phone to scroll on! (guilty😬). when that happens, you know something is seriously wrong. if you want to be able to watch a movie without needing all these different distractions, keep reading.

makes you more bored. yeah! i was surprised by this as well ngl!! this also applies to the point about attention span. scrolling can make you feel more bored because all that scrolling, and your brain being super hyper will make you feel bored at the things you used to feel excited by (ex: watching a movie! , reading a book)

increased anxiety and stressed. imagine not being able to stay away from your phone for even a few hours without feeling stressed. thats just so sad but also a truth for many of us. not just that but it can also leave you feeling overwhelmed and hopeless.

sleep disruption. this isn't new. we all know that scrolling late until night not only can affect your sleep schedule/ sleep timings, but also the blue light from your screen stops your brain from making melatonin (a hormone that helps you sleep), which then also affects your sleep. and we know what that can lead to.

on top of all that, it can make you disconnected from real life, nature, increase comparison, harms relationships, productivity and focus and the list goes on.

but you probably don't want to listen to this anymore. you're here because you may be feeling angry. angry at yourself, at your phone, at the internet for taking away so much time that could be spent living a happier life. you have actually felt the harms and now want a change.

[disclaimer: not all of these tips can apply to you depending on your job, your situation, career, relationships, etc etc. take and apply whatever you can.]

tips to stop scrolling (as much):

delete all the social media apps. anything that you scroll on frequently, delete it. this isn't to say that you can't access it at all, you can have it on your laptop or ipad. but the point is that it will increase the friction between you and opening that app.

switch up your feed. this is the very least you can do. start by pressing "not interested" on anything that isn't providing you any actual value. start following people who do provide value. slowly, change your feed to a more positive, motivational page which just makes you feel more inspired/ better every time you leave from it.

set a screen time limit on your phone + set the password as "i failed". this is something i got from online a while ago and its such a good idea! not only will the screen time limit prevent you from further usage, but also setting a password like "i failed" makes you really feel the impact of betrayal to yourself which will make you refrain from doing so!

slowly by slowly, work to reduce the amount of time you scroll everyday.

find the alternative!! okay so now you arent on your phone, aren't scrolling. now what? if you dont already have things that you can do in this immense amount of free time you have, then of course you'd surrender back to scrolling. fill your days with hobbies, new skills, being with other people, with nature, with meaningful and fulfilling activities. "do more things that make you forget to use your phone."

linking back to the earlier point, GET A HOBBY. ngl, it is SAD to only spend your days, vacations, weekends on the damn phone. get off of it! is your life that sad an empty that you have literally nothing better to do then scroll on your phone? thats actually pathetic.

switch off notifications / put on do not disturb- so you dont get constantly reminded

find out why you start in the first place. for me, it used to be an escape to bad things happening in my life/ around me. once you get to the root cause of why you actually start, work back from there. is there away you can remove that trigger from your life? if not, find a different activity that can help you with that trigger.

keep your phone away from your bed. i do this its actually really helpful because it gets me out of bed to have to turn it off which means i dont go back to sleep. also: if you can get a alarm clock which isn't your phone, even better!

things you can do instead of scrolling:

read a book (if its fiction it may be more enjoyable, but its your choice!)

have a shower

set some goals & a to do list for the day

do a puzzle

wordle

try a new skill/ hobby: crochet, guitar, writing

paint/ draw. and stop making thinking it has to be perfect!! if you see it as perfect, it is.

journal / diary writing

hang out with a friend/ someone

cook/ bake

go for a walk or run

learn something new

put a facemask on

listen to a podcast

sleep

yoga/ exercise

write thankyou notes to people

gratitude list

skincare/ a fun grwm of you!

go to a restaurant

style your clothes

make a wishlist

clean out your camera roll

listen to music & just chill

dance

scrap book- phsysical or digitally!

clean/ organize a space

watch a TV show/ movie- WITHOUT your phone.

go swimming

learn about plants so you can start gardening

other things to read:

Psychology behind it, neuroscience, etc.

why you can't stop mindlessly scrolling + tips

BOOK: Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport

reddit

[4pfsukuna]

Hunch Punch T. Fushiguro

Sneak peak of the Enemies to lovers series and inspired by that tik tok trending sound “come here bae come sit next to me, DAMN YOU ON THE EDGE OF THE BED YOU BOUT TO FALL OFF”

Toji had promised Shiu that he’d be on his best behavior and that he wouldnt bother you. He promised no more witty remarks, no shit talking, no more of him being— him. All because little megumi loved spending time with you and avoiding Toji meant every extension of him unfortunately for little megs too. And the little brat had his death stare down to perfection it was why he had two killer dogs.

You weren't oblivious at all to Tojis stares though, specifically to the way his eyes would roam your curves or even your ass when he thought you werent looking. the floor to ceiling window of the one way hotel window had perfectly outlined his wide muscular frame and the minute you turn around his eyes avert from your frame sk quickly you almost thought you imagined it.

Lets see how well tamed he actually is?

“Hows megs?”you ask and his brows furrow for a second and he almost ask whos that because his only thoughts was that thin tiny piece of fabric that was backless showing your spine tattoo, tiny enough for you to bend over and fry his brain and thin enough to where he could see your nipples— were those nipple piercings?

Oh fuck.

“Good. Hes soo goo—“ and he stops himself in his tracks no he wasnt. “No. hes… he misses you” he shakes his head running a hand through his jet black silky hair before dragging a hand down his face.

You pout sitting down on the bed the scent of your perfume overwhelming and he has to bite his tongue to hold back one of his sly comments thats just on the tip of his lips. He clears his throat at the way you lean forward your breast pressing further into the fabric and he feels his hand grip the soft sheets tighter.

“You okay Toji?” You ask softly but your voice sounds like a goddamn siren calling out her prey he’d never heard that tone and the way you said his name has his knuckles aching from the grip.

“Your ears are red” you giggle and this man was so down bad for you so when your hand reaches out to trail from the top of the shell of his ear to the bottom he shivers grabbing your hand in a tight grip.

When his eyes look over at you your licking your lips the shiny gloss never moving from your pink thick lips.

“Are you?” His voice rasp you acted like you hated him any other time but right now it felt like he was being seduced and damn did he want to fold… and then fold you. There was only one way youd act like this.

“What were you drinking?” He ask arching a brow before you giggle again pulling your hand from his wrist.

“I had two shots… Don Julio act a foolio.” You smile and he sees the way your tongue runs over your sharp teeth. Not enough to have you drunk or even tipsy but enough for him to move further from you on the bed to the edge.

“Mmcht why you all the way over there” you suck your teeth, But its the low lided look in your eyes that has him stuck. You had mentioned something before about scorpios having a certain look they give you that locks you in a trance and he thought it was some stupid zodiac thing until he fealt nearly paralized.

“You on the edge of the bed you ‘bout to fall off” you smirk watching the wheels in his head completely stop turning and fall off track his pupils blown wide as you crawl over to him straddling his lap.

Oh, fuck megumi! the little brat hated him anyways the minute your hand touches his chest, behaving so you could come back over for megumi was over. And fuck Shiu too.

