#one mo time i swear

[seekingwriting]

don't wanna flood my main writing blog ( @aspenwriting ) with this buuut !! looking for someone to play anthony bridgerton or a period oc with jonathan bailey as the faceclaim !! my current fixation, lol. either on here or discord. willing to double, because i actually enjoy it. so i'll portray any faceclaim ( with the exception of underage and deceased. ) on any plot. smut is optional, but somewhat preferred cus i love some chaotic sexual tension and spicyness. below you can find my oc's info + plot soo!! pls let me know. i write semi - lit, little to no triggers, and v active! message me here for my discord !!

dodie jane weston is a twenty and six year old woman, who was born and raised in london, until the age of sixteen, when her family decided to relocate to vienna, austria, in order to help care for her maternal grandfather, who had fallen ill. before her tragic move, the weston family was quite close to the bridgertons, their mothers being childhood friends and gleefully allowed their children to play with one another, despite the eldest bridgerton child being two and a half years her senior. dodie was close with the second eldest, benedict, the two bonding over their shared love for the arts, though, dodie preferred to read. she also got along well with daphne, who looked up to her quite often, and dodie adored her as if she was her own sister. as for anthony, well ... at the age of thirteen is when dodie realized she had feelings for the boy, at least, that's when she was able to recognize such crush. the two had always had such underlying relations beneath their friendship, everyone could see it, including benedict and colin who would tease anthony, all while young eloise would playfully joke about the two becoming wedded when they reach of age. and maybe that would have been true, if certain events had never happened.

when dodie's family relocated, it was hard on her, saying goodbye to her second family, saying goodbye to anthony. but, she was at ease knowing she'll write with them and possibly visit in the future. sadly, the letters between her and her childhood crush would halt after seven letters. she remembers her own becoming unanswered, from all of the bridgertons, until a fortnight passed and her parents informed her that edmund bridgerton had died. when the news broke, dodie wrote until her hand was numb, writing letters to each family member, and two towards anthony, telling him that she was deeply sorry for his lost, and to please let her know he was okay. each member that was capable of writing wrote back, all besides anthony. in fact, he never sent her another letter again, much to dodie's heartbreak.

the weston family resided in vienna for a decade, even after her grandfathers passing, her parents decided to settle there to keep her grandmother company. what brought them back to london, was their fortune decaying. for years, did the assure dodie she could marry whomever she wanted, whomever she loved, but when she sees her family's financial struggle, she decides marrying for duty was far more important, despite her initial belief that marriage was sacred. cue the weston's moving back during the social season, in hopes to find their only daughter a groom. being back in her hometown was wonderful - what wasn't, was having to face anthony bridgerton after he left her in the dust all these years.

dodie is a doe eyed woman portrayed by rose williams. as for her personality, she's a very intelligent book worm, who has a kind heart, but could be as fierce as many if needed to be. though easily flustered, she isn't afraid to make a move and call out anyone on their bullshit, and sometimes, she should probably bite her tongue, but it's hard to do when you're strong willed, and even more so, stubborn. here you can find her pinterest board.

[motianz]

Touches and moments initiated by Mo

Inspired by this lovely post from @teanshan (ty so much for the idea hehe)

[piyo13sdoodles]

surprise art for the @mdzsbigbang and specifically @unseelieash! from chapter 7 of the amazing fic, Waves Return to the Shore, which you can read now on ao3!!! (you can also see the other piece of art i did over here!). seriously though the conversation in chapter 7 has me tearing up a bit every time i've read it, it's so good ;n; thank you ash for such a lovely fic!!

[gentil-minou]

Xiantober Day 10 - Fanartist!Xian

WlW Wangxian Week Day 2 - Queen for a Day @wlwangxianweek

NSFW (masturbation, body worship, thirsting over your own art)

--

The email sat in her inbox untouched for days, heavy and daunting, the sender's address highlighted and glaring at her. It arrested her breath every time her cursor hovered over the unopened message.

Wei Ying has been creating fanart for years, and recently her clay sculptures have achieved widespread recognition for their level of detail and stunning paintwork. It's not uncommon for her to get emails asking to commission her.

But not all of those emails are sent from famed cosplayer Hanguang-jun's official email address, titled "Commission Request" in bold unassuming font that might as well be plastered on a neon sign for the way Wei Ying can't look away at all.

Hanguang-jun wants to commission Wei Ying for a tabletop sculpture to scale of her latest elven cosplay. She's willing to pay generously for Wei Ying's time and labor, well above her usual rates. She has a small list of specifications and offers to meet one on one for measurements.

How can Wei Ying explaing to HGJ, the queen of cosplay herself, that she doesn't actually need her measurements because she's spent the last few years memorizing her body by sight in all the the thousands of elegant cosplay photos HGJ posts on a weekly basis.

What would HGJ think if she knew the entire reason Wei Ying is lauded as one of the premier up and coming sculptors of her generation is because she's spent years honing her craft for the express purpose of being able to perfectly capture the essence of HGJ in inanimate form?

How did HGJ find her anyway?

Okay, actually, that's a dumb question. When Wei Ying started sculpting a year ago one of her first videos was a time lapse on tiktok with a clay model of a HGJ cosplay of a xianxia character.

And admittedly, Wei Ying did spend the entire video thirsting over HGJ while in her small studio surrounded by her fanart of HGJ and okay yeah so that video has several million views and quite a few cheeky comments tagging the queen herself…

So okay, it makes sense how HGJ found her, but it still doesn't explain WHY she chose to commission Wei Ying directly.

Like, here's the thing. Wei Ying knows she's good. She's super good. She didn't get to quit her boring day job for no reason, and she's spent practically all her life getting this good, she's not gonna pretend to be humble.

But HGJ never commissions people. She doesn't even reshare fanart or even respond to fan's comments. Her photos and videos are cinematic and expertly shot, but she doesn't do lives or anything like that where she talks to fans. Wei Ying has never been to a convention to see her personally, but with her expert internet sleuthing skills she knows that when HGJ does meet and greets, only ever for charity or some good cause, she doesn't do more than nod politely before posing with them.

So why would she all of a sudden reach out to Wei Ying and go against all of that?

But it doesn't matter why…because Wei Ying just responded to her email and took up the offer to meet Hanguang-jun to talk about her commission.

She's going to meet HGJ…in the flesh…outside of costume.

Wei Ying looks arond at her walls, plastered in artwork and photos of HGJ in all her glory. She stares at the smattering of sculptures she has displayed in a place of honor. At the life-sized cardboard cutout she got of HGJ cosplaying as Shego a couple years back, glaring menacingly in a way that makes her spine tingle...

Wei Ying is going to have to clean up her studio before she meets with HGJ…

What is she getting herself into?

--

Wei Ying likes to make prototypes before she meets with any client. It's not really a courtesy so much as a necessary requirement. A sculpture is way more taxing on her resources after all. She needs to make sure her client likes it before she gets started on the real deal.

She might be…spending more time on the prototype for Hanguang-jun than she has for anyone else…especially considering she's sculpted her enough she knows its good but, well…

She almost can't help it. Whenever she makes art of HGJ, it's like she's under a spell and can't resist. It's mesmerizing, watching the block of clay taking form and shape, transforming into a temptress that leaves Wei Ying glued to her desk until she finishing the final touches and sits back to admire her work.

Wei Ying used to exclusively make fanart of fictional characters. She mostly liked donghua and manhua, and rarely ever caared for things that were live-action or realistic. It took away the fun, she'd always thought. She lives in the real world so why would she care about something like that in her work?

Then, she saw Hanguang-jun cosplay her favorite character from her favorite novel. It was all over from there.

It wasn't even one of HGJ's more scandalous cosplays that showed off her ample cleavage or milky white thighs. She was completely covered up, wearing an intricate set of robes that must have been embroidered by hand with long black hair too silken to be a wig styled up in a top knot.

The costume was stunning, but it was HGJ's expression that ensnared Wei Ying. Fiercely intense, and a gravity that made the character come alive.

For a moment, Wei Ying forgot she was looking at a fanmade cosplay. For a moment, it was like the character she'd admired so much had come to life right on her computer screen, all elegant lines and secret curves. Her hand had reached into her shorts of its own accord…bewitched.

And so followed a mad scramble to get as much content about HGJ as she possible could, imbibing every last ounce until Wei Ying felt like she knew everything she could about HGJ.

Despite being notortiously private about her personal life. HGJ regularly shares bts about her costume work and and what goes into creating cosplay. There was a panel she'd done for a con where she explained how she'd sewn every costume painstakingly by hand, and how long each costume took.

That more than anything, pulled Wei Ying deep into HGJ's orbit.

She'll never forget listening to that video, the soft cadence of HGJ's delicate voice, so seldom heard when she plays so many silent and serious characters, as HGJ spoke about her love for her craft. Wei Ying was lost to the moment, to the wonderful sensation of someone knowing exactly why one would spend hours and days on creating something. The pure love for her craft, shining in the golden contacts HGJ wore, the stage lights giving them a twinkle that seemed to come from within.

That's when Wei Ying realized her crush on HGJ was more than that.

But until this moment, she didn't have to worry about it. Wei Ying was perfectly content making artwork from a afar, ever getting any closer. A fan and her muse, the simplest pairing there was.

Except now Hanguang-jun is coming to her studio. For a private meeting. Today.

Needless to say, Wei Ying is feeling woefully unprepared. She'd at least had the wherewithal to hide her more salacious fanart away. HGJ does not need to know how often Wei Ying has imagined and tried to paint her breasts…that would be a bit too far.

Her studio as ready as it is ever going to be, all she needs now is to finish the prototype.

It's a crude model, really. Meant mostly to test the pose HGJ requested. It's not even painted, though Wei Ying did spend more time on it than she has for anyone else.

The clay is still wet to the touch, as the model sits on her workbench and she trails a careful finger down the side of HGJ's face. Her eyes are still hollow and blank, but the shape is correct, the lines meeting at the corners to taper off underneath arched brows she's etched in.

HGJ's high cheekbones were carved at an angle over a mouth with a tiny smile, barely there. The reference photo Wei Ying had used for HGJ's expression wasn't from the official photo shoot, but a bts video on HGJ's brother's feed (also public, and filled with so much delicious content). HGJ wasn't even looking at the camera. She'd been holding her pet bunny in her lap, smiling so sweetly down at it, the corners of her mouth just barely lifting up and the softness of her eyes breathtaking. Wei Ying had felt like she'd been suspended in midair with the force of that little smile.

She'd fully intended to use one of the more serious expressions from the photoshoot, but when the time came it's like her hands had a mind of their own. It was instinct and the image of that sweet smile that guided her as she etched in the lines of the model's face.

Once it was done, there was no way she could smudge it away. And so the small smile stays. Wei Ying's hand trails over to the slope of HGJ's nose, and she giggles as she gives the figure a gentle boop. The clay sculpture is pretty large, about the size of her torso (also not the standard. usually these reference models are smaller than the sized asked for. But well...if Wei Ying has to give the final sculpture to HGJ maybe she can keep this prototype for her collection...) but that doesn't mean she's willing to risk damaging it when it's still so fragile. She'd be devastated if something happened to HGJ, in whatever form she's in.

Her finger slides down over plump lips that Wei Ying has spent many lines drawing over and over again, sketches of that mouth in every expression, closed and pursed into a frown, even open and waiting… She has the lines of HGJ's lips practically memorized. Can imagine how they'd feel when she traces over her own.

She does that now, the fingers of her right hand tracing over her own lips as the pad of her left index finger trails back and forth over the model's lips. Chapped against glossed. Plush pink. How would HGJ's look free of lipstick, smudged and wiped away at the edges onto someone else. Lips bitten red.

Wei Ying's breath hitches and she pulls her lips into her mouth to bite down on. Her right hand falls into her lap.

She lets the tip of her finger trail to HGJ's pointed chin, then curves it down as if Wei Ying is lifting it up to draw her towards her. That would be ludicrous, to kiss a statue…except….

Wei Ying had taken care to carve HGJ's elegant veins that jut out from her neck, and follows them down her slender throat and over her collarbone, to where the shape of HGJ's breast sit, exposed to the frigid way that would surely harden her nipples into soft rosebuds if they were real.

Wei Ying has spent many nights staring at the ceiling of her room, idly tracing figure 8s around and around her small chest as she ruminates on HGJ's full breasts, the way they effortlessly lift and nearly slip out of her costumes, though the never actually do.

