#pls i jut want to pass

[myartsing]

Drunk Chuuya chilling in a field five feet apart cus

[queenendless]

🍑 TIME

A/n: The twerk GIFS got to me! All credit for the GIFS involved goes to @screampied for the Gojo and Sukuna ones, @heian-era-housewife for the Shiu Kong one, @mahgyu for the Geto one, and @blkkizzat for the Toji one. THNX U ALL for the glory that is JJK TWERKING~!

🔞 MDNI CONTENT. JJK men twerking for their lives, sub!JJK men x dom!GN!reader, ass cheeks clapping, ass slapping, ass marking, ass eating, ass abuse, cum time, impromptu ass piece. Also first time writing Sukuna and Shiu so go easy on me.

©️ PLEASE DONT PLAGIRIZE, COPY, TRANSLATE, EDIT, REPOST, AND ETC TO MY FAN WORK. Rather like comment reblog share and follow cause I personally want to reach close to 1k follows on this blog by the end of the year pls n thnx.

SYPNOSIS: OH, TWERKING IN YOUR FACE, BIG ASS MISTAKE~

GOJO with his cheeky ass grin growing every passing moment you demanded he strip those skinny pants down. Boxers included. Shameless heathen. Hanging over the bed's edge as you straddle his skinny thighs. You drum those bare melons like your own personal bongos. Granted, your cheeky bastard asked for it. And those loud passionate mewls of his earned him your red hand prints on his rippling hills. Literally chewing on them peaches came right after, your nose poking out of his ass crack while your mouth sucked his asshole, having him come one too many times against the strewn sheets to both your likings. Stroking his veiny coated dong between his lower valleys made it that much more tasty to suck him off, with his cock cumming again in your very grasp.

"Ohhh, honey loves my buns~! Yes you do – AAAAAH~!"

GETO bashfully blushes, his veiny knuckles pressed hard to his mouth to muffle his grunts and moans of painful pleasure as you spanked, clawed and teethed on those supple succulent peaches quite insistently. This cult head laid on his side along the mat covered platform, clawed the sheets with his free hand as his legs spasmed with those poofy ass pants hung off his calves like pooled up velvet. The ministrations your tongue gives drives him mad. Slobbering and slithering into his hole quite deeply with skillful strokes before suckling downwards. Like his pecs, his peaches smothered your face cheeks. Teasingly nipping at his leaky balls had his dong spasm and spurt in your face. You licking his cum off your face right into his had him squirt longer and harder.

"D – Darling~! Don't ever st — stop – AAH~!"

TOJI the physically gifted super human slash sorcerer killer that he lazily splays along the couch on his ripped tum tum, his ass practically jutting out right in your burning face, browsing his phone casually. Only to literally crush it in two with his giant beefy hand. Straddling his hips, you press his form into the cushions, as you knead and massage his chiseled cheeks, digging your nails in, before sucking aggressively to the point where your lip imprints are scattered along his now reddening bruised skin. His hips buckle sporadically right into yours but with such steel restraint not to literally shoot you up into the ceiling. The couch cushions however were torn to shreds as his stream of feral profanity fills the air as does his guttural carnal shouts of fervor.

"FUCK baby~! Starving for me already huh — NGH SHIT~!"

SUKUNA the literal King of Curses would be as amused as he would be resting his head atop two folded arms along his Malevolent Shrine, letting you lay atop him while you smack his cheeks together just to hear his skin clapping. On top of biting, tugging on his skin between your teeth, and nuzzling them fine giant melons had you on Cloud 9. His other two arms would possessively gripped on your hair to tug on now and then as well as fondle and smack your own bare tussy, his mouths popping out of his palms to layer bloody bite marks on you to get even. Raunchily making out with his a-hole had his giant cheeks suffocate your face, nearly passing out in the process from the light headed state you were left in his clapping cheeks freed you just to smack his double dripping dongs in your face to shower you in cum to lick off yourself. Guess he did get excited.