“Having fun mama?” He ask spreading his legs wider, hands coming to stabilize you quickly by your hips but fingers tips grazing the top of your ass. He doesn’t even flinch when you pull the gun from his hip dismantling all 6 pieces. The bullets clinking as they fall onto the hardwood floor.

“Keep letting your hands wander might find something else” he leans forward slightly until your hand presses into his throat making the air thicken more. His eyes wander down between the two of you drinking in every inch of you perched perfectly in his lap and he really wasn’t sure who trapped who.

“I thought you Told Shiu you were going To behave?” You tease this time using your opposite hand to caress his face slowly pulling it up to you.

“Sweetheart, this is me behaving” he chuckles his hand reciprocating yours on your neck pulling you down so his lips are against your ear your eyes fluttering shut.

“If i wasnt…” his thumb presses gently against your pressure point in your neck “id have you ride my tongue until the only thing you can remember is my fucking name.”

And your spun around so your back is up against his firm chest, buldge noticeable against your ass legs dangling on the outside of his. His hand holds your neck in place to make sure youre watching him in the reflection in the window.

“If i wasnt i wouldve ripped this slutty little dress off you and had you pinned to that window fucking so deep inside of you until theres tears” his fingers start to slide under your dress.

“ until youre begging and dont know what youre begging me for: to cum, to go faster to stop or let you breathe” his hands squeezes Around your throat tighter tongue against your ear with a soft groan that you almost miss.

“Until those pretty eyes roll back so far you cant give me the look you’ve been giving me all night” he smirks against your neck pulling your gun and knife both from under your dress dismantling it the same way you did his before returning back to your thighs thumb curling against your black lace thong. He doesnt comment on the wetness just tightens his grip on your neck.

“If youre going to try and kill me be less obvious” he snaps the lace against your clit loving the way you flunch back onto his hard on. He knew you were dangerous but fuck this was the sexiest way anybodys ever tried to kill him. He knew youd never drink on a job nor wear something that revealing but he loved being seduced by you he couldn't lie.

The way you were glairing at him had him smirking because you still looked so fucking sexy and your eyes still had that slightly seductive yet hypnotizing look. 

“Get off me” you hiss though your body shows no fight or signs of wanting to get off him. You werent in distress in the slightest. Not a drop of fear in you when your neck was in the hands of a man who could literally snap it easily if he wanted.

“I can feel how wet you are f’ me mama. You dont want me to ‘get of you’ you want me to get you off” he chuckles cupping your pussy smirking at you through your reflections watching your eyes flutter when his thumb brushes against your clit.

“You comin’ home with me after this… the brat misses you” he purrs in your ear making you nod when he pushes a thick finger inbetween your wet folds soaking his finger up with a squish. 

“Okay baby?” He needs confirmation before loosing his mind in between your legs.

“Not your b-baby” you stutter at the thrust. “But ill come—“ and he thrust further this time cutting your words off.

See megs, you can have your cake and eat it too

“I know you will mama, imma make sure you cum for me” he laughs biting on your neck listening to your soft moan and instantly knowing he’d be down bad for you, how hooked he’d be to hear that sound again.

Shit if he was going to be down bad so were you.

“Let me taste you”

[wileys-russo]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJv9uRjT/

can you write a fic where reader annoys lessi like this while she is trying to order at a drive through for us plsplspls

inspired by the tik tok obviously and also alessia looking good af driving her mercedes

iced coffee II a.russo

you adjusted your seatbelt and tucked one of your knees up to your chest as alessia pulled up to her favourite cafe, which now did drive through. a god send for the blonde who struggled out of bed every morning despite your insistence she wake up or the two of you would be late to training.

it meant it left little to no time for either of you to stop and get a coffee, or make one at home, and so a drive through was the perfect option.

though today neither of you had training, in fact you really weren't sure how you'd ended up passenger princessing for the day alongside your favourite blonde. ring clad fingers drumming the steering wheel her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her favourite pair of black prada sunglasses covered her ocean blue eyes.

your girlfriend for once was the first awake today, gently shaking you and kissing your forehead, sweet nothings mumbled in your ear as she held you tightly while you slowly awoke. you were startled at the time, not planning to have gotten up until eleven without any commitments on today.

you also hadn't thought you'd be waking up next to alessia given she had two photo shoots back to back today with adidas and oakley. when you'd gone to bed the plan had been she’d be out until around three in the afternoon, and you’d not needed to go with her.

but as alessia’s alarm had gone off and she groggily awoke, seeing you dead asleep beside her was a sight she rarely saw given that she was always the last one up between you.

your nose twitching every now and then you stirred and cuddled into her more, tucking your face into her chest as she swooned, your cheeks flushed and hair sprawled across the crisp white linen, rosy pink lips slightly pursed.

alessia was absolutely smitten with you and so in that moment as her heart soared with love for you, she decided you were coming with her today wether you wanted to or not, the thought of leaving you all alone like this was one she simply refused to bare.

however with your day planned to include sleeping, napping and lazing around on the lounge you were much less appreciative of the early wake up and the somewhat forceful change to your schedule.

"good morning! what can i get for you?" the barista chimed out happily as alessia rolled down the window. “good morning! can i please start with a large skim iced caramel-“ the blonde squealed suddenly as your fingers poked beneath her armpit where you knew she was incredibly ticklish.

“what are you doing?” she whispered as she shoved your hand away with a frown, turning back to the window and rambling out an apology as you poked her again with a grin as she flinched.

“oh my god.” her hand shot out to tightly grip your wrist, pinning your hand down in her lap as she realised what you were up to.

“sorry! can i please get a skim iced caramel cappuccino with an extra shot? and also a regular oat flat white with-?” alessia began to rattle off both your orders as usual.

“baby no I want the same as you.” you nudged her with your foot, desperately trying to pull your hand away from her iron vice grip but it was to no use as it remained pinned in her lap.

“sorry can you please make that two of the large skim iced-“

“actually no i’ll have my regular order.” you changed your mind, not missing the warning glare thrown your way by the very irritated blonde beside you who without having had her morning coffee yet, was running on a thin level of tolerance for your antics.

“sorry no i will have the same as you!” you changed your mind again as alessia was mid way through re-ordering your normal choice. “are you serious right now?” the girl flicked her sunglasses on top of her head and scowled in your direction, a simple action which was unexplainably hot to you.

“sorry i’m a bit lost. could you start your order over?” the barista requested politely and you winced as alessia’s nails dug into your wrist in warning as she hastily rattled off two of her regular orders, still trying to pull yourself out of her grip.

“beautiful. can i get anything else for you? we actually just added a brand new breakfast sandwich to the menu. it has bacon, egg, hash brown, sausage patty and cheese!” the barista recounted, clearly having been told to push the newest item.

“ooo that sounds lovely!” alessia nodded along with wide eyes, her stomach grumbling at the thought.

“ooo that sounds lovely!” you mocked her, definitely loud enough for the barista to hear as a slight laugh was quickly covered up by a fake cough and echoed through the speaker.

you only smiled innocently as alessia shot you a murderous glare, her jaw clenched as she opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it, turning back around.

you licked your finger and when she wasn’t paying attention you shoved it in her ear, jumping away as she reached over and tried to hit you, her fist thumping into the leather head rest of her merc.