How they must be twice the size of Wei Ying's own, leaving her to lift her own and wonder how heavy HGJ's must be. Imagine the weight of them in her palms, how they'd look when she squeezes. The sounds HGJ would make, her quiet gasps echoing in the silence of the room. The way those honey brown eyes, her real ones, not the fake contacts she uses for her cosplay, would be fixed on Wei Ying's, long lashes fluttering as she leans forward to give Wei Ying a better angle.

The heat inside Wei Ying flares up, and she lets her hands pull her shorts away so she can lip her hand inside, trialing over coarse curls until she reaches the place that's hottest within her. Not for the first time, she wonders what it would feel like to touch HGJ in this place. Would it feel the same as it does when Wei Ying touches herself? Would it feel like something else entirely?

She draws circles around her lower lips with the fingers of her right hand as her left index finger trails down the center of HGJ's chest, over the valley between her breasts.

Perhaps she should have sculpted the mounds of her breasts closer together so they'd create the cleavage HGJ is known for. But like earlier, when she'd felt out of control with the need to carve her smile, Wei Ying had wanted to let HGJ voluptuous breasts hang free and apart, natural the way she always imagines her.

Besides, it would fit with HGJ's request to create a sculpture of her recent cosplay of Galadriel.

Wei Ying had just about lost her mind when she'd seen the gauzy fabric of HGJ's dress, how it left only the most intimate parts of her to the imagination as the sheer dress draped over the curves of her body. How she could so clearly see the outline of her full breasts, with no bra restraining them only a simple fabric to tastefully cover her nipples. Beneath her chest, the dip in her slender waist flared out into wide hips. The curve of her thighs, with a wide slit in the dress that revealed the tiniest tantalizing peek of pale skin…

The pale blue, nearly see through fabric had been both too little and too much. Wei Ying had felt like she needed to look away. She'd also felt like she never wanted to stare at anything else ever again.

Remaking the exact gauzy lines in a clay sculpture will be a fun challenge. She can already see the way she can carve the lines so the creases of HGJ's dress show it's there while the rest of the fabric clings to her shape and form, a glimpse of something that shouldn't be seen. That Wei Ying sculpts herself, a shrine to a goddess.

The thought makes Wei Ying gasp, as she dips one finger inside her, slipping through her drenched folds with ease.

The heat is jarring, almost burning where it stokes a fire deep within her core, spreading outward, consuming everything in its wake.

In contrast, HGJ's clay figure is nearly ice cold against her heated skin. But as her finger rest against the figure, it turns warm, as if a heart truly beats beneath that clay chest.

Would it be the same if she was trailing her fingers across the real HGJ's chest? With a frozen exterior melt into warmth? Would a pink stretch across her torso, matching the lips she bites down? Would her heart beat just as fast as Wei Ying's?

Wei Ying rocks against her finger, but one just isn't enough. She adds another, strokes herself with intent even as her eyes flutter closed as her other hand slides down to the contours of HGJ's flat stomach, then to the v that points towards a place Wei Ying can only imagine in her wildest dreams.

If she doesn't pay attention, she can almost imagine her left hand is touching something else, something alive and real.

She whimpers, feeling the fire burn bright and hot and all encompassing. She wants to throw her head back, let her gasps echo off the ceiling. She wants to recline in her chair, give herself completely over to her pleasure. But how can she, when that would mean she can no longer touch HGJ, even this mere imitation of her?

At the thought, she opens her eyes again, gasping as she struggles to keep them from shutting, as she shudders from her approaching climax, curling those fingers and rubbing at her clit, faster and faster.

HGJ's model is haloed in a yellow spotlight from her desklight, drawing the eye and entrapping it.

It's not the real deal, but if Wei Ying squints her eyes she can pretend the burnished red figure is Hanguang-jun, blurry but real. Here, in front of her, panting breaths a match to hers.

She can almost see it, hear the intake of breath as HGJ watches her. What would HGJ think id she saw her? What would she do if Wei Ying called out for her? If she begged for her aid?

Would she hang back and watch? Would she be mortified? Intrigued?

Would she…would she dare approach? Would she stand over Wei Ying as she lies back in her chair? Would she draw her hand down the side of Wei Ying's face, past her chin and her neck, following the path Wei Ying traveled along her clay figure? Would she let her hand pass through the valley between Wei Ying's smaller breasts, fingers feather light, down, down over her stomach to join where Wei Ying's fingers slide in and out, pumping rhythmically as she chases her release.

Would she slip inside as well, bending over her, only touching that one most intimate place, Would she watch Wei Ying, those honey-brown filled with a new sort of intensity, something she's never worn for any of her cosplays. A vision just for Wei Ying.

Would she smile at her?

Wei Ying's orgasm crests and flares over her, all at once, rocking through her as the fire burns and burns and burns. She cries HGJ's name into the ceiling, caught in a wanton moan that goes on forever, obscenely so, until all that's left are Wei Ying's panting breaths.

When she returns to her body, feeling lightheaded, she registers the sticky wet sensation of her right hand as she pulls it out of her pants, feeling hollow inside. The tiny studio smells of sex as sweat beads down her back,

At some point during her climax she must have knocked over HGJ's figurine to where lies forlornly on its side.

"Shit," she whispers, checking over it with her clean hand and setting it down securely in its base. Thankfully it is undamaged, and she moves on to look for something to clean herself with.

It's not the first time she's done this here. She really should be more prepared for this sort of thing.

She cleans her hand as best as she can with her water bottle and hand sanitizer, wiping the rest away on her shorts. There's no mirror in this room but she's got enough time she can probably go to the bathroom and fix herself up, maybe air out the room before Hanguang-jun arrives—

There's a knock, quiet and polite, unintrusive, on the door to her studio, and Wei Ying jerks her head up in shock.

It's too early, she's supposed to have another ten minutes at least… it can't be.

The knock goes off again, this time louder and more firm. Wei Ying yelps, before covering her mouth with her hands. But it's too late.

Someone calls from the other side, "Is this the Yiling Matriarch's studio?"

It is. Fuck. Wei Ying is shaking, but she can't put this off any longer.

She opens the door.

TBC

(threadfic here)

[12am-motivation]

I AM VERY EMOTIONAL

*spoilers for Solomon's '22 Birthday Event story below*

It's been a long day but I finally managed to finish the keyed route of Sol's birthday event! I'm literally crying as I make this post oml—

I'm having massive mood swings rn so they're intensifying my emotions but yes!! The concept of family is so dear to Sol and oh my god I couldn't help tearing up when he said that he hopes we could be a family someday, especially considering how he didn't expect us to offer to help him and mentioning that he usually works alone, not to mention how he tends to act on autopilot and neglects his health as he immerses himself in his research

I have many, many, MANY THOUGHTS about this story and I can't wait to talk about them but that may have to wait since I still have some schoolwork to do so I might just write them down somewhere in the meantime if I can (I hope I don't forget them!)

Even though the event was released two days later, this is one of the best birthday presents ever for this year

So please feel free to spam my inbox with Solomon brainrot!! We'll be getting a break from schoolwork very soon and I hope to answer each ask that's been gathering dust in my queue and inbox by then

[grassbreads]

Finished volume 1 of Sha Po Lang, and my one comment (aside from all my many previous comments) is that I think Chang Geng and Luo Binghe should unionize

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[evie-sturns]

geronimo - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: after matt suprises you and your daughter with an at-home petting zoo, your toddler has quite a hard time saying bye to geronimo the hedgehog.

contains: girl dad!matt, fluff, crying, tantrums, swearing.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"mama! look at germ-noni-mo!" layla squeals as she gently picks up the small hedgehog, a wide smile spread across her face.

she crouches down on the floor, clutching the hedgehog in her hands as matt sits on the couch.

"matt- you literally have to stop these suprises." i giggle, staring at the array of farm animals in my living room.

"god he does this all the time." nick laughs, crouching down beside a pig.

"look- laylas loving it though." matt smirks as layla trots over to the couch with geronimo clutched in her tiny hands.

"is she spiky?" i ask layla with an exaggerated gasp,

layla shakes her head, "no! he- he's just- i dont know" she smiles, bouncing up and down excitably.

"chris- that guinea pig is about to crawl up your shirt- be careful." matt giggles,

chris hands the guinea pig back to the keeper with a small laugh.

the petting zoo keeper starts to put the various farm animals back in the cage, securing them tightly and placing them in the line.

"layla, i think geronimo needs to go back to the petting zoo now!" i say softly, a large grin on my face as i try to sound as excited as i can, knowing that laylas already attatched to the hedgehog.

her face instantly drops, she holds the animal to her chest with a pout.

the zoo keeper stands beside layla, "im sorry sweetie! just gonna have to grab him from you." she says softly,

layla shakes her head with a whine, "but- no!"

"come on layla." i whisper, gently removing the hedgehog from her hands and handing it to the keeper.

i look over at nick, whos watching the whole situation unfold with a small grimace, chris stands beside him as layla continues to whine.

the zoo keeper genty puts geronimo back in his cage before packing up, ready to leave.

"but- mama- daddy no!" layla squeals, folding her arms as her eyes well up with tears.

"shhh, inside voice please sweetheart." matt instantly cuts her off, standing up off the couch and picking her up.

nick and chris help the zoo keeper load the cages out of the house into the van as matt and i try to cool down layla.

matt holds layla in his arms as he carefully walks down the hallway into matt and i’s bedroom.

i follow close behind, ready for the intense tantrum that’s on its way

matt sits down on the floor with layla, who’s absolutely fuming now.

i decide to let matt handle, so i start to clean up our room by wiping down the desk.

suddenly my ears are pierced with a blood curdling squeal.

“i want gern-oni-mo!!” layla screams, her little face fuming.

“layla no, we don’t use that voice inside, enough.” matt says sternly, grabbing her wrist as he holds her still.

“no! you stole him from me!” she yells, slapping her small hands at matt’s large wrist.

“enough, no hitting.” matt warns, his hands holding her sides.

she pouts as her bottom lips trembles, she folds her arms over her chest and plops down onto the floor in a fit.

“look at me layla.” matt speaks, his voice is firm but not raised.

“no!” she whines, balling up her fists at her sides.

i sit down on the desk chair, watching the whole situation unfold, letting matt handle this one.

matt reaches out to adjust her small pigtail, but he screams again.

“layla, enough.” matt raises his voice, standing up off the floor and looking down at layla.

layla goes quiet,

matt never yells at her. she’s basically his little princess, matt could never bring himself to be mad at his sweet girl.

her bottom lip trembles,

her eyes glaze over,

and she bursts into tears.

“oh sweetheart.” matt sighs, a hint of frustration still clear in his voice, but his tone is softer now.

he leans down and picks layla up, holding her in his tattooed arms.

he sits down on the bed with her, his large hands resting on her cheeks, gently wiping her tears.

“shh, shh.” matt whispers softly, peppering kisses to her damp nose.

“i understand you’re upset about the hedgehog, but what if i told you daddy had a suprise!” matt smiles encouragingly.

laylas ears perk up, she lets out a small hiccup as she nods.

“how about, on saturday, we take you to the petting zoo to visit geronimo!” matt grins,

instantly she cracks a small smile, she buries her face in matt’s shirt, trying to hide the fact she’s happy.

“yeah? you like that idea?” matt asks, gently pulling her away from his chest.

she nods frantically with a big smile plastered across her face

“you’ll get to give geronimo a big cuddle!” matt speaks, gently grabbing her chin and wiggling her face.

layla stands up on the mattress, bouncing up and down happily before jumping on top of matt.

“dada!” layla claps,

“do we- do we get to hold him aswell!” she giggles,

“yeah you do! of course!” matt grins,

layla squeals out of excitement,

“now can i have a hug?” matt asks gently, opening his arms.

layla fully body slams herself into matt, matt gently wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“i didn’t mean to make you upset earlier princess, but remember that using your inside voice is necessary.” matt whispers into her ear, keeping his arms wrapped around her.

she nods with a small pout,

matt puts his finger on her bottom lip, “what’s gotcha so pouty!” he smiles, gently pushing her small lips back.

she giggles,

“alright, now let’s get you some snacks.” matt speaks, standing up off the couch and picking up layla.

he carries her down the long hallway into the kitchen,

“are the carrots okay for your teeth? or would you like me to cut them up.” he asks layla, rummaging through the fridge,

“carrots ‘s okay!” she says, grabbing the whole carrot out of matt’s hand and gnawing on it.

matt carries layla down to the living room, plopping her down on the couch and putting on spongebob.