"Oh human~ To think you would react to that so sinfully~ Interesting~"

SHIU the mediator of dealings between the shady and the shadiest should have known you'd be down for a show and what it would entail at the end. The burnt out cig between his lips would fall out. Strewn across his marble work desk, you lounged in his rolling desk chair as you massaged and groped his peaches to loosen up his fatigued state. Leaving deep imprints engrained into mounds blushing in thanks. Too much workload means easily becoming mush in your titilating touch. Rutting within his fist now coated in creamy thickness as it dripped down his work pants pooled around his ankles. Wiping up some cum from his fist to your fingers, wiping it along his crack, to suck it up sloppily, including right up his hole. That got him moaning out passionately.

"Mmm~! Love, please don't let up now~! So GOOD~!"

[syeren]

“How they would comfort you” — JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.

GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3

________

GOJO

gojo is so unserious please

if we’re talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.

atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:

angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing

“Please?”

“No.”

“C’mooon—“

“I said no.”

Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. “You’re no fun.”

You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours… You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well… You had hope, atleast.

“I’m literally having the shittiest day and you—“

He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re hopeless.”

The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldn’t lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojo’s unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.

“W-Why the… Just why?” You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.

“I would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.”

“Fuck you.”

________

NANAMI

the BEST comforter, hands down

tbh i’ll say this honestly rn,,, i wasn’t a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better

puts YOU firsthand, no objections

if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands

“I can take care of myself, y’know?” you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanami’s strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.

He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.

“One cough and you think this is the end of the world!”

“That one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,” he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.

“You always think you can handle yourself,” he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. “If you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that… However…”

He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.

“… At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.”

________

MEGUMI

this hoe istg

hoe in a loving way by the way, pls don’t track me down

BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. it’s charming, to say the least.

it’s like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didn’t even notice them at first

You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.

“We’ve been walking for ages,” he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.

“No wait— Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?” you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.

A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.

“Hurry up. I found the café you were trying to find.”

You didn’t notice the same café’s address was in his phone’s search bar, though.

________

YUJI

LORDDDDDDD

golden retriever boyfriend right here

so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot

i feel like he’d be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you

You were over at Yuji’s house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasn’t going so well.

“Fuck!” you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. “I got the same character pull again!”

Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you weren’t so lucky.

“There’s no hope…” You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.

“Can I try?” he asks with a wide, toothy smile.

You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. “I only have like… One pull left, but knock yourself out.”

He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, before—

“Is this a good character?”

Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character you’ve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.

“Huh?!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling over— One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.

“I’m guessing he’s good! Judging that reaction of yours—“

“Fuck off,” you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.

________

an; so basic but so cute 🫶

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Can you make the next part of flower among the stone pls? If so thank you very much ( :

hehehheheh I can't help but stir the pot.... Hope you enjoy!

To Wonder at the Stars

This balcony was one of the few places in Khazad-dûm where the sky was visible. It was narrow and built of solid stone, jutting out high above the cavernous halls below. From here, the horizon seemed distant, an endless stretch of mountains that cradled the dwarven kingdom like a fortress. But tonight, the stars hung low, bright and cold, as if they too were peering down to see what had become of this once unshakable realm.

You sat with your knees drawn to your chest, the chill of the stone seeping through the thick layers of your gown. In your lap rested the half-finished letter you had started and abandoned more times than you cared to count. The ink had dried, but the words felt hollow—desperate, even. And still, there had been no reply.

Elrond’s silence gnawed at you. He had always been steady, a voice of reason and kindness, but now? Weeks had stretched into months with nothing but unanswered letters. You had tried to convince yourself that the messengers were delayed, that the mountain passes had slowed them, but doubt crept in like shadows at dusk.

Had something happened in Eregion? Or worse—had he simply chosen to forget?

A gentle hum pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Disa stepping onto the balcony, her skirts trailing softly behind her. She carried a small lantern, its warm glow chasing away the gloom. Her dark eyes met yours, and the sympathy in them made your chest ache.

"I thought I might find you here," she said, setting the lantern down before sinking onto the stone beside you. She leaned back against the railing, her arms crossing as she gazed up at the stars. "Brooding under the open sky again? It seems to be becoming a habit."

You managed a faint smile but said nothing. The weight of silence hung between you until Disa sighed and nudged your shoulder gently.