“you’re testing my fucking patience.” the striker warned quietly, nostrils flared as once again you smiled innocently, finding her ungodly attractive when she was angry with you.

“will that be all?”

“actually can I get both those coffees with light ice?” alessia remembered how quickly it would likely melt in the warmer weather, hardly wanting to water down her favourite beverage.

“no i want regular ice.” you shook your head as alessia started to repeat that. “no actually light is fine!” you changed your mind, shoving the blondes shoulder and tickling under her arm now she’d let your hands go.

“oh my god.” alessia forced herself to take a deep breath, apologising calmly to the barista and repeating her order back at the girls request. but as you started to interrupt her she lunged at you, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and the other slapping over your mouth.

she managed to somehow get through the rest of the order, thanking the barista and moving forward, taking her hand off the back of you neck to steer.

alessia battering off your ongoing attempts to annoy her, settled somewhat by the fact she would have a coffee and breakfast in her hands soon, eventually collecting everything and pulling out of the driveway, not without giving you another withering glare as you happily picked at your food and sipped on your coffee with a grin.

“you are such a brat.”

[chaos-chloe]

Mezcal Sour - Droid X F!Reader

Summary: Jealousy and Alcohol mixed together can lead to something catastrophic or wil it be fortuitous?

TW: Alcohol, flirting(?), cursing, female pronouns, jealousy, bar/club atmosphere

*Hey ____ we are all headin to the club down the street in about 30-45 mins, if you want to come*

*who is all gonna be there*

*Me, Grizzy, Puffer, and yourrrr homeboy, you definitely dont like*

*oh STFU!*

*yes, ill come tho. Ill get ready in 30*

*cool see ya soon*

I threw my phone down to my right side and flopped back on my bed with a huff. I laid there for a few minutes trying to piece a cute outfit together in my head with the clothes I bought for the con. Once I finally figured out what I was going to wear and how I was gonna style it, I got to work. I dug through my messily packed suitcase, grabbed my makeup case, my hair products and headed to the bathroom. I hung my outfit on the back of the bathroom door on hangers to let the heat try to unwrinkle them as much as possible.

After getting my clothes settled I started unpacking my makeup bag and plugged in my hair crimper. Letting my crimper heat up, I get started on my makeup, basic as hell. I know I'm probably going to sweat it off if I do a full glam look. I reached with my right hand for my tinted moisture, and did two pumps in my left hand. Rubbing my hands together, trying to achieve an even amount of product in both hands, my hands separate stretching my hands to my face. I began to gloss the moisture all over my face, after rubbing it in completely I was letting it dry. 

I grabbed my black, one shoulder, black velvet textured material shirt and threw it on, so i didn't mess my hair or my “makeup” up. I then went on a seek and find hunt on the counter for my fluffy makeup brush and my Urban Decay nude palette. Once, both items were in my hand, I dipped my brush in the light tannish/brown color and painted my eyelid. Packed the corner of my eyelid with the most pigment then blending it out towards the inner corner of my eyelid, to give it an ombre effect. 

When both eyes are done I then grab my waterproof Fenty Beauty mascara and try to volumize these small and thin eyelashes.  My___ eyes raked over my face to see if my work was exceptional or needed more effect, I believed I looked good just needed clear lip gloss and my make up was finished. 

After applying the tube of Tik Tok shop brand lip gloss, my lips are extra kissable tonight, hopefully.  I turned around on my heel to snag my skinny black jeans off the hanger without breaking the cheap plastic. I walked out of the bathroom to my hotel bed to sit on the end, so i wouldn’t have to balance to put on my pants. Now, I got my pants up and went to my carry on which I had my shoes packed.

I did a double take/thoughton which shoes to wear but ultimately I went with my strappy, criss cross black heels with a gold accent on the bridge. This time I balanced myself with my right hand on the wall to put on my left heel and vice versa with the other heel. I tripled checked my outfit and gave myself a pep talk to get my confidence up. I'm thinking tonight might be the night I'm not a pussy. 

 *BEEP BEEP*

*im headin to your room, 222?

*yes, im almost ready, should be ready when you get here*

*just lettin ya know, that the guys are coming w/ me**

*damn, ugh okay.*

*NOW YOU HAVE ME EXTRA NERVOUS*

*HEY youll be okay, ill play along to see if we can get droid to confess to you ;)*

*now youre in the dog house, your buying me my first drink*

*fine fine, i can do that ;)*

I shook my head at his ridiculously confidence that Droid will confess to me. I ran over to my bag and grabbed my deodorant and perfume and applied where it matters, I NEED to smell good and not like sweat. 

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

I ran my hands over my outfit to get the sweat and nerves off of me, I let my confidence take over, so I am not a complete mess. I opened the door to see the guys all looking nice.

“Well hello gorgeous, let me walk you to your car.” Droid says with his arm out, I chuckle as I take his arm. Everyone chuckles at Droid playing a gentleman back in the days.

“Good sir, you are aware that we are walking to a club, definitely not driving.” I go with the bit but still keep it real.

“Oh well- I-Erm- Let me walk you to your destination good lady.” Droid stumbles through his sentence, ending it with laughter but still having arms linked together.

We are walking to the elevator with small talk going on throughout the groups, I’m keeping quiet, I look over to Pezzy and he just winks at me. I wink back as he raises an eyebrow at me, Droid catches on to us being silly.

“Wait- What's going on here? Is my fair maiden cheating on me? With a lonely scum?” Droid acts offended at us play flirting

“No, No my good sir. I could never lay my eyes on a lonely scum. My eyes only work for you.” I responded with his humor.

“Ugh, how dare you do this to me?!” Droid keeps the joke going, letting go of my arm pretending to be offended.

I walk out of the elevator laughing and shaking my head. Pezzy catches up to me, since I was the first one off the elevator. Droid, Puffer, and Grizzy are all in their own conversation walking behind us, leaving Pezzy and I to talk about my hopeless crush.

The pulsating bass thumped through the dimly lit nightclub, a hypnotic rhythm that engulfed the crowd. Strobe lights danced across the room, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope of color. Laughter mingled with the music, the sounds faded into a dull roar for me. I leaned against the bar, nursing her drink while casting furtive glances towards Droid.

He was surrounded by a trio of girls, their laughter ringing like chimes against the booming bass. Each of them leaned in closer, their voices rising in pitch, a chorus of flirty teasing that made my blood simmer. One girl, a tall blonde with sparkling blue eyes, tossed her hair back and laughed a little too loudly, her hand brushing against Droid’s arm. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as I watched him smile, his head thrown back in genuine amusement. 

My grip on my glass tightened as I forced herself to take a deep breath. 

"It's just harmless fun," I told myself, but the whisper of doubt crept in. Was it really just fun? The way they leaned in, the playful nudges, the seemingly endless flow of laughter? Each giggle felt like a tiny dagger, and the more I watched, the tighter the knot in my stomach twisted. Did I really have the confidence to confess anymore?