“you call me if you need anything okay? i’m just gonna be with mommy.” he tells layla,

she’s too absorbed in the tv to respond,

i hear matt’s gradual footsteps coming down the hallway until he reaches our room,

he walks in with a smug expression,

“did you see that? i’m a professional!” matt laughs, flopping down on the bed beside me,

“you are so adorable when you try to cheer her up.” i grin, resting my head on matt’s chest.

“but i do a pretty good job!” matt defends himself, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me ontop of him.

“mmmm.” i hum with a smile,

“you know i do!” he protests,

“okay maybe you do,” i crack with a smile,

matt nods with a smug smile, “what can i say.”

“such a good daddy.” i giggle, burying my face into matt’s shirt.

“oh my god- enough with that corny daddy shit.” matt groans, jabbing his fingers against my ribs.

“i saw the opportunity and took it.” i laugh,

i lay ontop of matt, propped up on my elbows so my face is inches from his.

i lean down and press my lips to his,

i can feel his smiles as he kisses me back, rolling us over so he’s ontop of me.

he peppers kisses all over my face,

“i got layla distracted with spongebob, we have some alone time.” matt whispers,

“so romantic.” i tease,

-

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[starkeyvhs]

kiss me

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 3 times rafe’s attempts to kiss you for the first time failed and the 1 time it didn’t. OR you have a ‘thing’ going on with the most popular guy of your school, where you both just know about your mutual attraction, but aren’t doing anything about it. how cliché, am I right?

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS: rafe is such a tease and a pain in the ass (but reader loves him); nerdy reader who loves science; swearing; high school au; swearing; slightly suggestive jokes; reader overworks herself; fluffiness and softness overall; I always beta read my fics but if there are any minor grammatical/spelling errors please ignore

EDITH SPEAKS: and it’s out!!! I���ve been wanting to write something like this for so long and i hope I did justice to the entire 3+1 idea! I always love fics in this format and I hope mine is pretty fun to read too <3 please reblog if you enjoyed reading! feedback is always highly appreciated 🪻

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ONE — SNEAK IN

The soft chirping of the cicadas and the rustling of the trees in the gentle breeze is completely lost on you as your focus remains solely on the assignment opened in front of you, your headphones fixed in place, canceling any noises from outside whatsoever. 

Your attention is so absorbed by just your work that you don’t even realize when the window of your room slowly slides open, revealing no one other than Rafe slowly climbing inside your room. It’s only when Rafe accidentally bumps into your dresser and lets out a groan when you are made aware there is someone besides you in your room, and the sudden realization makes you let out a scream. 

“Jesus–” Rafe mutters, quickly muffling your scream with his hand covering your mouth. “It’s just me, calm down,” 

He watches your widened eyes slowly fall shut for a moment before opening back up, the tense muscles of your body slowly relaxing. He gently removes your headphones and keeps them aside on your bed, his hand coming off your mouth and falling to his side. 

“You scared me!” You say, giving a light smack to his arm as you scoot over on your bed to make space for him. Rafe only playfully rolls his eyes and sits next to you on your bed. His eyes skim over your assignment sprawled over your bed sheets in front of you before meeting your gaze. 

“What?” He teases, leaning back against the headboard, watching you look back at him with that adorable confused expression that he loves. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” you begin, “probably something about how you just sneaked in?” You say, your voice taking an incredulous tone.

He chuckles softly, his heart only melting more at your incredulity, and the way your eyes widen when he begins to make himself more comfortable; fluffing the pillow behind him once and slouching against it. 

“You talk a lot sometimes, you know that?” He teases, letting his fingers curl around your arm and giving you a gentle tug. 

You only huff at his words, trying your level best to not let the small smile pulling the corners of your lips to be shown to him, because you just know the amount of teasing it’ll entail. 

You let him pull you closer to him, now both of you sitting so close to each other your knee touches his thigh. You look at him, all slouched and comfortable in your bed as you sit upright. 

“What?” You mutter, as he gazes back at you with a gentle smirk on his face. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, his smirk only widening as he keeps on gazing at you, the eye contact strong and firm, and it’s clear none of you are ready to cut it. 

You can feel a certain heat rising up in your cheeks with the way his piercing blue eyes simply refuse to leave yours. It’s intoxicating in a way – the feelings bubbling under your skin when he looks at you like that, and no matter how hard you wish to try, you just can’t take your own eyes away from his. 

“What are you even doing here?” You mutter, your eyes still sinking into his. 

“What? I can’t visit my favorite girl?” Rafe says – more like challenges – a matching look in his eyes as he leans forward just slightly. 

That catches you off guard, no doubt, but you maintain eye contact with him, squinting your eyes just a bit. 

“Liar,” you mutter, your tone accusatory, a finger coming up pointing towards his face. “I know that’s not true. What do you want? Chemistry homework? No wait, you suck at math you probably need–” 

Rafe can’t help but let out a quiet laughter at your words, his gaze breaking apart from yours as he looks down at his lap, shaking his head quietly as he laughs. 

“What?” You clear your throat, sitting up straighter as you grab your assignment back again and bring it in your lap, flipping through the pages to find where you left off before a certain intrusion completely broke your focus. 

“Hey hey come on now,” he says, gently pulling the above assignment out from your hands and keeping it aside. “I’m here, give me attention,” he pouts, sitting up straighter in bed and shifting closer to you. 

You let out a deep exhale and turn to look at Rafe. “See? That’s better,” he mutters, a small smile playing on his lips as he lets his fingers gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Another silence envelops you two, but this time it’s more charged – as if a certain pull is making sure you don’t even attempt to take your eyes away from him. The silence only electrifies the moment between you two more, and before you know it, you can see him ever so slowly gravitating towards you. 

“Honey I’m home!”

Your mother’s voice rings through your entire house, and it’s like the sharpest knife cutting through the thickest tension. The bubble that formed around you and Rafe bursts immediately and Rafe springs away from you, both of your eyes widening. 

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, suddenly remembering how your mother left the house to buy some groceries. 

“I’m just gonna–” Rafe says immediately as he scrambles to get up from your bed, giving a quick adjustment to his hair once and rushing over to your window from where he had sneaked in. 

“Yeah yeah,” you breathe, and you can hear the steady steps of your mother coming up the stairs of the upper level; right where your room is. 

“Bye,” Rafe says shortly and climbs out of the window and goes back down with the help of the huge tree in your backyard; following the same path he took when he came up. 

Your eyes drift over the messed sheets where he was just laying a moment ago, and towards the window where your curtains flutter under the wind. A moment later you hear a knock on your door and it opens, your mother’s head peeking in. 

You snap your head towards her and give a gentle smile, letting her enter your room and engage in a conversation with you. 

As much as you try to talk with her with complete focus, your mind goes back to that moment, and to say you feel butterflies in your stomach just thinking about it is the biggest understatement of the century. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

TWO — LIBRARY

“Wait wait wait, this was– ethylene?” 

“Yeah,” 

“And, this is… fuck what was it?” 

“Acetylene,” 

“Acetylene, yeah that, so that’s acetylene,” 

“Uh huh,” 

“And, what’s the difference again?” 

You look up from the notebook to be met with a sheepish smile on Rafe’s smile, and you let out a soft sigh. 

“I know I know I’ve asked this a million times but, just one last time? Please?” He pouts, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to ‘woo’ you. 

“Okay okay you can stop that,” you mutter and shake your head, hearing him silently chuckle. You open a fresh page of your notebook to explain to him the structural differences between ethylene and acetylene again.

“... this has a double bond and this has a triple, that’s… that’s literally it,” you say, looking up from your drawn structures on the paper to his face. 

“Ohhhh,” he exaggerates, snapping his fingers. “I get it now,” 

“Uh huh now you do,” you mutter, trying to figure out how he just couldn’t understand the difference between double and triple bonds. Somewhere, you knew he was just doing this to tease you, but you push that thought away in your mind, instead focusing on searching for the next topic from your book. 

Rafe has been on the cusp of failing chemistry – something which is not a shock to you – for quite a while now.  It didn’t matter one dime to him but now when his teacher made him sit down and actually realize how much he’s been falling behind, it was like a switch of reality had turned on in his mind. 

“Rafe, these grades just won’t cut it. You need someone to help you with this,” the teacher had said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly tired with the boy sitting in front of him. 

“Y/n will help me, for sure,” he had said with a cheeky smile, the thought of getting you to tutor him making him overly giddy.

The teacher had agreed, and now here you are, in the school library, spending your hours trying to explain the mere basics of organic chemistry to him. Can’t say you’re complaining about it, though. 

“Okay so I think I’m going to pick up isomerism next, it’s easy and should finish quick–”

“Nah I’m tired,” he whines, dragging your textbook away from him. 

“What the– give it back!” You say, attempting to take it back from him as he keeps it well out of your reach above his head. 

“Nuh uh,” he grins, shaking his head. “Come on, we’ve been going over this… alien language for the last hour. I get it, carbon adores hydrogen, blah blah,” he rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not an alien language,” you huff, “you’d understand it if you actually focus on it,” 

“It is an alien language,” he retorts, keeping the book back on the table. “Don’t you think our lives would be so much easier without all this chemistry and physics?” 

“But I like them,” you defend, realizing there’s no way he’s going to get back to studying, so you resort to gathering all your stationery in your pencil pouch. 

“Yeah yeah I know you do,” he smiles, watching you collect your stuff. “I, for one think that Newton was boring as fuck. He just wasn’t laid enough I’m telling you. If he was, he wouldn’t have spent his time studying apples falling from trees,” 

You snap your head at him, a furrow in your brows and a look of disgust twisting your features. “Huh?” you exclaim, falling shut just the next moment as you glance over your shoulder towards where the librarian is sitting, realizing just how loud you were. 

Thankfully, the librarian is busy with talking to some students, so she didn’t hear your loud reaction to Rafe’s absurd comments. 

“God,” you mumble, shaking your head and turning to look back at Rafe, who just has an amused grin on his face. 

“She’s gonna kick you out if she hears you,” he muses, glancing at the librarian himself before looking back at you. 

“Yeah I’m aware,” you mutter, focusing back on gathering your stuff. 

“So…” he begins, leaning slightly closer to you and keeping his voice low, “what did you think of it?”

“Of what?” 

“Of Newton not getting laid enough,” 

“Rafe–” you groan, closing your eyes tight for a moment to regain your composure. You exhale deeply, before looking back at Rafe. “That’s fucking ridiculous,” you mutter. 

“No it’s not it’s a serious matter, I mean, think about it,” he says, “if he was busy with girls he really wouldn’t have any time to think of apples or whatever,” 

“He wasn’t thinking of apples he just saw an apple falling and came up with the concept of a force that is pulling things towards Earth–”

“Yeah yeah that, I know that missy, but he had way too much free time on his hands–”

“He made important contributions to physics–”

“Contributions my ass all he did was give me a fucking headache–”

“That’s not–” you shut your mouth again, taking another deep breath to control yourself. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, now keeping everything in your bag. 

“Aw come on,” Rafe laughs, gently taking your hands in his to stop you from packing your bag. “I know I’m being a real pain in the ass, and I’m sorry yeah?” He says, his voice taking a gentler tone as he gives your hands a soft tug, pulling you closer to him. 

Your focus gets completely diverted from the bag you were packing; the idea that you would just leave now  completely absent from your mind. 

A silence falls over you two, only accompanied by the sound of the occasional footsteps around the library, the ruffling of the pages and the scratching of pens on papers. It’s quite silent; only a few people in the library, leaving you and Rafe to a table all by yourself. 

“I’ve got to say…” he murmurs, his voice now incredibly low as he leans just a bit towards you, “you’re a great teacher,” 

“Yeah?” You mumble, your eyes flicking down to his lips for just a second before finding his eyes back again. 

“Yeah,” he hums, giving a nod of his head in agreement. A gentle smile pulls his lips as he gazes into your eyes, his hands still gently holding yours. 

“What?” You say quietly, suddenly starting to feel self-conscious under his gaze. You attempt to turn your face away from him, but just the moment you turn your head a little bit to the side, one of his hands leaves yours to gently grip your chin and turn it back to meet your gaze. 

“Don’t hide your pretty face from me, yeah?” He mumbles, his fingers under your chin for a moment too long, before he lets his hand let go of your chin.

You can feel your cheeks heat up from his comment. He’s said you’re pretty many times before no doubt, but this specific comment just felt different. 