"You’ve written him again, haven’t you?"

You nodded, folding the letter shut. "And still no answer."

Disa hummed thoughtfully. "You said it yourself—the mountain passes are treacherous this time of year. Messengers can be delayed. Or perhaps he is busy with matters of state." She paused, her tone lightening. "Or perhaps he’s just fretting over the elwinglir and whether it’s thriving under your care."

You huffed a soft laugh at that. "It’s thriving better than I am."

"Nonsense." Disa shifted, turning to face you more fully. "You’re strong—stronger than most elves I’ve met, and that includes a certain highborn herald of Gil-galad." Her lips quirked into a smile, but it faded just as quickly. "You’ve endured much, my friend. More than many could bear. And you’re still here, standing tall. Don’t let his silence make you think otherwise."

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat. "It’s not just his silence," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It is the King. He is changed since receiving the ring. He’s restless and guarded—as though something is always pulling at him. And no one will speak of it, not even him. I can feel it, Disa. Something is wrong."

Disa’s expression softened, her hand reaching out to rest over yours. "I know," she said quietly. "Durini and I feel it too. The King carries burdens he won’t name, and it weighs on all of us." She hesitated, then squeezed your hand. "But you don’t bear this alone. And Elrond… he wouldn’t abandon you. Not after all this time."

You wanted to believe her—needed to believe her. But the ache in your chest remained, as heavy as the stone walls around you.

Disa stood, offering her hand. "Come inside. You’ll catch your death sitting out here, and the halls feel colder without your laughter. Besides, Durin will think I’ve let you sulk for too long and give me one of his looks."

You let her pull you to your feet, but as you turned to follow her inside, you cast one last glance toward the horizon. The stars seemed farther now, as though retreating beyond your reach.

And yet, somewhere beyond the mountains, you imagined Elrond looking up at the same sky. Perhaps he was as troubled as you were. Perhaps he had his own unanswered questions.

Or perhaps—and the thought stung—you were already fading from his world.

+++++

The following morning, you were summoned to Durin’s chambers. Disa was already there, standing at his side with a look of quiet concern. Durin’s brow was furrowed, his fingers drumming restlessly against the arm of his chair.

"A messenger from Eregion is coming," Durin announced without preamble. "To discuss the matter of more mithril with the king."

Your breath caught, and for a moment, hope flared bright and sharp in your chest. "Elrond?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Durin’s expression darkened, but he did not answer right away. “I cannot be sure, it says only ‘messenger’. But I have no doubt it will be your elf.”

Blushing, you wave off Durin’s secretive smirk. He gestures for you to join them in the great hall outside the king's chambers when the messenger arrives.

You stood outside the king’s chambers, nerves tightening in your stomach as you waited. The moments stretched long, and you smoothed your gown repeatedly, trying to quiet the rapid beat of your heart. Elrond. It had to be Elrond. Who else would have come? Who else could have understood what this kingdom—what you—needed?

At last, the great doors swung open. Relief surged through you, but it was fleeting. Instead of Elrond, a stranger stepped through.

The figure who entered was tall and regal, with sharp features and an air of practiced elegance. His eyes gleamed like polished gold, and his voice carried a smoothness that sent an inexplicable chill down your spine as he introduced himself.

"I am Lord Annatar," he said with a bow. "I bring greetings from Eregion—and a proposal that may benefit us all."

[maverickbabes]

Can't Handle It Baby?

Can't Handle It Baby?

Aged!Up!Lo'ak Sully x female!navi!reader!

Lo'ak and Reader are both 20

Warnings: Soft!dom!Lo'ak, daddy kink, oral fem receiving, teasing, squirting, cussing, praising, use of nickname "pretty girl" "ma girl" "princess", fluff and cute funny ending

Summary: Y/n told Lo'ak that he has no game and can't make a girl cum. Lo'ak decides to prove her wrong ;)

Y/n back arches as she tries to close her legs but Lo'ak groans against her heat as he trails his hands softly up her thighs leaving goosebumps in his wake. She feels his hands grip her thighs before pushing them apart and holding them down as he teasingly bites her bud, grazing his fangs against it.