I turned my gaze to the floor, where clusters of people danced with abandon, illuminated by a flurry of colorful lights. But even in that moment, the joy around me felt hollow. I took a sip of my drink, letting the icy burn of the alcohol sting my throat. I just want to shake off the feeling, to enjoy the night, but every time I glanced back at Droid, my heart plummeted further into the void. 

“Hey, you okay?” Pezzy slid up beside me, concern etched across his face. 

I forced a smile, masking my insecurities. “Yeah, just... soaking it all in,” I replied, my voice lacking its usual spark of light. 

Pezzy followed my line of sight. The trio of girls was still clustered around Droid, their voices overlapping in a playful symphony that made my chest tight. 

“I mean, it’s just a night out, right? He’s not going anywhere,” I asked, reaching down into myself for reassurance. Pezzy squeezed my shoulder, knowing Droid, he shook his head yes.

“You know you’re the one he wants to be with,” Pezzy said, a mix of encouragement and irritation in her voice. “Why would he waste his time with them?”

I wish I knew that Pezzy was right. I thought Droid and I had something real, something special—yet watching him shine under those girls’ attention felt like stumbling under a spotlight that I couldn’t escape. Each shared laugh felt like another inch of emotional space carved between us.

Finally, gathering myself resolve, I pushed away from the bar. “I’m going to go talk to him, and possibly put our plan into action.” I declared, trying to inject confidence into my words, even if it felt forced. Pezzy raised an eyebrow, his expression cautious but supportive. Using the fake enhanced confidence that the alcohol gave me, I strut my way to them.

As I neared the group, my heart raced, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I could hear them clearly now—each flirty comment, each teasing remark pierced me. But I refused to be sidelined on my own crush.

“Hey, handsome!” I called out, forcing a smile that was perfectly poised between casual and confrontational. Droid turned, his face lighting up with surprise that quickly melted into warmth. The girls paused, their chatter dwindling as they sized me up with easy curiosity. 

“Hey, ____!" Droid's voice was inviting, and despite the tension, Ifelt a small flicker of relief. 

I sidled up next to him, my hand settling possessively on his arm. “I thought I’d come check on you,” I said, my voice casual, though my heart raced. The trio exchanged glances, the atmosphere thickening as they silently gauged the shift.

Droid grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good timing! We were just talking about the wildest things we’ve seen in the club.” 

I smiled back, tightening my grip. “Oh, I hope I’m not missing out on any crazy stories. Need someone to help filter through the nonsense?” 

The girls exchanged a look, and I could feel the tension palpably shift. Just like that, I stepped into the spotlight—but this time, I wasn't leaving it vacant.

As the strobe lights flickered like fireflies caught in a jar, I felt the energy in the air shift. The laughter of the trio of girls dulled, replaced by a charged silence that hung between them. I stood shoulder to shoulder with Droid, my heart pounding, not just from the music, but from the surge of confidence coursing through me.

The blonde girl, who had been the most animated of the group, arched an eyebrow, her smile faltering for a moment. “Oh, we were just having a little fun,” she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent that hinted at challenge.

“Fun’s good,” I replied, her voice steady and laced with playful defiance. “But I think Droid’s got the best stories. Right, handsome?”

Droid turned to me, his expression softening, and I could see the flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “Yeah, you know it,” he said, a grin breaking free as he leaned closer to I, his body language shifting to indicate that I was his priority. 

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. The girls were evaluating the situation, their playful banter fading as they processed the unspoken challenge I had thrown into the mix. “So what’s the wildest thing you’ve seen tonight?” I prompted, my tone teasing as I addressed the girls, confident in my role as the center of Droid’s universe.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. People dancing on tables, a few questionable outfits,” one of the girls chimed in, her tone shifting to a more inclusive one. “But I think the best part is when someone tries to ride the bull over there.” She gestured toward a group of people erupting in laughter as someone dramatically fell to the floor, arms flailing.

I laughed, the tension between them beginning to dissipate. “Now that sounds like something we need to get on. Don’t you think, Droid?” She turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Absolutely!” Droid replied, his enthusiasm infectious. “I’m always down for something new.”

“Count me in!” I said, feeling a surge of exhilaration as I extended my hand to Droid. He took it without hesitation, and together we moved toward the dance floor, the pulsating bass thudding in time with their racing hearts.

The girls trailed behind, their earlier bravado diminished as I and Droid lined up for the fake bull riding. The club was doing a special, where before you “start” riding the bull you can take 1 or 2 shots of liquor being poured into your mouth by one of the bartenders. We walked right up where we could put our names, Droid wrote his name down first but I was distracted with the gorgeous bartender in front of me.

“Hey-um- oh- Lisa, I have a weird request, I used to be a bartender. Is there any way I could pour his shot or two in his mouth? I will even pay extra if needed.” I questioned with persuasiveness, since I had my confidence up might as well do stupid shit.

“Ooo, let me ask my manager, Ronnie, real quick. Be right back, love.” Lisa states walking to the bar calling out to Ronnie. 

I turned on my heel looking for the guys, who were all gathered up on the left side of the fence of the bull keeping drunk people out. I strutted my way up to my group of the guys, Pezzy turned his head over his shoulder to look at me. The confusion on his face quickly turned into a devious smirk, he wink at me. Pezzy opened his arm to me, I quickly fell into place under his arm. 

“What did you ask, little demon?” Pezzy entertained my plan

“I can possibly give the droid a shot, once he gets on the bull,” I got on my tippy-toes to whisper in his ear, wanting to make sure he heard me over the music.

“Hey, now don't leave me out. What's going on?” Puffer sauntered over to us seeing us scheming together.

“I MIGHT be able to give Droid his shot before he rides the bull.” I explained to Puffer, typing my glass towards Grizzy and Droid deep in their own conversation. 

“Oh- There you are, love.” I heard someone say behind me, I let go of Pezzy and spun on my heels. I saw Lisa with a guy. Hopefully it's Ronnie with good/fun news.

“Hi, I’m Ronnie, the manager. I heard you are wanting to give a guy a shot before he gets on the bull, is that right?” He contemplated the plan, his tone giving it away. 

“Yes, I’m ____. I used to be a bartender for 4 years, I believe 5 years ago.” I greeted Ronnie, trying to persuade him into letting me do it. 

“Okay, good. Yeah, I’m down letting you do it, just know no heels on the inflatable or on the bull.” Ronnie informed me while pointing to my shoes.

“Ah, completely understandable, sir. Is it okay if I take my heels off and do it barefoot?” I try to compromise with him. 

“Sounds good to me, Lisa and Hannah are in charge of the bull at the moment so they will oversee you giving your guy the shot.” Ronnie informed me, we shook hands and he dispersed back to the bar. I giggled doing baby jumps in my heels.

“Give us like less than 5 minutes, love, and will call him next.” Lisa informed me with her left hand on my shoulder, walking away to the podium of the sign up sheet.

They get him on the bull, while explaining the rules and how to ride the bull, so you don't completely fly off the bull. As they finish explaining the rules, It looks like Hannah lets him go in a couple of circles to get him going. That's when Lisa comes over with a bottle of Tito’s with a smile and hand gestures to me, to follow her and hurry up.