The peaceful moment between you two is broken immediately when you both hear the sound of a throat clearing behind you. You both snap your head to the side to see the librarian standing on the opposite end of the table, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she glares at you. 

Flustered, you quickly tear your hands away from Rafe’s grip and keep your head down, busying yourself back with packing your bag. 

From the corner of your eye you catch Rafe sighing, crossing his own arms in front of his chest and leaning back in his chair, his gaze on his arms. 

“The library is closing,” the librarian says, her voice crisp and stern as ever. “You have two minutes to vacate,”

“Yes miss,” you mumble under your breath, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with one of the zippers on your bag. 

With one last glare, the librarian leaves the table, but you can still feel the intense focus of her gaze on yourself, as if she’s pinned you in place and you have no chance to even move a single limb. 

“Buzzkill,” Rafe mutters under his breath as he stuffs everything in his bag and hangs it on his shoulder, standing up. You quietly stand up too, hanging your own bag and following Rafe out of the library. On your way out, you feel the librarian staring at the both of you as you walk out. Rafe walks with an air of carefreeness while you only feel more and more judged. 

Well, you most certainly won’t be coming back here anytime in the near future, that’s for sure.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

THREE — THE HALLWAY

The quietness of the long hallway has a small sense of eeriness to it, watching it being empty instead of being filled completely with the hustle bustle of students between periods.

Rafe sighs quietly as he keeps his books in his locker, even the smallest sounds echoing in the silent hallway. As he’s almost done with keeping his stuff in the locker, the sound of footsteps in the hallway catches his attention.

He looks over his shoulder to watch you; your back to him as you reach your locker and open it to keep your own books. He smiles to himself at the sight of you. How weird is it that you both are only apart for one period and he already misses you deeply?

He saunters over to you, leaning his back against the locker door next to yours and gazes at you with a smile on his face.

“Hey there, pretty,” he hums, watching your eyes find him. “Smashed the test, I assume?”

He watches your eyes drift down from his silently as you get back to keeping books in your locker, your lips pressed in a thin line.

Rafe’s smile falters at your silent attitude. You had a huge calculus test, and the nerves had been getting to you all day before the test. Rafe had been doing his best to keep you relaxed, but with how much pressure you tend to take about tests and how heavy the subject actually is, he knew his efforts were fruitless. He saw you begin preparing for it as quickly as humanly possible, and it was extremely hard for him to convince you to prevent you from spending every waking second studying for it.

“Hey…” he mumbles softly, watching you keep yourself busy with keeping and pulling random notebooks in and from your locker. “What happened? You okay?”

Again, he’s met with silence. You even refuse to let your eyes meet.

Rafe exhales deeply through his nose as he gently places a hand on your shoulder. That grasps your attention, you flicker your eyes from the locker to his eyes.

“The test didn’t go okay?” He asks softly, gently closing the open locker door with his other hand. His gaze is fixed intently at you, and when he watches your gaze drop down to your shoes and your head shaking ‘no’ in response, his lips tug down in a frown.

“Oh no…” he mumbles, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you in a warm embrace.

You press your face into his chest, your arms hooking around his waist. “I studied so hard…” you mumble into his chest, “but I just, i don’t know what happened, I fumbled and forgot everything, even the things I was confident with…”

“Shh shh it’s okay…” Rafe mumbles, his words the most soothing balm you’ve ever experienced. “You’re really intelligent, okay? Don’t let this one test define your worth,”

“I know I know but…” You involuntarily snuggle more into Rafe’s chest, your body seeking his warmth which is providing you utmost comfort at a moment which has you on the verge of breaking down, “I just, i really gave it my all…” Your voice is low, your words weak and your body almost slumping in Rafe’s arms. Rafe only tightens his grip around you – because he always wants to be there to catch you whenever you feel like you’re going to fall.

Gently, Rafe pulls your head back from his chest. He lets his hand cup the side of your face, his thumb delicately stroking the skin of your cheek. “And that’s all that matters,” He mumbles slowly, looking into your eyes. “You gave your best, and that really is what matters the most. I’m really proud of you, you worked so hard. Everything doesn’t always turn out the way we want it, but you get rewarded for your hard work, always,”

You sniffle quietly as you look up at Rafe, your red rimmed eyes almost making his heart ache. “Yeah?” You murmur, and feel Rafe catch a stray tear on your cheek, wiping it off.

Rafe gives you a small smile and a nod of his head. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I mean every word,”

Rafe’s thumb gently caresses over your cheek, slowly trailing over to your mouth. He lets the pad of his thumb slowly trace your lower lip, his gaze fixating on your lips and the slow, soothing repetitive motion of his thumb over your lip. He can feel your breathing coming in small puffs against his thumb, your lips just slightly parted.

The sharp ringing of the bell practically makes you two spring apart from each other, as if you both had completely forgotten where you actually were in the flow of the moment. Only a fraction of a second later, the chatter of students filters through the hallway and it’s now completely filled with students, completely in contrast to the deserted corridors mere moments ago.

“So, uh…” Rafe clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he does so – something you’ve seen he does often when he’s anxious, thinking of something, or in this case: when he’s nervous. “What class do you have next? I’ve uh… I have geography,”

“Uh I’ve got physics,” You mutter, your fingers twisting each other nervously behind your back.

“Okay so I’ll see you after class yeah?” He says, letting his hand fall to his side from behind his neck. “You, you take care yeah? Don’t think too much about the test, I’m sure you’ve done better than you think,”

“Uh huh,” You breathe, adjusting your bag on your shoulders.

An awkward silence falls over two as you remain stand-by among the hustle bustle of the students who brush past you, rushing to their lockers and eventually their classes. It’s almost like being in the center of the tornado, watching the chaos spin around you while you stay completely still.

Rafe chooses to break the silence, muttering a ‘bye’ to you and turning sharply on his heels, already making his way to his class. It takes a moment for you to get back to normal after everything you’ve experienced in the span of barely an hour, and you get going to your class too.

Well, you most certainly aren’t thinking way too much about that disaster of a test now, though.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

ONE — THE GYM

The dribbles of the ball against the wooden court echo throughout the empty gym, accompanied with the squeaks of the shoes. Rafe takes a jump, letting his fingers let go of the ball as it follows its path and swooshes right through the net in the cleanest manner possible. The ball lands back on the ground and bounces up and down continuously, Rafe’s eyes fixed on it from his position as he watches the way the ball eventually comes to a full stop on the floor. 

“Someone’s been working real hard, huh?” 

Rafe turns around to see you walking inside the empty gym, your hands on your back and a small smile on your face as you approach the ball. He watches you silently pick the ball up and toss it to him, which he catches with a single hand. 

“Yeah,” He says, standing still in his position, the orange ball now resting against his side under his arm. “We’ve got Regionals next week,”

You approach closer to him, a gentle smile on your face. “You’ll do great, trust me. You’re a great team captain,” Your voice is gentle and comforting. 

“I try my best,” He murmurs, his expression softening as he watches you look at him in the most soothing way. It’s so hard for him to put into words the way your presence makes him feel, but he knows everything becomes slightly bearable when he remembers he’s got you. 

You take a glance around the gym, the only people present in the large, empty space are you two. “You’ve been practicing alone?” You ask, your eyes finding his back again. 

“Yeah,” He replies, “it’s relaxing, to take some time by myself to practice,” 

“How long have you been here?” You ask, gently placing a hand on his arm. 

“Since school ended,” he says softly, his body relaxing under your brief touch. 

“It’s been two hours to that,” you murmur. “You’ve been here for quite some time now. You wanna take a break?”

Rafe looks around the gym once, as if contemplating taking a break or not. His eyes find yours, and the warmth and care in them makes him give in. 

“Okay,” He gives you a soft smile and you both walk over to the bleachers and sit down. Rafe takes a moment to wipe the sweat off his face with his towel and drinking from his bottle before sitting down next to you. 

“You nervous?” You say after a moment of silence. “About the regionals, I mean,”

Rafe shrugs, his gaze looking out at the huge basketball court in front of you two. “A bit, I guess,” He says. “Our team hasn’t gone to a Regionals in over 4 years now, so… there’s some pressure over me to lead the team to a win,”

You look over at him, a solemn expression on his face from his words. You don’t really know how much pressure being the team captain entails, but now, looking at him as he tells you about how much he’s got riding on him to lead the team to a winning position certainly gives you a small glimpse into how hard he has to work. 

“Hey…” You say, your voice soft as you let your fingers curl around his bicep. That catches his attention and he turns to look at you. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, yeah? You’re doing great, trust me. I really do think your team can win,”

Rafe’s expression softens at your words as he gazes into your eyes. “You really think so?” He mumbles quietly. 

“I know so,” You smile. “Your hard work will give you your results, you deserve it,”

His own lips upturn into a soft smile. Your words cause a wave of comfort to wash over him, the pressure of wanting to only be the best of the best from not only his coach and team, but from the entire school slowly easing it’s iron tight grip on his heart. 

“You’re so… sweet,” He murmurs, placing a hand on top of yours which is still around his bicep. 

Your smile slightly widens as you look in his eyes, watching him look at you with such fondness. Rafe gently takes your hand off his arm and brings it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“And so nice, and just…” He presses another kiss to your skin, “incredible.” He gently turns your hand over in his grip and presses a kiss to your palm, before giving it a soft tug and placing it on his cheek. You gently hold the side of his face, softly stroking his cheek with your thumb. He sighs softly, nuzzling his face into your palm, his eyes drooping slightly. 

He keeps on looking at you, and gently reaches out to place both his hands on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. He doesn’t take his hands off, only tightens his grip on you. You let go of his cheek and place both your hands on his shoulders, your eye contact not breaking with him. 

Your gaze flickers down to his lips, and it fixes on there. You can feel yourself beginning to lean closer to him, as if seeking him and his warmth out. Rafe makes no move to pull back, his blunt fingers slightly digging into your waist. 

You can feel his warm breath on your parted lips, your eyes almost fully shut. 

Rafe takes the leap, pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes fall shut completely the moment his lips seek yours in a warm press, every nerve ending of your body on fire from the closure between you two. 

Rafe slowly moves lips against yours in an unrushed manner, letting him and you feel every emotion you both now commonly share. You just know his heart is beating just as fast as yours, his mind is as blank as yours, and his body is on fire just like yours. 

Rafe slowly pulls back after a moment, letting his forehead rest against yours. Your breath comes out in short puffs against his lips, your eyes still closed as if opening them will make you snap out of the most beautiful dream you can ever dream of. 

“Finally,” Rafe mutters quietly, causing your lips to break out in a smile. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, “finally.” 

You lean forward to kiss him again, and Rafe’s heart explodes once again at your sweetness and warmth. 

Finally. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy

specific tags for this fic: @ilyrafe / @zyafics

tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @totalswag / @ladyinbl00d / @b1mb0slvt / @nemesyaaa

[bangchansnudes]

baby

fuckboy!hyunjin. 1.6k word. cliched enemy to lovers(??) with a douchebag hyunjin.

“don’t tell me you’re scared of some fake gore,” the boy whispers over to you, followed by a mocking chuckle, “need me to protect you baby?”

“shut up.”

“baby.”

“shut-”

“can you both shut up and just watch the damn movie?” seungmin says from his sitting position on the floor, his head turning back to glare at both you and hyunjin on the couch, “i swear if i need to pause it again, i’m throwing both of you out in the cold!”

if it weren’t for the fact that your roommate was dating seungmin, you would never ever interact with someone like his best friend, hwang hyunjin, let alone let him into your apartment.

but unfortunately for you, the two were the ultimate besties which meant where one boy went, the other usually followed. that’s why it had become a norm for the four of you to hang out. like right now, a weekend movie night.

you really didn’t mind seungmin, the boy was nice and treated your roommate well but hwang hyunjin was a whole other story.

hwang hyunjin. sigh. the boy was the literal definition of a fuck boy. an obnoxious frat boy who flirted his way through every living thing in a skirt. yeah, that was a way to describe him.

at first, hanging out with him wasn’t all that bad. you actually didn’t mind him either, the boy was somewhat funny and that face of his was just absolutely breath taking. one of the many reasons why he was so popular around town.

but then he began treating you differently, for some reason. he’d go out of his way to annoy you, to insult you, to tease you. he seemed to suddenly hate you and he made sure to let you know that.

and it had been hell since.

“i’m gonna make more popcorn,” you get off the couch and head towards the kitchen, sighing at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night with hyunjin. classes had already been hell for you so the last thing you needed tonight was a screaming match with the fuck boy.