"Hm can't handle it baby?" Lo'ak hums against her heat and y/n whimpers in pleasure as she tries to lift her hips up but Lo'ak plants them firmly on the hammock. "You look so fucking beautiful like this ma girl. All spread out for daddy with your hair all messed up and your legs trembling just for me" He praises as he raises himself up and hovers over her, enjoying how her dark blue skin glowed and her amber eyes blown wide with pleasure.

Y/n closes her eyes but Lo'ak is quick to grab her chin squeezing it gently, getting her to open her eyes once more. "No closing your eyes pretty girl, I want you to look at me" He says tilting his head which makes his braids fall over his eyes. She reaches up a shaky hand and plays with the fallen braids then resting her hand against his face.

She pulls him downward and crashes her lips against his and wraps her legs around him, catching him by surprise. He moans into her mouth and juts his cock against her heat, breaking the kiss as he begins biting at her flesh while his other hand trialed up and grabs some of her braids.

In one swift motion Lo'ak was on his back looking up at y/n who was straddling his lap and looking down back at him while biting her bottom lip. She leans down and kisses his neck grazing her fangs against it, earning a groan from Lo'ak as his hands squeeze her hips before fiddling with the beads that rested against the waist of her loincloth.

"Can't handle it baby?" She mocks leaving a trail of love bites and marks from his neck and down his chest. Y/n looks up at him innocently before moving her hand under his loincloth and grabs his cock, pumping him slowly. "Don't tease me pretty girl, you know better" He moans taking a fistful of y/n braids again and pulling her up.

Lo'ak flips them over once more and hovers above y/n's small frame as he thrusts himself into her, instantly bottoming out. "Fuck!" Y/n moans as she arches her back and tries to grab at Lo'ak but he grabs her wrists and pin them above her head. "Going somewhere pretty girl?" Lo'ak teases as he slows his thrusts causing y/n eyes to roll in the back of her head while letting out small whimpers and whines.

"You feel so good ma girl so fucking good" he moans quietly as he grabs her thigh and lifts her leg up to his shoulder, going even deeper with his slow thrusts. "OH FUCK RIGHT THERE LO'AK" Y/n screams as she squeezes around his cock, practically sucking him into her and holding a vase grip on him. "That's not my fucking name" He growls as he moves his hips in a tauntingly slow pace driving y/n mad.

"Mm... Lo'ak pl..p-please" She stutters out and Lo'ak grabs her chin forcing her to look at him. "Not. My. Fucking. Name" He says each word with his hard and fast thrusts. "Daddy Daddy please I'm mm so close I erm hmm" y/n rambles out as he smirks in satisfaction as he releases her wrists and grabs her hips.

"That's a good girl, cum for me princess let me see how good I make you feel" He praises pounding into her relentlessly and y/n lets out a sound mix between a moan and a whine as she comes undone, him climaxing seconds later. Y/n passes out from the amount of pleasure coursing through her veins, unknowingly squirting in the process.

Lo'ak groans as he looks down and sees her juices covering his chest, some droplets running down to his v-line. "Baby hey baby wake up" He says, a hint of concern in his voice as he shakes y/n gently and she slowly opens her eyes looking up at him. "You squirted baby" He says, pride all over his face and y/n looks at his chest in disbelief, seeing her juices running down his chest.

"Holy fuck" She says embarrassed and covers her face with her hands as Lo'ak chuckles from above her. "Aw baby it's okay, it's good actually cause that means I made you feel amazing" He reassures and gently moves her hands away from her face, kissing her passionately. Y/n breaks the kiss and grabs his face, caressing his cheeks softly.

"You sure it's fine?" She asks embarrassingly and Lo'ak places his hands on hers and smiles. "Yes I'm positive baby" He assures before wrapping his arms around her, lifting her into his lap. "At least I fucked you dumb" He jokes cheekily while smiling proudly.

Y/n slaps his shoulder "Lo'ak!" she says with utter shock and he lets out a hearty laugh before tackling her to the hammock once more.