“Alrighty girl, make sure to take off your heels, when you get up to bull; the head is going to be angled down, so you can hop on there with your knees. Try to use the inflatable barrier as a trampoline to bounce your way up on it. Then, you are going to stand up and push him, however you can or want to, into a laying down position and then pour the shot in his mouth. Sounds good?” Lisa talked me through the plan on how they do it here, as I was undoing my heels. I discarded them at the entrance of the padded inflatable. 

“Go get him girly.” Lisa encouraged me as I entered the zone of the bull. I turned my head over my shoulder to her and gave her a smile and wink of appreciation.

“What? ___ what are you doing?” Droid asked me with his eyebrows furrowed at me

I walked up to the bull remembering what Lisa said, I bounced my body onto the bull. Droid had his hand out to me, trying to help me up on the bull.  I landed on the bulls neck with my knees, and Droid kept both of his arms open making sure I didn't fall while I tried to stand up. I positioned my right hand on his left shoulder, so I balanced myself enough not to fall on my face. Then, I parked my right barefoot on his chest pushing him back all the way. Motioning my hand all the back on the bull. He is finally in position, relaxed with his mouth opened.

“Okayyy then __.” Droid said, making me smirk and my heart race, as if it was a jump set being played. 

I started pouring Tito’s and counting to four, while locking our eyes together; I winked at him with a sultry look. 

“OH SHIT. AW SHIT MAN!” “OOOO” “GET EM ___!” I heard the guys screaming on the top of their lungs, over the music. 

I stopped pouring the alcohol in Droid mouth, I jumped off the bull handing the bottle over to Hannah. I walked out of the landing zone, and picked my shoes up til I got away from the entrance. I walked over to Pezzy, Puffer, and Grizzy where I was ready for the onslaught of questions from them. 

“So how was being dominant for your first time?” Puffer asked right out of the blue, bluntly. I giggled and shook my head, trying to put my heels on. 

“When did you get the idea for this, __?” Grizzy asked

“Earlier today, when we were all walking to the bar, Pezzy informed me of it.” I told them shrugging my shoulders.  I looked round through my hair as I was hunched over tying my right heel up, I was watching Droid walk up the group. He was on a mission to get his hands on me, I can tell. 

“My lady, let me help you. You are looking like Cinderella, with your missing heel.” Droid jokes around with me, he walked up to me and kneeled down on his right knee. 

He picks up my left heel, separating the laces not getting them tangled up even more which was even more impressive. He then clasped his hand around my left ankle to lift my foot up to his knee where my heel(shoe) was resting. My foot was in the heel, as he was perfectly criss crossing the laces in an even manner, mirroring my right foot.

“Well Droid, look at you taking care of our own little Cinderella.”Grizzy jokes around, making the guys laugh and me hiding my face turn red. 

“Let me steal ___ for a minute.” Droid said, putting my foot back down on the ground. He stood up,  outstretching his hand for me to take. 

He led us out the dance floor while the music was playing, he took the lead of the dance. Our chemistry is undeniable. The strobe lights illuminated their movements, casting us in shades of electric blue and hot pink, as laughter and music swirled around us.

As the dance took off, it was a playful chaos of flailing limbs and exaggerated moves. The crowd cheered, and I found myself lost in the moment, the earlier insecurities fading into the backdrop of the vibrant nightclub. I stole glances at Droid, who was in his element, and I felt a warmth blooming in my chest.

As the music swelled and the crowd erupted in cheers, I caught Droid’s eye. We exchanged a look, one that said more than words ever could. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that we were in this together, and that nothing could shake the foundation we are going to build together. 

The night wore on, the bass thumping like a heartbeat, and for the first time, I felt truly free, dancing not just to the music, but to the rhythm of my own confidence.

[michaelsfavgirl]

I fallow you on tik tok and you used to make those MJ NSFW headcanons and in one of them you mentioned what he does with Y/N's panties (stroking his dick with them or pulling them up to his nose to smell them I think). I was wondering if you could make a fan fiction about that. If yes thank you sooo much!<33

panty stealer

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: smut, masturbation, pervy!michael

Word Count: 835

Author’s Note: ngl i liked writing for pervy!mike a little too much

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Michael knows it’s perverted, he knows he shouldn’t, is well aware that it's a breach of privacy, yet he can't seem to resist the urge. It's a guilty pleasure that he indulges in. Rationalizations flit through his mind like ghosts in the dark, trying to justify his actions. But deep down, he knows that no excuse makes it right. 

He'd never dare to admit it aloud, not even to himself, but there's something undeniably alluring about the act that he can't ignore. His thick cock aches and hardens instantly at the mere thought of wrapping your delicate panties around his weeping length, stroking himself while inhaling your addictive scent. or pulling it up close to his face, feeling the fabric against his skin, inhaling your intoxicating scent while trying to shoo away the thoughts of what you may think of him if you ever find out. 

Would you be repulsed, would you shame him about the taboo nature of his actions or would you revel in the knowledge that he yearns for you so desperately, even resorting to such extreme measures? He can't help but wonder, his mind plagued by doubts and uncertainties.

He fantasizes about you encouraging him by leaving your panties on the bathroom counter "by accident" He knows you're not as innocent and demure as you present yourself to be. He remembers the countless times he's caught you staring at him with eyes that held more than just desire—there was a hunger that mirrored his own.

And now that Michael’s alone in his hotel room late at night, kilometers away from his precious girl, he can't resist the temptation that gnaws at him, urging him to give in to his darkest desires. The temptation becomes too much to bear. The longing for your touch, your scent, your presence overwhelms him.

Can you really blame him though? He knew he wouldn't be able to see you for months and the heated phone calls between you from the last tour were already repetitive and stale by the end. This time he needed something more, so stealing a few pairs of your panties seemed like the least he could do to satiate his yearning for you. 

He shifts restlessly on the bed, the anticipation coursing through him like wildfire as he wraps his hand around his leaking cock. His breath hitches in his throat as his thumb swipes over his sensitive tip, his precum glistening in the dimly lit room. His eyes flutter shut from the electrifying contact, a primal need urging him on. He tries desperately to drag it out, to savor every moment, but his patience has already worn thin.

With a low growl of frustration, he presses one of his favorite panties of yours to his face and inhales deeply, almost greedily. A guttural moan escapes him at the intoxicating scent. Fueled by the familiar aroma of your essence, he picks up his pace, fisting his shaft with urgent fervor, using the copious amount of precum as lube. Breathless pants spill from his parted lips as he envisions you on top of him, bouncing on his fat cock like a good girl.

His tongue darts out hungrily, dampening the fabric of your panties right at the center, lapping up the remnants of your arousal with desperation. Michael savors every taste. Of course it's not the same as burying his face between your warm thighs but for now this will have to suffice.

His moans, muffled by the fabric, fill the room as he feels his heavy balls tighten embarrassingly quickly, as if he is a hormonal teenager. The veins in his right arm bulge prominently as he pumps himself at a fast pace, his hand starting to ache from the intensity of his grip.