“don’t do too much thinking, your small brain might explode.”

that voice. that god awful voice.

you turn around to see the devil himself leaning against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over and a smug grin on his stupid handsome face.

“what? cat got your tongue babe?” he makes his way over to you, cornering you in against the kitchen cabinet, “or have you finally fallen in love with me?”

“fuck off hwang,” you push at his chest but the boy doesn’t budge, only laughing at your weak move, “i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.”

“what do you have against me anyway?” he leans in closer to you, both his hands now resting on either sides of you on the cabinet, “is it cause i’m so good looking and so popular?”

gulp.

this has to be the closest you’ve ever been to hyunjin, his face barely even an inch away from yours. the smell of his cologne is attacking you from every direction, a very clear indication that he was way into your personal space than necessary.

“no hwang. i hate you because you’re so obnoxious and so self centred!”

“oh really?”

“yes!” your hands push up against his chest again as you say so, preventing the boy from coming any closer to you, “you think everything is about you! just because all the girls on campus wants to fuck you, doesn’t mean you can be such a douchebag all the time!”

perhaps you were crazy but you swear you could see his gaze move from your eyes to your lips as you spoke, the boy clearly not paying any attention to your words. you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet, why he’s not throwing insults at you but the way he’s staring is making you more nervous than ever.

you try to avoid his weird, intense gaze by moving away but the boy stays put, his arms on either sides of you seemingly sliding closer to your body instead.

“mo- move-”

“do you wanna fuck me?”

“what the fuck hyunjin?”

“you said every girl on campus wants to fuck me right? well do you wanna fuck me?”

“of course not!”

“well that’s really too bad,” he scoffs, a playful grin on his face as his hands grab onto your waist, holding you in place, “cause i wanna fuck you though.”

your mouth is frozen, your mind unable to process the words that had come out of his mouth. maybe you were just hearing things because there was no way he had just said what he said to you.

the boy who had made your life a living hell these past two months wanted to what? fuck you?

“you... what?”

“i said, i want to fuck you,” his grip on you tightens with every word, fingers now gripping so harshly into your skin that you’re certain marks will appear by tomorrow morning, “and if you don’t tell me to stop, i am going to kiss you right now.”

gulp.

“th- this isn’t funny. let go.”

you let out a squeal when he suddenly lifts you up onto the cabinet and moves to stand in between your dangling legs. his body is now comfortably pressed against yours, his arms tightly around your waist while yours are resting on his shoulders. it’s a position you wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be in with him but here you are and you’re not pushing him away either.

“does it look like i’m trying to be funny?” his lips brushes past yours just slightly as he says so, a move you would’ve surely punched him for but at this moment, you don’t know how to react.

so many things are running through your mind, so many different potential reasons as to why he was suddenly acting this way.

“too late baby.”

and his lips were on yours before you could even respond, kissing you with so much force that your bottom lip immediately hurts. the boy is evidently desperate, wanting to taste more of you than just the surface.

his hands casually slides underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you, causing an instant shiver through your body from his touch alone. you feel as though your body is on fire, every part of you screaming to be touched, to be pleased.

he moves away from you slightly after a bit, just enough for you to catch your breath again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, the intensity of his gaze only causing an embarrasing pool in between your legs. in addition to the pool that was already there during the kiss.

“if you just want to get your dick wet, well you’re not getting shit from me hwang.”

lies. you know for a fact that one more move from the boy and you’ll probably end up on your knees if he told you to.

but he didn’t need to know that.

“actually i’ve been trying for two months but you’re too fucking dense to notice,” he rolls his eyes at you, clearly annoyed, “why else would i spend every single weekend here? you think i really want to watch shitty b grade movies with the lovey dovey couple?”

“wait... what?”

“i flirt with you every single time! as if you really didn’t know!”

“being a dick is your way of flirting?” you make a disgusted face and slap his chest, “how on earth do you get girls everyday being this way?”

“well i haven’t had a girl in two months because the one i want is oblivious as fuck.”

silence.

...

more silence.

“well- well... i-”

“just shut up,” he smashes his lips onto your onces again, this time kissing you in a way that had your knees weak and your body feeling like mush. it’s a slow and sensual kiss, as if the boy is taking his time with you, wanting to feel every part of you.

you end up whimpering into the kiss when one of his hands moves to trace the thin lining of your pants, his fingers teasingly slipping past the band. but to your dismay, that’s all he does.

“hyunjin...”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

“oh. my. god,” you and hyunjin immediately freeze at your roommate’s sudden gasp, only to see her and seungmin standing at the entrance, completely disgusted, “i knew you guys would’ve ended up fucking one day but PLEASE not in my kitchen. PLEASE.”

“i told you dude. should’ve just confessed instead of giving me a headache for the past two months,” seungmin sighs dramatically before pulling your roommate away, “whatever, we’re going out. you guys play nicely.”

and the two are gone as quick as they appeared, leaving you and hyunjin alone in the apartment. no one says anything for a while but you don’t care. all you wanted to do was hide in a hole forever after being caught by your roommate and seungmin.

with a sigh, you decide it’d be best for you to get off the cabinet but hyunjin stops you.

“ah- i’m not done with you yet,” he says sternly, holding you in place, “we have a lot to talk about.”

“talk?”

“yeah like where you want me to take you on our first date.”

“who said i’d date you?” it’s your turn to scoff now, amazed at the boy’s confidence, “you wish hwang.”

“who you trying to fool? you were about to let me fuck you right here in this kitchen babe, so i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t say no to a date.”

“hwang hyunjin!”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

end.

​2024 © bangchansnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.

Chapter 15: Mo leannan

Johnny isn’t stupid. 

Or blind, for that matter.

Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.

And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.

And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.

No, this was different.

Personal.

And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.

They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.

But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…

And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.

It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.

Both of them way too glued to their phones…

His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could… 

And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz. 

That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…

That they would text each other sweet nothings…

That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.

And, well, it was none of his business…

But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.

So, he tried probing.

Just a little.

Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.

He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.

Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.

But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…

And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same… 

So he froze his investigation for a moment.

And he picked it up right. now.

As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.

Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.

And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.

The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.

He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.

Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.

An extra piece of the puzzle…

He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…

There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?

Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?

Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.

A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.

Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.

“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.

“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.

Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.

“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.

“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.

“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.

“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you ��deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.

“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.

“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.

“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”

“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”

“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.

Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex. 

“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny. 

Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols. 

His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.

“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.

“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.

He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.

“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.

“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.

Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.

“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.

“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.

The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.

Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.

You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.

“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues. 

“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.

Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.

Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.

You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket.  “Just never thought something like this would happen.”

Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.

“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.

Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.

Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.

Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.

“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth. 

He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.

“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.

“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”

From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.

Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”

“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.

“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.

“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak

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[kaiawrites]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (halloween fic)

lando norris x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

prompt(s): “You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.” & "Oh my god, your room is so dirty. How do you live here?" "If you're so bothered by it, clean it up." "Fuck off. I'm not your servant." "You act like one." "I. Said. Fuck. Off."

warnings: slightly creepy guy calls the reader a wh*re, minor violence/blood (just a bar fight), the rest is pretty fluffy

a/n: posting my 'once in every 3 years' post, happy halloween for the lando girlies! I haven't proofread this, so sorry for any mistakes

"Have you seen my black T-shirt, I'm sure it was here. I swear I saw it here," you heard Lando’s voice call out from across your shared flat. 

"Oh, the one that looked like a rag? Yeah, I threw it away," you replied as you continued drying off your dishes.

“What!” you heard Lando shriek. "You little shit, come here!" You snickered as an angry, shirtless, Lando stormed into your kitchen.

“Clam down Norris, I didn’t touch any of your shit I have no idea where your goddamn T-shirt is,” you laughed at the Brit’s unamused face as you put away the last of the dishes. “Come on, I’ll help you look for it,” you said, though you did not expect what you found when you reached Lando’s room. Rarely did you ever come into each other’s room; so you hadn’t seen it’s inside it a while. Clothes were strewn about on every flat surface, cups and plates you’d been missing for weeks scattered about and his bedsheets practically on the floor. No wonder he couldn’t find his stupid t-shirt.

"Oh my god, your room is so messy. How do you live here?" you laughed, your roommate glowering further at you. Clearly, he did not find you as funny as you found yourself.

"If you're so bothered by it, clean it up."

"Fuck off. I'm not your servant." 

"Well, you act like one, darling," now a teasing smile curling his lips.

“Then you can find your shirt on your own, Norris,” you said, giving him a bitter smile before exiting his room. You knew damn well there was no way you would've been able to find anything in his mess of a room. Anyways, you had to start getting ready too, since you were soon to be on your way to a Halloween party. Your costume was quite simple, just a regular red mini-dress and some devil horns on a headband, so it didn’t take you very long once you’d gotten your makeup down. 

“Come on Norris we’re gonna be late!” You called out, checking your phone for the time. In truth, you were already late, but you were about to be later than was acceptable if Lando didn’t come down soon. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. Unluckily, however, it seemed that Lando had gone absolutely insane and dumped a gallon of glitter on his skin.

“Is that your costume?” You asked. Lando looked down at himself and nodded proudly, glitter falling off at the movement. “I thought you were being a vampire..?”

“I am,” Lando replied, a permanent proud and shit-eating grin on his face. “You know, like the ones from Twilight.”

“You’re going to embarrass me,” you said in exasperation.

“I know, that’s the point, love,” Lando replied smugly. “Let’s go now, you don’t want to be late, do you?” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him out.

———

Lando watched from the bar as you stumbled off the dance floor and looked around, a bright, dazed smile tugging at your lips when you spotted him. Jesus christ you were beautiful. Not that you weren’t always beautiful, Lando knew you were, but there were moments where you seemed more than beautiful. Moments like this one, where you headed toward him, the glistening of your skin reflecting the club lights, looking at him expectantly as you awaited his answer.

“What?” Lando said, breaking out of his stupor and nearly blushing at how he’d completely missed your question. You laughed at his confusion, before leaning closer. Lando’s heart skipped a beat, and for an imperceptible moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. But of course, the moment passed as you leaned into his ear, repeating your unanswered question more clearly. 

“Why aren’t you having fun?” you asked smoothly, revealing a faux pout as you drew back. Lando let out a chuckle.

“I am having fun, love,” he replies.

“No, you’re standing here watching the rest of us have fun,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “Come oooonnn, Norris, come dance with me.” Lando stared into your puppy-dog eyes, ready to give in and come make a fool of himself on the dance floor for you, before he was cut off by an unknown, and unwelcome voice.

“Forget him, I’ll dance with you,” the voice said, its owner getting far too touchy with you for Lando’s liking.

“Uhm, no thank you,” you answered, all your previous mirth dissipating into discomfort.

“Come on babe, I promise, I’m fun,” the evidently drunk man repeated, 

“I’m alright, thanks,” you said, refusing once more. The man didn’t reply this time, instead choosing to grab your wrist in order to lead you toward the floor.

“She said no, mate,” Lando cut in dryly. The man turned toward Lando, anger simmering beneath his stare.

“Look, you can drop the act mate, I’ve seen her whoring around all night, I know that’s not your girl. She’s free game,” he slurred.

“What did you just call her?” Lando spat. The guy laughed at what Lando could only assume the man thought was an empty threat. However, Lando didn’t give him a chance to retaliate.

“Lando!” you exclaimed as both men went down. The next moments were a blur of fists and bloodied faces, until Lando was suddenly pulled off the man by a security guard. He turned to see you looking all at once scared, worried, relieved and angry. Lando looked back down at the drunk guy, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at the state he’d left him in, even as the security guard escorted him out of the bar.

———

“Are you mad at me?” Lando broke the heavy silence as you walked into your flat. You sighed deeply, turning around to face him for the first time since you’d been kicked out of the bar. 

“Of course not, just… promise you won’t do anything like that ever again. I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but that was even more stupid than usual,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but Lando still stared at you, uncharacteristically unreadable.

“I can’t promise that, I would do it again if I had to.”

You stared at him intently, searching for any sign of Lando’s usual playfulness, but you only found earnest eyes and a clenched jaw. You averted your gaze, not knowing what to do with this uncharacteristic behaviour. Instead, you turned toward the bathroom, hearing Lando’s shuffling feet as he trailed after you. Rummaging through a drawer, you pulled out a first aid kit and turned back toward Lando to find him almost comically standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sit,” you said more harshly than you intended, gesturing toward the ledge of the bathtub. Lando heeded your command, silently taking a spot where you’d directed him. After wiping off the remainder of his face paint and glitter, you began by cleaning up the cut on Lando’s nose, soaking a towel with cold water and dabbing it at the cut. Lando flinched and hissed at the contact. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you chided with a chuckle, though there was no malice in it.