"Round two ma girl" Lo'ak says as he lays on her

"No!" Y/n giggles before letting out a shriek while her mate tackled her to the hammock before laying on top of her

[mybiasisexo]

Entangled - Part 11

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language Word Count: 8.1k Author Notes: DOUBLE UPDATE BICTHESSSS!!!!! ok this is my big sorry!!! i was gonna post this earlier today but then coachella happened lol and my priorities changed, but we're back!!! tbh....im so scared to post this 😀. Its just a yap fest if im being honest, so if youre not into that....my bad. but ok yes ill stop blabbin. l adore you all pls enjoy 😩

It’s another hour before you leave the restaurant, impossibly full and content.

The ride back is silent. Most of the crew pass out as soon as you’re on the road, Seulgi being one of them. She uses your shoulder as a pillow. It doesn’t look comfortable, but she’s drooling into your clavicle, so it must be. You can’t sleep, so you quietly watch the beautiful dark scenery, ignoring the occasional prickles on your skin from being watched.

Once you’re back at the hotel, you start saying your goodbyes in front of the van. Everyone’s leaving at different times, so it makes sense to do your farewells now while you’re all present.

It’s bittersweet.

Jongdae is the first to approach you, collecting you tightly into his arms.

“Tell Eunhee I missed her this weekend, and congrats,” you tell him.

“Will do and thank you.”

He squeezes the shit out of you, making you yelp in pain. In retaliation, you smack his shoulder and he hisses, escaping to the next person before you can strike again.

You’re rolling your eyes as Jongin makes his way over, chuckling at his friends’ silly antics.

“He’s mean,” you whine.

“I know,” he coos as he hugs you. You instantly relax in his comforting arms. He really should start selling these things.

“It was good seeing you,” he says, making you sway.

“You too,” you say. “I’m sorry for getting you in this mess.”

“Don’t be.” He repeats. He tightens his arms. “It was bound to happen. I still believe it can work out.”

You smile pathetically. As if he can sense it, Jongin kisses the top of your head before separating.

“Make that runway your bitch,” you tell him. He smirks and bows in thanks.

Baekhyun quickly replaces him, pulling you into a firm hug.

“You’ve made this trip far more eventful than it needed to be,” he says in your ear.

“It wasn’t my intention,” you huff into his shirt.

He chuckles. “Look, I know things didn’t end on a good note, but I promise….” He leans back far enough to look into your eyes and says your name. “It can be. Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you, okay?”

The urge to cry hits you hard and you give him a watery smile. “Thank you, Baekhyun. For everything. I’ve gained some respect for you.”

His jutting jaw is the only acknowledgement he gives your last statement. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want my friends to be happy.”

“You’re hogging her.” You’re being yanked away from Baekhyun and he lets go without a fight, waving goodbye before heading inside the hotel.

“Do we have to say our goodbyes right now?” You ask, staring up at the best friend who you aren’t going back to a shared apartment with. “I’m going to cry.”

Sehun sighs before wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t be a baby.”

You’re already fighting tears, and the lump in your throat grows larger. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I know,” and he sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to get choked up. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll visit Seoul soon. Most likely for Jongdae’s baby shower. I'll even bring Kyungsoo. I know you’ve been curious about him.”

You laugh through your now falling tears. “It’s not me who’s been curious about your little friend. I’m sure Seulgi will be pleased to hear she’ll finally be introduced.”

“Why do you think I’ve been stalling for so long?”

You share a laugh. “Okay. Jongdae’s baby shower isn’t that far away. I can handle that.”

“That works for you?” He asks sarcastically.

“It does. Just make sure to not leave without saying goodbye again, okay?”

He groans like you’re inconveniencing him, but whispers into your hair. “I won’t.”

Satisfied, you break the hug. Now that your arms are free, you wipe your damp face, laughing at how ridiculous you are. Sehun sucks his teeth in faux disapproval. Shaking his head, he lifts a hand in an attempt to help dry your face, but you knock it away. You’re about to tell him to screw off, but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

You turn towards the sound and startle slightly when you see Chanyeol standing a few steps away. His hands are deep in his pockets as his eyes flicker between Sehun and you. It’s then you notice just how quiet the portico has become, and check your surroundings. Only the three of you and Seulgi are left outside the hotel, everyone else retiring to their rooms. Seulgi is a few feet away, as though she was also leaving but decided to linger for a bit. When your eyes lock, she throws you a knowing grin.