With a little reluctance, he releases the panties from his lips, his shaky hands wrapping them around his girthy cock. The fabric rubs against his sensitive tip, sending jolts of pleasure through him as his head tilts back in ecstasy. Beads of sweat glisten on his toned body, his curls stick to his forehead in the heat of the moment.

Unable to hold himself back his free hand claws at the sheets as he lets the forbidden thrill consume him. Michael’s orgasm is explosive, chants of your name leave his lips. He forces his eyes to open and watch as he releases rope after rope of his thick, creamy seed into your panties, staining them with his potent essence. His chest heaves with exertion as the last droplets of cum drip from his spent tip, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

With a languid movement, he pulls back his sweaty curls from his forehead, his gaze fixated on the ceiling as he catches his breath. Lazily, he slips your panties off the bed and onto the floor, pulling up the sheets to cover his bottom half before succumbing to the blissful embrace of sleep, knowing that tomorrow he'll wake up and do it all over again.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Lot of Boning [Asgard!Loki Oneshot]

A Link to My Masterlist is HERE Summary: Asgard!Loki loses bet and must wear a corset on a night out. Loki is very pleased about this. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki/corsets. Smuttish. Language. Heavy petting. Spoiled, flirty prince behaviour. Stupid stuff. Ridiculous HC lore. Asgardian crones. A/N: That tik tok wouldn't leave my brain. Sorry folks.

“A-HA, brother...you have been bested most thoroughly!” Thor’s voice boomed around the pillars, spilling over the balcony. Loki raised an eyebrow, stiffening and clenching his fists while a smile threatened to betray him.

“Indeed, brother” he purred bitterly, making sure he sounded surprised. "How awful."

In the training courtyard below, Sif held Volstagg pinned to the ground, her sword inescapably pointed to his throat. “It seems I underestimated her.” “And what of the bet, then?” Fandral coo-d, his face emerging between the brothers shoulders. Loki shot a questioning glance at the thin fingers now curled around his triceps, before looking to their owner. “I shall adhere to the stakes agreed. Obviously.”

Thor clapped Fandral on the back, chuckling loudly and shaking his head.

“Brother no one expects you to parade the Asgardian night taverns wearing a corset. Norns, Fandral was only joking. Weren’t you, Fandral?” Fandral smirked, reaching for his goblet. He tipped it briefly towards them both, before sipping.

Loki studied the man’s face, watching a tinge of pink creeping up his neck. He tilted his head.

“I very much think he was not joking, brother” Loki said calmly, seeing Thor’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye. “But never let it be said that a son of Odin reneges on his wagers.” “Loki you can’t be ser-” Loki held up a hand, eyes closed towards his brother’s protestations. “But your reputation...the scrolls of gossip which will circulate. Father." Thor's eyes widened. "Brother I implore yo-” “Enough,” Loki murmured malevolently, shooting Thor a silencing stare. The blonde’s lips hardened in a thin line, as the god of mischief shook dark hair back from his shoulders.

“The usual place?” he drawled, pushing himself away from the balustrade. Thor nodded reluctantly.

“Very well,” said Loki, with a feigned sigh of lament.

When he arrived to his chambers, the staff were dismissed with a wave of his hand.

All save one.

���Wait here,” he soothed as he passed her, trailing a knuckle down her bare bicep. Every goosebump he left in his wake was a promise. “I will have need of you.”

He smirked as she smoothed the front of her silken apron. Loki licked his lips at the memory of the taste of what lay beneath those skirts, already soaking for him he’d wager. That is a bet I wouldn’t intentionally lose, he mused as he threw open the ornate doors to his garment-room. Arms spread wide, he basked in the pungent smell of leather which overcame him. It was warm, and rich. Decadent, just like that chambermaid’s sweet little quim.

He clasped his hands ceremonially behind his back, pacing slowly forward. Loki enjoyed every faint rustle of his leather trousers, each measure thump of his boot on polished marble. The sound of his velvet-gloved fingers brushing together was like the flurry of a lovers skin. All these things and more, he always noticed in the moments before he disrobed. He could feel himself hardening already at the prospect of what was to come. The god smoothed his hair behind his ears and stretched in front of him, lacing his fingers. His knuckles cracked. He stretched his neck to one side, then the other; and with a parting of his digits – a secret compartment blossomed into view.

This was his very favourite selection of garments, each handmade by only the finest knobbled fingers among the Asgardian Crones.

Although responsible for all the royal families more intricate ceremonial costumery....these...they made only for him. For his cabinet of debauchery. And they were well rewarded.

He trailed the pads of his fingertips across displayed fabrics as he moved. Robes of chiffon and silk and leather which cut and hung to his body like honey, so much so that the very sight of his immortal frame wrapped in their embrace had been known to make his lover climax. Into every sinful negligee, every blindfold, every erotic ensemble, every fluttering tail in a well-worn crop; the Asgardian Crones had worked their spells.

‘Are you certain, my Prince,’ one had crooned doubtfully, craning closer to his sketch. Her fingers shook as she did so, tracing the lines of his elaborate request.

“Quite,” Loki had replied with the air of one who did not expect to be asked twice. She observed him craftily, creased skin trembling as one decrepit eyebrow rose. She’d always been a flirt.

“I’m not sure there’s time – tis a lot of boning, Prince Loki-” she hummed, coy undertones fresh even in the creak of her voice. He waved his hand dismissively with a sultry chuckle.

“The tales you could tell about boning, eyh Lagartha?” he purred wickedly. “I’ve heard the songs.” Lagertha’s wrinkled skin had flushed a pale pink as he’d leant across the large cutting table, ensuring to spread his fingers against the wood, making the veins she enjoyed in his hands flex.

She would be able to see down the loose tie of his tunic neckline, to the shifting ropes of muscle beneath. To his naval, most likely. The scent of him, the warmth, the pure essence of masculine, sexual power that flowed from his skin to her nostrils. He watched her cloudy pupils dilate.

A wolfish grin had spread his lips. “Or if you prefer...I could tell you some of mine” he’d winked.

The crone cleared her throat suddenly, hacking. “Are you alright, darling?” the Prince said with excruciating sensuality.

Lagertha hacked louder.

Two new crones had rounded the corner at an alarmingly slow pace. Loki rolled his eyes as they shuffled towards their ailing sister. Loki returned to a standing position. “I shall return next solstice to collect it,” Loki had said pointedly to Lagertha, making a show of stretching out each leather glove before pulling it on. He arched a brow.

Lagertha, close to expiration in her chair, nodded.

The other weavers shot him dirty looks as they began a lacklustre, synchronised fan of her face.

Loki had almost skipped back to his chambers that day. And now, as he rested his thumb beneath his chin in wonder at the finished article, he felt the same elation. He had waited for the perfect debut for this most treasured piece. Oh, how he had waited.

And finally, here it was.

Fandral thought to cast tarnish on his masculinity? On his virility? On his very power and reputation in this realm? Well, Loki thought with a smile as his eyes tracked every immaculate detail of the corset; he thinks wrong. His brother might be excused for being blinded to Loki’s ability to outplay any trickster-like attempts, but Fandral? Loki had given him far too much credit in the past, clearly.