“I am not a baby,” Lando scoffed with a small smile. After cleaning and patching up the cut on his nose, you moved on to his split lip, hesitating a moment before bringing the towel to it. Lando’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn’t wince this time. You focused on intently cleaning the wound, and once you were done, you set aside the towel. You turned back toward Lando to find his face tinged a bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face just got all red?” you inquired, looking him over for any sign of an injury you might have missed.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally. It’s the, uhm, weather,” Lando replied, his voice breaking on the first word. You looked at him, deadpan.

“We’ve been inside for a solid ten minutes, Norris,” you stated.

“Well, y’know what I mean, it’s like, warm in here or something,” he rectified, his face somehow flushing further. A small smirk formed on your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flustered, Norris,” you teased as you finished cleaning up the small cut.

“What? Flustered? By you?” He replied, his voice an octave higher and cadence a tad faster than usual, only proving your point further. You disposed of the gauze, turning back toward him and cupping his face in your hands. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at his widening eyes and ever-flushed face. “Okay, okay, maybe I am,” he admitted.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” You taunted him. Lando’s eyes searched your face for any sign of humour, but found only sincerity. With that, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow and purposeful, free of any of the teasing which usually permeated all your interactions. This was something else, communicating a kind of sincerity your words could hardly convey.

“Thank you,” you added after parting from the kiss.

“What? For kissing you?” Lando answered with a chuckle. “‘Cause I can do it again.”

“For sticking up for me. It was dangerous and reckless and please don’t do it again. But thank you, still. I appreciate it.”

“Well, like I said, I would do it again. That fucker had it coming, messing with my girl.” He replied, brushing the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“Your girl, huh?” You echoed teasingly.

“If she wants to be, that is?” Lando replied. You hummed, contemplating.

“If he takes me on a date, I might consider it,” you settled on, turning to exit the bathroom, though you didn’t miss Lando’s hushed, dragged out yes, and you giggled as you imagined him pumping his fist. He followed you out, and you both settled on the couch, seemingly in agreement to watch a movie. You tossed Lando the remote.

“Your turn to pick,” you said, as you had picked the movie last time. After a moment, Lando settled on a movie and pressed play. “A horror movie?” You inquired. “You’re terrified of those.”

“Am not!” Lando replied petulantly. 

“Yes, you are,” you laughed, doubling over as the first jumpscare of the movie made Lando jump in his place. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh, even if it was at his expense. In fact, he would gladly make an idiot out of himself every day if it meant making you laugh like that. And maybe Lando really was terrified of horror movies, but maybe he’d also purposely picked a horror movie so he’d have an excuse to his his face on your shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, you were glad he’d picked a horror movie because you too, wanted and excuse to keep him close tonight.

[darnell-la]

Could you write something Logan x reader where she uses a safe word? Like usually she is fine and enjoys the rougher play but for whatever reason she is overwhelmed or gets scared. Maybe she is embarrassed or feels bad for it because she doesn’t want him to blame himself or something

note: our most active author's birthday was yesterday, so we’ve been pretty busy. we apologize for the gap in our posting but trust me, we have a lot of posts coming. stay tuned!

btw, I gave you guys a lil tease at the end…

———

Today has been a long day of teaching for y/n. She hoped to come home and rest, but Logan also had a bad day. Usually, when he does, he needs to kiss, feel, or be in y/n to relax.

“I’ve missed you all day. Damn kids always pushin’ my buttons,” Logan spoke low in the crook of y/n’s neck as his hips slowly moved.

“You just take all of my stress away, baby. Love you so much,” Logan growled, now snapping his hips. He loved the feeling of her growing wet underneath him. He loved her so much.

Y/n let out a small and soft moan, enjoying the pleasure, but she still felt off. She hadn’t told Logan she wanted a break today, because the man looked more stressed than usual.

“You sound so beautiful, baby. Can’t get enough,” the man rolled his hips in the right spot, getting him close to his climax.

As he was thrusting, he realized y/n hadn’t come yet. “C’mon, baby. Cum on me. Wanna feel you,” the ma buried his face into her neck to bite down a bit, just how she liked it, but right now, she felt off.

“Fuck, baby, c’mon! C’mon!” The man growled, snapping his hips at a fast and hard pace. “L-Logan,” y/n stuttered, feeling the pleasure but more pain since her body was working against her.

“Yes, baby, that’s it. That’s it!” Logan placed one hand next to Y/n’s head and used the other to grip her waist, pulling her body into his thrust.

“S-Stop,” y/n begged low, not knowing if she should stop the man, or let him relax. “Ssh, baby — So fuckin’ close,” the man said as his cock twitched in her.

Y/n tried keeping herself together, knowing this would only last several more thrusts, but her eyes began to tear.

“R-Red,” y/n said low, instantly, making Logan slow his hips down. “Red!” Y/n cried out. Logan quickly pulled out of y/n and pushed himself off of the bed.

Logan went to speak, but he cut himself off after seeing y/n curl up on their shared bed. He was afraid he did something wrong. He didn’t know if he should comfort her or stay back.

“Bub?” Logan asked, voice soft so he wouldn’t alarm her. “Baby? A-Are you okay?” He asked as he slowly crawled on the bed to look over her curled body.

“Y-Yes, I just need time,” Y/n said, shutting her eyes tighter in embarrassment. How could she stop her own husband as he got closer to finishing, just because she had a bad day at work.

“O-Okay, sweetheart, just- I’m here if you need anything, okay?” He asked as y/n slowly turned around. “No, no, don’t leave. I-I didn’t mean it,” Y/n said as she rubbed her tears away.

“Just a bad day at work. It’s nothing serious, so we can continue-“ Logan cut her off before she could continue. “Nah uh, we’ll continue tomorrow. Let’s just relax for right now, okay?” He said as she went to pull y/n down to lay with him, but she refused.

“No, no, I’m fine! I swear, we can keep going. I-It’s not that serious-“ Before she could continue again, he got her off. “It is serious if you’re shouting safe words, y/n,” Logan said.

Y/n stayed silent at his tone, not knowing how to respond.

“Baby, if you’re not down to make love, you gotta tell me. I see you every day, almost all day. I can take a little break to just lay and look into your pretty eyes,” Logan sat up and rubbed y/n’s wet cheek.

“I know, it’s just-“ y/n was cut off again. “No! No, I don’t want to hear it. C’mere and lay down, before I get upset. Mhmkay?” The man said as he laid back again, waiting for her to do the same, and so she did.

“I’m not relaxed unless you are, princess. Need my baby fully in the mood when I touch her. No exceptions. No matter how much I need to taste you,”

“But, I want you to finish,” y/n said, looking up at the man who she knew needed to release. “Baby, don’t worry about me. I can live until tomorrow or whenever you feel better,” the man said, but it was hard to ignore his hard-on against her body as they lay together.

“C-Can I watch you? I just don’t feel like doing anything, you know? But I can watch you,” she said, feeling a bit awkward, but she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want to satisfy her man a little tonight.

“Baby, I think you should rest-“ This time, before he could dish, y/n cut him off. “Please, baby? You were so close,” Y/n said as she dragged her hand up his long and thick shaft.

“Fuck,” the man breathed out, feeling his coco twitch instantly. He was painfully hard and leaking out of his tip worse than she’d ever seen before. If he didn’t cum now, he would’ve been in his sleep.

“Fine, but don’t touch me anymore, baby. Feels too good, and I want you to rest,” Logan said as he removed her hand and replaced it with his own.

Logan began fishing his cock slowly, stroking her leftover wetness on his cock to make his hand glide smoother.

“Mhm hm,” Logan tried holding his moan in, feeling a bit off that he was the only one moaning, but when he looked to the side to see y/n’s eyes lust over him storming himself, he let them out.

“Fuck, baby — Not even touchin’ me and I feel like I’m goin’ crazy for you,” Logan said in between his grunts. Y/n placed a hand on his lower stomach, teasing him even after he said to now to uh her anymore.

“What did I say, princess? D-Don’t touch me. Just relax,” he said, but she ignored him and slightly scratched at his skin. “Augh fuck,” the man let out, hips fucking upwards as he felt himself near.

Logan’s feet curled, as his legs pointed in-word, letting y/n know he was right there. “That’s it, baby,” Y/n said, and that was it for Logan.

Logan groaned loudly, fist staying in place as his grip tightened around himself. Cum shot out of him and painted all over his thighs, abs, chest, and y/n’s hands and arms.

Y/n talked the man through his high, trying something new as she stroked his face. Logan accepted it all, softly placing his hand on her hand as he shook and caught his breath.

Logan never knew someone could make him feel this crazy with minimal touch. He’s fallen harder than he was before.

[iiwaijime]

sunshine princess — k. tsukishima

tsukishima has always cared for you, but will he ever be brave enough to show it?

cws; angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, fem!reader, petnames, arranged marriage to lovers, mentions of infidelity, swearing, not proofread i think thats all

wc; 2055

you're eighteen, freshly graduated when your parents tell you about their plans; nineteen when you meet tsukishima kei. he is calm, confident, and self-assured, a complete opposite of you — you're wondering whether it's possible to survive a fall from a skyscraper. not that you'd ever actually do it, of course.

the wedding happens a week before you turn twenty, and that night, tsukishima has the grace to at least pretend to not notice as you cry yourself to sleep. when you've almost dozed off, you hear him stumble out of bed and walk away. you wonder if he has a girlfriend, another partner, someone he truly loves, someone you're keep him away from. the freezer opens and closes. the prospect of you coming between two people too jarring to think about, so you try not to, and you are asleep when he gets back to bed.

the next morning, you're mortified at your appearance in the mirror, eyes red and puffy — much worse than expected, too. no wonder tsukishima had looked at you like that. oh, shit. you're a tsukishima too, now. you turn around, preparing to go to the kitchen to look for an ice pack — you don't remember seeing one, but it still gives you something to do instead of hating yourself and him and your entire life. when you're maybe halfway there, you bump into your new husband. he hasn't been expecting to see you here either, freezing in place with a couple of spoons in one hand. wait, spoons?

he holds them out to you awkwardly, brows furrowing as you stare at him. "what? take them, my fingers are getting cold."

you finally find your voice. "what for?"

"your eyes?" he says it like it's obvious. "i put them in the freezer last night."

oh. oh.

"t-thank you," you stammer, snatching them out of his hands, rushing back to the bathroom. maybe things aren't that bad after all.

living with tsukishima means you have to learn quickly that words are not enough — words are never enough. the first few days, it's difficult for you. when you cook something hoping he'll like it, and all you get is a cursory good, a distracted not bad.

it hurts, really hurts at first. you don't even want to be here, and the lack of appreciation makes it so much worse. that is, until, he invites his best friend, tadashi yamaguchi, over for dinner.

the two of you get along much easier than you expect — he's a complete opposite of your husband. when tsukishima is away from the table, he asks about the recipes. he's heard great things about your cooking, he says. tsukki will not shut up.

"i thought he didn't like it," you say. yamaguchi laughs at that, and that day you find out that with tsukishima, you have to look deeper than just words. you have to notice the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his appreciative hums, and the way he takes second helping and sometimes even thirds.

and then one day he approaches you, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. he clears his throat, runs one hand through his already messy blonde hair, clears his throat again. he fixes his glasses as you stare up at him expectantly. "yes?"

"canyoumakesomemorestrawberryshortcake."

"what?"

"strawberry shortcake," he gets out through gritted teeth. oh, you realise. he's embarrassed. "can you make some mo—"

"of course!" you reply before he can finish, trying to spare him the humiliation. on second though, this does mean he likes what you make. life is suddenly a little bit nicer.

tsukishima (willingly) holds your hand for the first time on your first anniversary. you refer to him as kei, now, and he doesn't really mind either. he thinks it's pretty, the way you say it. but he'll never tell you that, of course. he buys you your favourite flowers, even though it's not supposed to be a special date, because you're only married because your parents made you.

you hold the bouquet with one hand. "kei, you didn't have to!"

"i wanted to," he shrugs. "you're not the worst person to do this with."

"oh," you sigh, and the smile on your face is real, so real, and so is the way his lips quirk up — a small movement, but it's there nonetheless. "you too, kei."

you turn to go put the flowers in a vase when he grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. his hand slots perfectly into yours, and he gives it an experimental squeeze. you squeeze back, and his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "i mean it, y/n."