“Sehun,” she calls. “Let me buy you a shot.”

Sehun seems to catch on quickly. “Oh! Can’t say no to a free drink, can I?”

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, conveying an important message. ‘Talk to him and get your closure.’

He pats you before sauntering over to Seulgi, throwing an arm around her shoulders to drag her into the hotel.

Now alone, you give in and face Chanyeol.

There isn’t a flicker of the animosity or detachment you saw on the boardwalk the night before, and you aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. He’s admiring you, not with disgust or lust, just looking. The lack of emotion has you curious about what's going on in his head.

“Everyone’s said goodbye except us,” he finally says.

You lift an eyebrow. “Does last night not count?”

He frowns. “Do you want it to?”

“No, it’s not that!” You quickly correct. “It’s just that my decisions always hurt you in the end, so I understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

Your eyes water at the thought of going back to strangers with Chanyeol, of losing him again. But, you know you don’t deserve to ask him to stay. If he’s done trying with you, you’ll accept it without complaint. it’s the least you can do after the pain you’ve caused him these past couple days.

He turns away from you, as if he can’t stand to see your tears. One of his hands pats at his thigh as he squints at the beach in the distance.

“We’ve both made poor decisions.” he sighs heavily. “But yesterday was really really bad. I no longer know if there can be an ‘us’ after this. Maybe you're right. Maybe we’ve grown too far apart, and the people we are today aren’t able to love each other like we used to.”

He takes a deep breath and you brace yourself for his rejection. “It wasn’t until dinner that it really hit me, that today is our last day here. I don’t want to leave, to go back to Seoul, and continue living as I did before the wedding. I can’t. Not after seeing you again. I don’t want to leave Jeju with any regrets, and if we leave things like this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”  

“Me too,” you admit. “I’ll regret it too. I already regret so much.”

“Do you regret us?”

“No. Never. I regret where we are now, but I’ll never regret you, Park Chanyeol.”

Your throat tightens from the confession, hating how it sounds like a farewell on your tongue.

You swear his eyes gloss over, but he hides it quickly by turning his head to look behind him. When he faces you again, his features are under control. He tilts his head in the direction he just checked. “Walk with me?”

This is it, and you know it. The last chance with Chanyeol. The inevitable talk you’d been skirting around all weekend. Now is the chance to have your closure, and Chanyeol is giving it to you. If you decline, what is left of your bridge will be burnt for good, keeping you both on opposite ends with no chance of return.

You’re relieved that he offers to walk. When you imagine this conversation, it’s always in Chanyeol’s suite, and you’re honestly not strong enough to ever go back there. The memories are too fresh, and you have zero faith in your self control when it comes to him.

So, you eagerly agree to his request and follow him as he starts walking down the sidewalk. It’s silent as he leads you away from the hotel, taking a path that heads towards the city not too far away. Chanyeol’s steps seem sure, and it makes you wonder if he has a certain place in mind.

He answers your unasked question five minutes later, when you take notice of a faint glowing in the distance. Chanyeol throws a couple nervous glances your way, and the shift in his demeanor has you alert.

You walk a few more feet before you can fully see a white gazebo on the edge of the sandy beach. Golden fairy lights dangle off the sides, making a surreal romantic atmosphere.

You stop dead in your tracks. Chanyeol halts beside you, intently watching your reaction.

“Do you remember this place?” he asks, voice thick with controlled emotion.

You do.

You climb up the steps into the gazebo. A wooden bench wraps around the walls and vines with pink flowers curl around the thin poles connecting to the rounded roof. You stop a little before the center and turn to Chanyeol who stayed back, allowing you a moment to yourself.

“This is where you proposed to me.”

The lights reflect off his round eyes, softening them. Or maybe it’s the memory you both share. A day that you will never forget.