To save time, Loki peeled the clothes from his body with magic. New garments unfurled around his limbs, having been drawn from the everyday closets outside. Tight dark chinos, and a thick cotton shirt; such a depth of green it was almost obsidian.

The thrill of unfamiliar Midgardian clothes on his body sent a shiver of anticipation up Loki’s spine. They were so light. Almost like being naked. If not for the tightness. His cock ached, heavy desire throbbing with renewed vigour. The demon thickened against his leg, each wince from the cotton pants making him hiss as he screwed his eyes shut in pleasure.

Migardians and their fascination with tightness, he mulled as he spun towards the flickering doorway.

“Girl?” he called expectantly. There was a pause, before the chambermaid’s brisk footsteps sounded, stopping abruptly in front of the door to the concealed portion of Loki’s closet. Her eyes were wide in wonder, gazing around until they stopped at his feet. She worked her way up his statuesque body, legs wide and triangular; arms crossed and straining against the shirt. “My P-prince,” she stammered, covering her eyes. Loki chuckled. “Come now, you don’t look this bashful when I come to you with sword in hand,” he teased as he straightened his back. She lowered her hands, revealing only her eyes. They shone. I really should move these ‘suits’ to the cabinet of debauchery, he pondered; watching the chambermaid squirm.

He suddenly wondered how she would fare on her knees, fumbling with the other-wordly zipper, biting her lip as she salivated impatiently for his cock. No time, he chided as he raised a hand, beckoning.

“I require your assistance with this,” he gestured to the side.

He didn’t. Not truly. But Loki Odinson knew how to wring every last screeching sliver of drama from a production. And after the time he had waited for this debut, he would make it drip until its last drop.

Her eyes grew wider. “Loki...” she murmured in awe, protocols forgotten.

The corset handcrafted by his loyal crones hung perfectly lit, showcased on the wall. Exquisite boning curved the sides, cutting inward at the perfect dimensions to cinch the sluttish nips of his taut waist.

The bodice was boned to perfection, thick strips of Nilfheimian narwal tusk holding shape. Golden flashes glinted at the shoulders, down the deep V of the neckline. His richest shade of royal green adorned the bodice, silken threads stitched so close it slid beneath the fingertips like polished glass.

“For what do you require my assistance, my Lord?” she murmured, letting her eyes fall wantonly to his curled lips. Loki slipped the corset from its display, swirling it elegantly over his arms and slotting it in place, much like a reverse waistcoat. “For this,” he said, spinning slowly on his heels. He raised his arms, raking his hair into a messy bun; fingers fastened to his scalp, exposing his neck.

The back of the corset splayed open. A long thread of ebony silk unfurled in Loki’s hand. One end of the ribbon poised upward from his palm like a snake, head pointed to the maid. It lunged towards her before stopping abruptly.

“Take it,” Loki smouldered, “it won’t bite.” The chambermaid’s trembling hands diligently wove the silk through the intricate holes of the corset, each pull of the length together making her groan gently against his back in spite of herself. She was taking her time, wondering at the creases of shirt beneath the boning. Wondering at him.

Loki’s eyes closed, the press of her fingertips between his shoulder-blades making fucking her over the nearest chaise greatly tempting. She pulled the binds tighter, looping strands with a final flourish. Loki hummed quietly, clenching. “I hope this is acceptable, my Prince” she murmured, trailing her fingers wilfully down the criss-cross of ribbon. Her breasts pushed flush to his spine, her words low and sultry. “I have not laced a corset since my lady Frigga’s.” “Do not speak of my mother,” Loki moaned quietly as he guided her hand to the crook of his thigh. His cock met her palm, the resulting squeeze rewarded with a buck of his hips. He spun towards her and guided her to the wall.

Her lungs emptied as he pressed to her, feeling her digits tugging gently at her handiwork. Loki could feel the boning press against her curves, the tight outline of his glamorous armour making her struggle for breath. His lips traced hers with the lightest of touches, her hot breath filling his throat. She thrust against the thigh pressed between her legs, gasping like a virgin as he nudged upwards to her sex.

“Pretty thing,” he whispered warm and wet into her ear. She whined, bucking against him. Loki released a dark chuckle. “Be here to undress me on my return.”

In Asgard’s busiest tavern, the evening’s festivities were in full swing. Thor stared into his tankard, watching thick bubbles pop lazily on the surface.

“Oh Fandral, what have we done?” he lamented, sliding a meaty palm further up his cheek. “He will be here at any moment. Reputation? Ruined.” Fandral scoffed, glancing at the door for the third time in as many minutes. “Do you think he’ll wear a garter?” announced Sif, swinging a leg over the bench with two large tankards in each fist. Volstagg spat ale in a cloud of laughter. "I bet he wears a garter," Sif continued seriously. "I hereby claim first attempt to rip it off with my teeth." "No fair," Fandral whined. “-Tis no matter of mirth,” Thor snapped loudly. Plates on the table rattled. Fandral patted his hand with a sigh. “Your brother knows us well enough. He is Asgard’s biggest tease. He will not wear ladies underthings - not in public anyway..." he paused, momentarily taken away. " I am most sure of it," he continued breezily. "Fragile masculinity, most likely.” But as he spoke, his face simmered with excitement.

Sif narrowed her eyes at him warily, realising in tandem with the others that the raucous tavern had grown quiet. The four of them spun to face the door, where a hundred other patrons also stared, transfixed.

“Brother?” Thor murmured disbelieving. But there, in all his splendour, was Loki.

The figure cut against the star-littered sky, the outline of his body as crisp and clear as carved marble. Thick curls spilled over his shoulders, fluttering in the nights chill. Long limbs strode rakishly over the paved floor, the click of his heels making onlookers jump as their arousal fizzed like malevolent static.

His cheekbones slashed, the determined set of his smoulder making him look like a king. A demon of the night.

Simply the sight of him moving across the floor made the captive audience hold its breath. The tight grip of the unfamiliar style of shirt to his muscles, the mercilessly cinched nip of his waist which exploded the breadth of his shoulders. A golden brooch in the crest of a snake was pinned to the centre of his chest, complimenting the lavish glint of the corset piping. The god of mischief's ordained colours were saturated by the auburn glow of candlelight. Loki smiled wickedly, winking at an unsuspecting woman grasping feverishly at her friend’s shoulder. He stood at the end of the table, spreading his arms wide before clasping them behind his back. “Well?” he asked smugly, giving them a slow spin. There were a series of thumps as members of the Asgardian public hit the floor. “You know midgardian garments are frowned upon,” Thor grumbled, casting glances over his shoulder. Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s about the ensemble, brother” he snipped. “Although I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

Fandral cleared his throat, standing and raising his cup towards the ceiling. “Prince Loki you look-”

“-Ravishing,” Loki drawled. “I know.” He cast a scathing glance down Fandral’s body, making his way leisurely back to his face. “Smarts, doesn’t it? To see me the victorious antithesis of your childish plot to humiliate me.” Sif snorted. “He just wanted to see you in a corset” she remarked, pushing her tankard from one hand to the other. Loki’s lips pursed, folding his arms as he spoke. “The evident stirring in his breeches betrays that much.” Fandral sat down immediately to the sound of raucous laughter round the table.