"i know." it's hard to suppress the grin that's trying to take over your face as you say it. "me too."

handholding becomes normal after that, whether he's holding onto you in the midst of a crowd, or the two of you are at home and he's playing with your fingers lazily. sometimes kei's doing something on his phone — he uses it one-handed, even if it makes things more difficult or slows down his typing — and your hand is in his other one. your hands might lie in the space between the two of you, fingers tangled together, or maybe he's tracing shapes, letters, words onto your palm — whatever comes to mind. either way, you like it. you like him.

nowadays, he even kisses you(r cheek) goodbye before work, and if he's extra tired after, he finds himself melting into you. your presence itself comforts him, your existence a soothing hand over his brow. he hopes you don't mind where this is going.

spoiler alert: you don't.

you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee when your husband walks into the kitchen, rubbing at his bleary eyes. he looks like he's just gotten out of bed and come here. there's something different about him that you cannot quite place, so you ignore it, half-turning to face him. "morning."

"g'morning," kei responds. his morning voice is low, rough as he walks up to where you're situated between the counter and the kitchen island. his hand falls to your waist easily as he moves you out of his way to stand behind you. his chin rests on your shoulder as he stifles a yawn. "i want some too."

you hand him your cup and he hums gratefully after taking a sip. putting it back on the counter, he wraps his arms around your waist. his body curves over yours as he lets go of himself. the weight is comforting as it blankets you — maybe the two of you can stay like this forever. you relax into the back hug; he nudges your head with his. "can't find m'glasses."

oh. so that's what's missing.

"i'll help you find them," you suggest, not questioning his rather... clingy attitude today. it's been well over two years since the two of you got married, and while he has told you on multiple occasions that you can see whoever you want, your moral code is still not low enough to partake in what can basically be termed as infidelity. even if the marriage is arranged, and there are no feelings involved — that's a lie, you know by now that you've definitely fallen for your husband, and hard — you still don't want to do anything of that sort, which has lead to you becoming quite touch-starved over time. so when tsukishima started becoming more and more physically affectionate as of late, you didn't dare question it, savouring every moment instead. over time, it's gone from fleeting touches and hooking his pinkie around yours while he tries to look unbothered, to much more confident hugs and handholding. essentially, everything a couple can do together — except kissing.

that's not to say you don't want to kiss him; you really do. when you see him chewing on his bottom lip, lost in thought, you want to kiss him. when you see him lick his lips while playing volleyball at all the games that he's started inviting you to now, even from afar you want to kiss him. and when one of his old friends from high school texts him about something stupid and his lips turn up into a pout without him noticing, you definitely want to kiss him.

but you digress.

it takes a two-minute search to find them on the floor by the bed; the floor by your side of the bed no less. the covers are more messy than you remember, even though you're sure you fixed up your part of the bed. the blankets are messy, pillows squished. the only way it could possibly be this way is if someone had been rolling around and also hugging your pillows.

you and tsukki live alone. you don't have any pets. you didn't do anything, and tsukki definitely would not — would he?

"why're you even out of bed so early?" you ask him as he falls back onto the covers. "you don't have work today."

kei flushes — actually flushes, a pretty red hue spreading across his face as he thinks of an answer. "you... weren't there," he says carefully.

"i see." your reply is just as cautious as you test the waters; after all, this is the first time whatever the two of you have going on between you has emerged from where it was comfortingly held captive in words left unspoken. "well, i'm here now."

"good," he says, and there's the slightest hint of a smile playing about his lips as he pats the space beside him. "c'mere."

oh dear. you really are sleepy, aren't you? maybe you shouldn't have gotten up this early either.

this time, you're the one waking up alone in bed — fortunately, too, because extricating yourself from the ridiculous pile of limbs that the two of you become every night is one of the least favourite parts of your day.

you find him pacing around the living room, phone held up to his ear. "that's not fucking working, tadashi! she's my wife, i can't just tell her that!"

his eyes meet yours; you raise a brow. tsukishima looks like a deer caught in headlights, before he cuts the call and puts his phone down. "hi."

"hi," you respond. anxiety twists in your stomach, a dark creature from an inky pool that crawls out and takes all of you. "what can't you just tell me?"

"nothing." it comes out too fast, and he knows he's fucked up by saying it.

"o-oh." you take it brilliantly, in stride. "well, are you having an affair, or something?"

you try to play it off as a joke, but the fear and insecurity is pathetically apparent in your voice. "i don't mind if you are—"

"i'm not!"

"it's totally okay if you are! that was part of our agreement, right?"

kei groans. he's not sure whether he should be put off or attracted by the way you're hell-bent on lying your way through this. "i swear i'm not, y/n."

"then?"

he swallows harshly. oh well, now it never. "come sit?"

you comply quietly. if not an affair, then what? technically, it doesn't count as one, you have to admit. but still, what was all of that affection for, then? to soften the blow?

"i like you," he whispers. his hands twist around each other nervously, knuckles white. "i know this is weird because we're fucking married, but i do—"

"okay," you breathe. "okay, me too."

you've thought about kissing kei tsukishima way more than you should. and when his tongue slips out to wet his grinning lips and his hand brushes your hair away and splays out to hold your face in one fluid motion, you especially want to do that. so you do.

you like being in love with him. when the two of you are glued together, when he absentmindedly traces iloveyous onto your palm, when he draws hearts on your shoulders with his thumbs. when he becomes much more vocal about how much he loves you, exactly. now, you even get to hear him say it out loud.

"i love you," he says, kissing your pajama-clad shoulder. "my sunshine princess."

"fuck's that?" you ask him, laughing, but you like it all the same.

"you're that," he replies, and refuses to elaborate.

as it turns out, you like him being in love with you too.

been on that married couple shit lately thanks mom ig. my parents also used to call me somethinf along the lines of sunshine/little miss sunshine when i was a kid bc i was so happy. not so me now but ill take it:)

chest hurts when i inhale like stopppp.

anyways 2:30am so i'll sleep now. lot of care, take love.

also ive been stuck at 499 for hours now so what should i do for 500

tags !! @akaakeis + @smiithys (gen taglist open!!)

[darlingbabyboo]

Could you please make a part 3 of tr x bimbo reader with Hanma, Souya and chifuyu, please?? Have a great day or night <333

Note: I love this request! I thought ppl wouldn't like bimbo reader and I'm so happy that ppl are receiving it well :) These are such good characters too. I added a few people since I got to this late (also Hanma's is a little nsfw). Part 1 (Draken, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Baji, Smiley, Mucho) Part 2 (Kazutora, Izana, Bonten! Mikey)

"You're my angelic slut!"

♡ Even more Tokyo Revengers and their bimbo gfs ♡

Hanma Shuji

Oh my god I thought Smiley would be bad but this man would be a menace with a bimbo!gf

He lies to you on a daily basis bcs he knows that you'll believe him

He will be saying shit like 'recent studies show 🤓☝️' completely out of his ass bcs he loves the look you give him

Your bright eyes look to him, captivated with all the lies that he's feeding you

He thinks that your stupidity is hot af and the stupider you get the harder he is

Do not trust this man to help you shop bcs he will be giving you some floss as a top and and lacey underwear bottoms okay

And for my ladies who are bimbos but still like to cover up don't worry he'll give you the flashiest shit ever that probably says property of Hanma on the back

He loves you okay but be wary around this boy

"Ow babe, you know that hurts."

You eyes widen in horror, ripping your hands away from tracing the ink on his hands, "really?" You whisper.

He nods, sagely with his fake wisdom, "yeah, every few months the pain from tattoo comes back, when you touch me it hurts like a bitch."

"Oh, I- baby I didn't know!" You tear up, hating the thought of hurting Shu in any way possible, "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you!"

He nods, pulling you into his chest to calm your sniffles, "it's okay babe, you didn't know." He pretends to think, "and there might be a way to help me..."

You look at him, wide eyes looking to him and nod eagerly.

"Well... kisses always work."

"And it won't cause you pain?"

"None at all pretty girl."

"Okay!" You smile, peppering kisses on his hands, before cupping his face and pressing your lips against. He deepens the kiss, moving you so you're straddling his lap and grinding against his growing bulge.

He sure got lucky with you, huh?

Chifuyu Matsuno

He's so flustered at the sight of you

He's pretty confident in himself but he never actually expected to get a gf

Since you're his first one he kinda has no idea what to do with you

He rly doesn't want to mess things up

He doesn't even register the fact that you're 'slutty' bcs all he knows is that you're the hottest person that he's ever met in his life and he has absolutely no idea how to function without you

He worries so much but he's such a 10/10 boyfriend

Gets most of his ideas from manga but they usually get messed up because you would not get a clue if it walked up to you and gave you its number

Chifuyu will say something like, 'my heart is forever yours' and you're about call an ambulance bcs you think he's having a heart attack

Pray for him he's doing his best 🙏🏾

Certified good boi so he does his best to make you smarter but my mans is not God

He knows that you're a lost cause but he's gonna keep trying fr bcs he loves you

But he has a tendency to get distracted...

"And if 4 plus 4 is 8 and 4 times 4 is 16 then 4 squared is..." He watches you bite your lip and turn your wide eyes to him, hoping that he'll fill in the blanks.

He sighs, "baby, you're not gonna learn anything if I keep helping you."

"But 'fuyu!" You protest, throwing yourself across his lap, and jutting your lip out, "I don't get it without you explaining it for me!"

"That's the problem..."

Your pout deepens and you suddenly sit up straight. He blushes when you place your hands on the side of his face.

"I don't get it 'fuyu, more kisses pls."

He should refuse because he loves you more than the world itself but he knows that you're jackshit at math. His eyes look down at your puckered lips and he folds, moving you gently and pinning you to the bed.

When the both of you lock lips he knows nothing is going to get done today.

Souya (Angry) Kawata

We got another flustered boy here

It's made even worse bcs he was not the one who confessed to you

Smiley told you bcs he got sick of his constant ranting about how beautiful and kind and pretty you were

Angry hates his brother and loves him for it bcs you embraced him in a hug that got him feeling high for days

He worships you completely

Your slutty outfits

Perfect queen 🥰🥰🥰

He making homemade food for you for breakfast lunch and dinner

Compliments you all the time bcs that's what you deserve

Can you tell I have a favourite

He is in love with you so much and will not tolerate any sort of slander towards you

You best hope that someone doesn't call you stupid bcs they will be jumped by the entire fourth division he is not fucking around when it comes to you

He doesn't even take that shit when it comes to his brother

No one will talk bad about you under his watch

"Damn, your girl dumb as hell."

He looks to you. As of now, you're jumping up into the trees, attempting to catch a cat that got stuck up there from yesterday's storm. It's a noble attempt, if not a bit ruined due to the fact that you're ignoring the ladder of branches at the side of the tree that would help you get to the cat.

That wouldn't even be so bad if you weren't also neglecting to ask one of the neighbor's for a ladder, especially the one who has a ladder leaning against their front door.

He turns back to Smiley, scowling at the insult, "don't talk about her like that." Hands curling into fists, no matter what you do he can't stand the thought of you being disrespected.

Smiley holds his hand up, not in the mood to get his faced bashed, "fine... but you should really go help her."

He looks back to you, seeing that you've now started to meow to the cat, trying to convince it to come down by itself.

He can't stop the smile creeping up.

He's so in love with you.

Ran Haitani

You would assume that he'd be a menace but he's surprisingly sweet

Most people assume that he's with you bcs he wanted some arm candy but he's really just in love with you

Rindou is the unfortunate witness to how obsessed Ran is about you

When Ran sees you're being a dumbass all he does is smile and do his best to answer the question

He loves when his girl starts asking him how he can tell if it's AM or PM

He thinks you're too adorable

His love is not an act okay

He lives sleeps and breathes you

Half the words out of his mouth have to do with you bcs he thinks you're just so amazing

Rindou stops himself from screaming when he sees Ran leaning against the kitchen counter. The last time he caught Ran awake in the middle of the night the other had almost skinned him alive.

A Ran that just woke up from a nap was not a good Ran.

He relaxes when he sees you move to Ran's side, offering him some hot chocolate. Ran would never expose you to his violent side. "Thank you angel," He says as he accepts the drink, taking a sip and placing his arm around your waist.

"Ran..." You start, and Rindou can't wait for whatever bullshit you're going to spew this time.

"Yeah angel?"