It was your senior trip. Come to think of it, there are many similarities to the one you’re currently on. All of your college friends came to Jeju and stayed at the same hotel, thanks to Junmyeon. You were in a different suite that time, with a different roommate. For five days, the gang ran around the city, exploring and partying. Basking in the last moments you all had before fully joining the real world. Well, Jongdae, Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Chanyeol had already graduated, but that didn’t stop them from acting like it was their last moments as well. Speaking of Chanyeol, the two of you were deeply in love by that point. You were that nauseating couple that would get lost in your own little world, gravitating around each other in your own solar system. The last day of the trip, he had talked you into having a girl’s day with Seulgi. You were hesitant, because you wanted to spend the last day with him, but he assured you that you’d have him all to yourself that night.

That was enough to have Seulgi drag you around town, taking you to get pampered with a spa and convincing you to let her buy you a dress that she was adamant you had to wear later that night. Little did you know she was in on a plan being prepared behind your back. 

When the sun was setting, you followed her to where you thought you were going to meet up with everyone else for dinner, and were confused when she dragged you to the middle of the beach. That was when you spotted the gazebo. There were pink and white balloons on the far side across the entrance. And in the center, dressed in a fancy black suit, stood Park Chanyeol.

You glared accusingly at Seulgi, who just laughed and shoved you into the gazebo. Your heart raced dangerously fast, nearly drowning out the speech Chanyeol prepared for you. It was beautiful. Chanyeol, ever the poet, poured his heart to you, tearing up as he explained his endless love and devotion.

Then he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pants. You’d later chastise him for not keeping it in its box. He held it up and it shimmered against the lights surrounding you, but it paled in comparison to the shimmering in Chanyeol’s eyes.

‘Will you continue to be the melody of my life’s song?’ He asked. ‘Will you marry me?’

You were screaming yes before he could finish his question. His smile was blinding as he slid the ring onto your finger and you pounced on him. He held you tightly, lifting you up with him as he stood, and buried his face into your neck as you both cried. You hadn’t noticed all of your friends poking around the outside of the gazebo, popping streamers and cheering as you held onto your soulmate and cried with a happiness and love you knew only a few people have genuinely felt. You were so lucky to have Park Chanyeol. You were so lucky to be loved by him….

You blink.

“That was the best day of my life,” he whispers.

“Mine too,” you admit.

You turn away, not able to handle the tenderness he carries.

He tentatively enters the gazebo, sitting on the bench near the entrance. “I stumbled across it after our… conversation last night. It felt fitting. A reminder of why we’re here.”

Indeed. This was the beginning of the end of you. It makes sense to end this trip here, to end your relationship here. If that’s what you were doing.

You wrap your arms around your stomach, holding yourself together because you’re already at your limit and know you’re about to shatter. Your back still faces Chanyeol, not ready to see the way the fairy lights warm his handsome face. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have told you where I was taking you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” you assure. It’s not a lie, but it’s not completely true. You aren’t upset with him for bringing you here. If anything, you need to see this place. You finally turn to face him and the stark difference of how he looks now compared to the last time you saw him under this roof is startling. He wore no fancy suit, only casual khaki pants and a cream button down shirt. His hair blows gently in the breeze, longer and lighter than on that day, and his expression has lost the confidence and joy that was hard to hide then. He is now a shadow of the man that proposed to you, he is a man who has lost the one thing he thought he’d have forever. “It’s just a lot.”

He nods in agreement. “Do you want to leave?”

“No. I agree with you. This is the perfect spot. We can talk here if that’s what you want.” Again, you make sure to let him know that you’re doing this on his terms. He’s in charge here. You’ll be truthful, you’ll answer any question honestly, and you’ll let him be the one to decide how this trip ends.

“Where should we start?” he asks as you make your way over to sit beside him. You make sure to leave some space, knowing how distance can skew your train of thought around him.

“Let’s start with this,” you begin. “What do you want from this conversation?”

“I just want us to not avoid each other the next time we’re in the same room.”

“You think we can be friends?” You ask, genuinely curious of his answer.

He shrugs feebly. “If that’s all we can be. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not in it at all.”

You’re not a fan of his answer. Earlier, you told him that you didn’t think you could ever be his friend, and you still believe that. The thought of him actually moving on one day, and having to watch him regard somebody else the way he did you has your heart squeezing in agony. Seeing him with Yerim has been difficult as it is, imagining him with someone he actually loves leaves you disturbed.