A crowd had begun to gather at a respectful distance around the dark prince, dozens of eyes combing over every deliciously wrapped inch of him. The air was bubbling with sexual energy. Hair on Loki’s arms bristled. He was just about to bestow greetings upon his inflamed public when Thor tugged his shirt sleeve.

“Brother, the gossip-scrolls will still remark on this…”

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What care have I? I look incredible brother, as you well know. Desist with your petulant jealousy.” He straightened, enjoying the wistful longing in Thor’s gaze as it swung from Loki’s cinched trunk trussed in boning to the feral, shifting stares of his lustful devotees. And tonight, that was everyone it seemed.

Loki paced around the table, settling his hands on his wary brother's shoulders. “It was supposed to be funny” Thor grumbled, shaking his head while Fandral squirmed beside him. Loki’s mouth twitched in a knowing smile as he watched the man run his palms down his thighs repeatedly. Trying to distract himself. He lowered himself, hovering between Thor and his misguided best friend.

“The wager did not include that we were to wear lace and brassiere and frill and garter. Although I do have those effects in my personal collection, too.”

He winked at Fandral, who flushed crimson.

The god of thunder folded his arms. “It’s just very...you” he whined. The envy, Loki mused, is palpable. His fingers curled around Fandral’s bicep, giving him a knowing squeeze. “Exactly, brother” Loki whispered with finality in his siblings ear. The triumphant god straightened before raising his arms. Dying embers nestling in the tavern fireplaces roared to life at the command. Tonight, he was a king. And the squeals of the crowd grew to a roar.

-

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[short-honey-badger]

That's My Husband, That's My Wife

Ya know that tik tok trend where girls are calling their boyfriend their husband and vice versa? I wanted to do that, so I did. I hope you enjoy it!

Gojo, Getou, Nanami, and Sukuna

@goth-mami-writer

Masterlist

Gojo

The two of you are on a rare date, Saturo finally finding the time to escape his duties as a jujitsu sorcerer. You are dressed to the nines, out of your stuffy work clothes, and are having an amazing time swaying to the beat of the music that blasts in the bar. Sato had left to get you a drink, but he was taking an awfully long time.

You breathe a heavy sigh with a fond eye roll. You shouldn’t be surprised. Gojo was easy to distract when something caught his eye. As you move through the crowds to the bar, you look ahead of you and spot your boyfriend and the reason why he’d been taking so long.

There is a woman trying to press into his space, and you can spot the strained smile on his handsome face, your boyfriend is trying to be polite to the drunken woman, but you can see his patience wearing thin. You huff and march over, plucking the drink from his hand and sliding an arm around his slim waist.

The smile you give the other woman is not a nice one.

“My husband isn’t bothering you, is he?”

You feel Gojo freeze beside you, and then both of those long arms are wrapping around your waist, and he hooks his chin over your shoulder, a big cheesy grin stretching his lips.

“Don’t be so jealous, wifey. She was just leaving.”

Getou

The dark-haired man sighs quietly when he notices your put-out expression when another bumbling human comes walking up the steps for his “cure”. He had noticed your less-than-enthused attitude earlier in the morning but had not made mention of it. Suguru knew that you would talk to him when you got over whatever was going on in that pretty head of yours. He just wished that there was something he could do to cheer you up.

Getou hardly listens to the inane drivel that spills from the man in front of him. He can see the curse that wraps around the man like a haze, ghastly in appearance with bulging pustules that look like they may burst at any second. Suguru kills it with little more than a flick of his fingers, the curse nothing of interest to him. No, his focus fell on his despondent girlfriend, who had hardly looked at him at all today.

The man is thanking him, but Getou pays him no mind. Instead, he lopes over to where you lounge in a nearby chair, reaching down to take your hand. He then turns and gives the man a sickening sweet, fake smile, but his tone is meant for you.

“You are welcome. However, if you would excuse me, my dear wife needs my attention.”

Suguru looks back down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips when he spots the pink adorning your cheeks. Your tone is cheeky when you speak up, and Getou thinks this is much better than the melancholy from earlier.

“That she does, husband.”

Nanami

You can’t believe that he is this late. You understand that Kento works a dangerous job, but it wasn’t like him to be late for one of your dates. Your boyfriend was all about getting off work on time so that he could have time for himself and his personal life. You sigh heavily, poke at your cooling appetizer, and then sit back to sip at the bubbly champagne you’d ordered after the first ten minutes passed. Another twenty had passed since.

The waiter gives you a smile full of pity and silently sets down a dessert in front of you, quietly assuring you that it is on the house. You thank him with a nod and take up your spoon. Free dessert should not be wasted.

You are about halfway through when there is a commotion at the front of the restaurant, and you look up to see Nanami striding to your table, an anxious look decorating his sharp features. He slides into the seat across from you, scooting himself forward and ignoring the dirty look that the waiter sends him.

“I’m sorry, darling. Work had me go into overtime.”

You wave off his apology, simply happy that Kento had made it, even if he was late. Food is soon ordered, and more champagne is finished off. You are too busy with your meal to see Kento quietly speaking to the waiter and the sly grin he gives Nanami.

When another glass is delivered, your eyes land on the ring that sits at the bottom of it. You cut your eyes up to Kento, and he gives you a smile so full of love and affection that you feel your heart burst.

“I know it may be in poor form, being late, but would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

You grin and unabashedly dig into the champagne to pull the ring out, drying it off and handing it to Kento so that he can slide it on your ring finger.

“I could get used to calling you husband.”

Sukuna (Club Owner AU)

It isn’t often that Sukuna goes out on the main floor, but for some reason, he felt compelled to do so this evening. Maybe it was because you were on the main stage tonight, and he was greedy enough that he didn’t like missing your shows. There was just something about watching his customers fall all over themselves while his girlfriend danced on stage. You belonged to him, and it amused him to see those beneath him yearn for something they would never have.

Sukuna sits near the back, shadowed in the corner as he sips from his glass of scotch, his red eyes never leaving the way you glide across the stage, the way your body hugs the pole, suggestive and perfect. You happen to look up and catch his eyes, sending your boyfriend a saucy wink before spinning around and dipping, giving him a glorious view of your backside.

The night continues, but with the late night, the more inebriated the customers become. Sukuna hears a shout come from the stage, and he whips around from where he sits at the bar, vision zeroing in on the burly man who has risen from his chair and grabbed you around the ankle.

“Come on, girly. You and me, yeah? How about we get outta this dump? I’ll pay you real good.”

Sukuna sees red, and he is moving before he has a chance to think. It was one thing to drag on his establishment, but no one could ever think that you could be bought. You were more than any regular employee. You were his.

Ryomen grabs the guy by the shoulder, spinning him around and socking him in the face. Blood spurts from his nose, and the man cries out in pain, then turns to glare at Sukuna and snarls.

“Who the hell are you?”

Sukuna grins, all sharp teeth and vicious as he leans forward, speaking loud enough that you and the surrounding group hear him.

“Me? I’m her fucking husband. Now get the fuck out of my club.”