"Why does your tattoo keep changing?"

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at his arm. Experimentally, he flexes it.

"It happened again!" You exclaim as his muscles tense, art rippling with the muscle.

Rindou has no idea how he deals with you sometimes. You're sweet, you're just... something else.

Ran doesn't react to the strange question, only offering a half-hearted shrug. He runs a hand through his hair, "I think it's because my skin stretches as I flex or something... and the tattoo is on my skin so it's affected too." He watches you, wondering if the answer is satisfactory.

You beam at the response and curl into him, placing your head on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

Rindou slinks back upstairs and tries not to throw up. He hates being around you two.

Hakkai Shiba

It's a miracle how Hakkai even started to talk to you

It was a struggle for everyone involved

Everyday Yuzuha and Mitsuya were considering jumping off a window more and more bcs every interactions you had went like this

'How are you Hakkai!'

'...'

'That's nice to hear! My day went well too, are you going to the festival tomorrow?'

'...'

Bitch is like this on the outside 😐

On the inside he's 🥰😍😘💕💓❤️

And Mitsuya and Yuzuha have to listen on like 🙃

Yeah Hakkai she is beautiful and her dress was rly nice today and she's the kindest girl in the world why don't you tell her that

His confession was so awkward but my man's had to do smth bcs he's not the only one who wants you

"H-hey," He calls your name, wincing when you direct your eyes to him. His stomach twists, he needs to do this he needs to do this.

You beam at him, "Hakkai! What's up? You don't usually talk to me like this."

Yeah, he doesn't. He's completely out of his comfort zone here. He really should have asked Taka-chan to be here to support him. He looks down to avoid making eye contact but is met with your plump thighs.

He swallows.

"A-are you going to the f-festival with Akihiko?"

You tilt your head, "no, why would you think that? Me and him are just friends!"

Akihiko has not been subtle about about talking about how attractive he's found you and how much he would love to have you as your girlfriend. This includes wrapping his arms around your waist and calling you 'wifey'.

"He flirts sometimes," You laugh, "but we're just friends."

Sure, and he just wants to kill him.

"Wouldyouliketogowithme?" He blurts out, flinching when everything is out. He watches your eyes open wide, mouth falling open. He's so embarrassed, of course this wouldn't work he should have kept his mouth shut-

"Of course I wanna go Hakkai!" He catches you as you jump up to wrap your arms around his neck. His face turns even redder when you smack a kiss on his cheek. "I'd love to!"

"C-cool." He says knowing that the this moment will be replaying in his head on the walk home.

Seishu (Inupi) Inui

Y'all are complete opposites bcs while he's off being brooding you're being your bright and sunny self giving a hug to anyone who asks

Koko wonders everyday how you two started dating but love is love

You two have the best fashion tips for each other, truly a couple that uplifts each other <333

My man treats you like you're not the dumbest bitch on Planet Earth

Inui is a feminist (when he threatened Yuzuha he did that for the women's rights movement okay)

So he knows that you have great value even if you're not smart in a conventional sense

He will pound anyone into the pavement if someone starts to act a fool okay

Inui brings knives to fist fights if you don't think he'll pull out a glock for the person he's completely obsessed with you're insane

"Inui, how do we know that we're on Earth?" You question, head tilting to the side, looking to him waiting for an answer.

He doesn't sigh, he knows you're genuine about this and he would hate to embarrass you. He raises an eyebrow for clarification.

"I mean- how do we know we're not on Mars?" You eyes bug out, "what if we've been on Venus all along and we don't even know it!"

He hums but stops when someone snickers beside them. He tenses, already reaching in his pocket. "You got something you want to say?" He snarls.

The guy, some dumb lackey, smirks, "your bitch know how stupid she is?" He looks over to you and checks you out not-so subtly, "good thing she's hot."

He pulls out the knife and presses it against the other's neck. "At first I was going to hurt you but now I'm going to fucking kill you." Who cares about the rules about in-fighting, no one's going to talk to you like that and get away with it.

"Inui..." You ask innocently, watching the two with concern.

"Look away darling, okay, I gotta deal with this piece of shit."

[eilishsmuse]

no need to persuade

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. at a dinner party for one of billie’s close friends, she pulls you away for a little bit. little do you know she just means a little alone time.

cw. alcohol, swearing, making out, teasing, no smut (sorry not sorry), billie has her little slutty glasses on, billie is a little cutie patootie

soundtrack. generous – doja cat

fer yaps. don’t be mad y’all but this is a little filler for right now. i’m gonna release the other angst fic on friday 😕

Laughter. Chatter. Music. Food.

It was a nice atmosphere. One of Billie's close friends had invited the two of you over to a dinner party in their backyard, and the two of you happily accepted the invitation.

You sat at the long dinner table, surrounded by many of Billie's close friends, and chatted with them all while sipping on some white wine. Claudia and Finneas were both sitting across from you, talking about a movie night they wanted to have with Billie and you.

A double date, Claudia called it.

As you talked with Claudia, you felt Billie lay a hand on your shoulder, making you tense up slightly.

"Hi baby."

Your voice was gentle and sweet, leaning back to look up at Billie and give her a small kiss at the corner of her mouth, followed by a small smile.

"Hi mama," Billie smiled.

"I'm gonna steal her away from you for a little bit, Clauds."

Claudia gasped in fake betrayal, but nonetheless, she let the two of you go and continued to chat at the dinner table. Billie then took your hand in hers and led you into the house, making small talk, asking if you were enjoying the party or not.

As you answered Billie's questions, she pulled you into what seemed like a library-slash-office situation. Pinning you up against the door softly with a smile, her hands finding your waist and gripping softly.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

A smile plays on your lips as your hands travel to the sides of Billie's face, "Yes. Many times."

There was a comfortable silence, and the only sound was the laughter and chatter from the dinner party.

You let a soft smile play on your lips as you looked at her blue eyes through her glasses, which she'd worn a lot more recently.

"Why'd you steal me away?"

Your hands tuck back a piece of Billie's hair behind her ear. Voice gentle

Billie gave a soft hum as she tilted her head into your hand instinctively.

"Hmm, I think you know why," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck softly, her breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

Her hands moved slightly from your hips to wrap her arms around your waist, holding you closer to her.

A small, quiet giggle left your lips as Billie's lips connected to your skin. Tilting your head to give her better access.

"Just wanted a little alone time with you, baby,"

Billie muttered, her lips now connecting to your neck in a trail of feather-light kisses. They were gentle and innocent at first, but they soon began to get more eager and desperate, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin.

"Besides, everyone was getting on my nerves."

A small hum left your lips as you closed your eyes at the nice feeling of having Billie share some attention towards your neck. Your breathing slowed, and you sighed in contentment.

“You don’t mean that.”

Billie chuckled against your skin, continuing to leave light bite marks on your neck.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she mumbled, pulling back slightly to pull the collar of your shirt down so she could leave a hickey.

"You just taste really good."

A quiet whine left your lips at Billie's words, and you sighed again. This time your sigh was uneven and your legs grew weak.

"Billie."

Your voice was soft and low, eyes still closed, fighting to open to look at her before the two of you did anything in this office that'd make anyone blush.

Your voice was music to Billie's ears. She loved the quiet whine that left your lips, the heavy sighs you would give in between each kiss she bestowed.

But what she loved the most was whenever you would say her name. The way it slipped off your tongue so effortlessly, like a plea, a whisper for her to take you.

Billie let out a quiet hum at the sound of your voice, and pulled back to look at your face, admiring your closed eyes and parted lips.

"God, you look so good like this, baby," Billie muttered, her eyes roaming your face, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath.

"So beautiful, I'm so lucky you're mine,"

Billie then moved one of her hands and gently traced the side of your face, her fingers running across your jawline before moving to your lower lip.

With the left over courage you had, you got a hold of Billie's collar and pushed her back to a couch that was in the middle of the office.

You walked toward her and straddled her hips, your white skirt hiking up in the process. Hands cupping Billie's face and leaning down to finally kiss her soft, plump lips. Her lips sweet with some fruity flavor, probably the punch they were serving in the backyard.

Billie's mind was in a frenzy. One moment she was being the dominant one, and the next, you had her pinned down on the couch, straddling her hips in that pretty little skirt of yours.

Billie let out a quiet gasp in surprise, her hands automatically finding their way to your thighs, giving them a light squeeze. She could feel the fabric of your skirt riding up as you straddled her, and it took all of her control to keep her mind from wandering to impure thoughts.

But those thoughts seemed to disappear as soon as you kissed her. The taste of the wine still lingering on your tongue mixed with your natural sweetness, and she couldn't help but let out a quiet moan against your lips.

Billie's hands then slowly made their way underneath your skirt, hiking it up further, her cold rings against the soft skin of your thighs.

"Mmm."

The moan that left your lips was soft and eager. Your body was fully pushing itself into Billie's grip and touch.

You tilted your head to kiss Billie better, slid one hand up her head and laced your hand into her hair. Her cap falling off in the process, landing on the floor behind the couch with a small thud.

Not paying any mind to the cap and letting your tongue explore Billie's mouth, wanting and needing more of her taste.

Your eager moan went straight to Billie's core, making her squeeze your thighs again in a desperate attempt to keep her control. But as you pressed yourself against her, and let your tongue into her mouth, all thoughts of restraint went out the window.

One of her hands that was on your thigh quickly found its way to your hips, her grip firm as she pressed you even closer against her, her own tongue meeting yours in a passionate battle for domination.

The taste of wine and your natural sweetness was like a drug to her, and she couldn't get enough. She needed more. She needed all of you.

Without warning, Billie then suddenly sat up, a hand still on your hip and the other on the back of your neck, keeping you close to her.

"God, you taste so good, mama," she muttered against your lips, her voice low and raspy, "can't get enough of you,"

A moan left your lips and reverberated against Billie's lips at her words. Your hips bucking into her lap harshly in search for any friction.

Billie then began to plant kisses along the skin of your jawline and neck, working her way down to your collarbones.

"You're driving me crazy, baby," she muttered again, giving the skin of your collarbones a gentle bite, "you just look so good in this damn skirt."

A loud smack was then heard throughout the room as Billie's hand came in contact with your ass.

A half whine and groan left your mouth, throwing your head back softly and pushing Billie further into your skin.

At the sound of your whine and the feeling of you pushing yourself against her, Billie let out a quiet growl.

"You're such a tease," she hissed quietly, nipping and sucking on your collarbone, her hands still exploring your body, finding the soft flesh that lay underneath your skirt. Squeezing.

Billie's hands were everywhere. It was like she couldn't get enough of you, like she needed to touch every inch of your skin.

"Such a good girl, baby," she murmured against your collarbone, "so perfect."

“Dinner’s ready!”

The loud voice was heard from the backyard and caused both Billie and you to stop your actions.

A soft laugh left your lips at both of your reactions, cupping Billie’s face gently.

Billie groaned at the sound of her friend's voice, her head dropping to your shoulder in frustration.

"Do we have to?" she muttered, her voice muffled against your skin.

You lifted Billie's head off your shoulder and gave her a small smile, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips.

"Yes. I'm hungry."

Her lips were red and slightly swollen, her clothes were slightly ruffled, and her glasses were crooked and not fully on her face like they were supposed to be. The sight made you giggle and you carefully fixed the glasses on her face.

"But I'm still hungry too," Billie mumbled, her voice still whiny, but a small smile began creeping on her lips.

As you fixed her glasses on her face, Billie just sat there and let you, her eyes watching your every move. She then looked back up at you, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Damn it, I'm hungry for you."

You shook your head at Billie with a smile, rubbing her cheeks with your thumbs absentmindedly.

"You can wait till after the party."

Billie huffed at your response.

"That's too long," she whined, tilting her head and pouting slightly, "I can't wait that long. I'm starving."

"Shut up!" You exclaimed with a loud laugh.

You got off her lap and extended your hand for her to get up too and follow you back to the party.

Billie groaned and rolled her eyes, pouting a little but took your hand anyway.

"You're no fun," she grumbled playfully, standing up.

Billie reluctantly took your hand, letting out a final sigh.

"Fine. But as soon as this party is over, I'm absolutely ravishing you."

A laugh left your lips as you leaned to kiss Billie.

"You're such a weirdo."

Billie chuckled at your comment.

"Maybe. But you love me."

She intertwined her fingers with yours, and began to lead you out of the library-slash-office and back to the party.

‧₊˚✩彡

fer yaps!!!

amoooooo!!! 😫