Tell him, the Baekhyun in your head urges. Tell him how you really feel.

You already tried to last night. You still have so much love for Chanyeol, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. There’s still too much left unsaid, blocking the path to a future that can possibly end with you back together. The ball that’s always been in your court has now rolled over onto his side, and you aren’t sure if he’s going to pick it up or kick it away and finally put this long game to rest.

But he deserves that choice. Chanyeol has been so strong for you. He’s given you up multiple times, has had his heart broken because of you far more times than you have by him. You owe it to him to choose what he wants for himself. As much as you’d rather part ways on good terms and continue living as you have–without him in your life–if Chanyeol still wants you in his, you’ll suck it up and be present. Because you know for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same with no complaint.

Still hurts like a bitch though.

Not yet, you tell your inner Baekhyun, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. You don’t need his sass right now.

“If that’s what you want,” you push through the tightening of your throat. “Then we should start off easy. How did you end up at Junmyeon’s wedding with Yerim as your date?”

He coughs a shocked laugh. “If that’s the easiest topic, we’re going to be here til the sun rises.”

You shrug a shoulder. “That’s fine with me.”

He watches you for a moment before dropping his head to look at his hands that lay limply between his parted thighs. “As soon as I got Junmyeon’s announcement, I thought of you. I knew you were going to be there, and I couldn’t shake this feeling that you were going to bring a date. The idea of seeing you being happy with your new boyfriend, while I had no one, made me sick. I began to panic, because I didn’t want to be the loser who hadn’t moved on. I wanted you to think I no longer cared. I needed a date.”

That makes you pity him a bit, and you feel bad for calling him an asshole. The intentions behind it are anything but. He was trying to protect himself, and that’s nothing to make fun of.

“And then you met Yerim.”

“And then I met Yerim.” He sinks further into the bench and your ears perk at the name. It hits you then that it’s the first time you’ve heard Chanyeol speak her name. Was he being respectful towards you by neglecting to voice the name of the ‘other’ woman in your picture? Or maybe that was his poor attempt at pretending she didn’t exist while in your presence. Intrigued, you study the way the syllables left his mouth. It’s said with contrition, and that jealous part of you that you’re surprised to still find vanishes with content.

“I don’t know if you remember,” he continues, unaware of the healing already being done to you. “But she works at the cafe near my job. If I’m being honest, I’d been going there for months and hadn’t paid her any mind. I just knew she made the best Americano I’ve ever had in my life! But, after some time, it was kind of obvious she had a little crush on me. Although I was flattered, I never pursued it because I was never interested. That didn’t stop her from being bold. She always made a point to have a conversation with me, even when they were slammed, and I guess she wore me down. Our little talks started becoming the highlights of my days, and I started paying her more attention.”

His story brings to mind a few times Yerim mentioned a cute customer to you. How wild is it that Chanyeol is the customer she’d always tell you about.

“She is funny,” you acknowledge begrudgingly. “And pretty.”

“She is,” he agrees, and you guess your jealousy hasn’t vanished after all. “But, that’s not what ultimately drew me to her.”

“What was it then?”

He avoids your gaze. “She reminded me of you.”

“Oh!” Okay, now your jealousy is officially gone.

“Yeah. Oh. The more Yerim and I talked, the more she sounded like you. Now it makes sense, because you’re close friends so you must’ve rubbed off on her. But, at the time, it really felt like I was getting a second chance. How could I not fall for her when she acted so much like you?”

Your eyebrows raise at that. You’ve never noticed your influence on Yerim, but apparently it’s strong enough to catch your ex’s attention. In a strange way, you are the reason they got together. You’re not sure how to react to the fact. Part of you is sympathetic towards them both, at the fact Chanyeol only liked Yerim because of you. But you’re also flattered and a bit proud for ruining him so much. 

Even though you think you know the answer, this conversation is all about honesty, so you have to confirm something. “Did you like her? Like that? You’ve been pretty adamant about her not being your girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t,” he’s still quick to deny. “And I didn’t. At the start I thought I did. Well, I thought I could fall for her. Maybe if we had time before the wedding to actually get to know each other outside of the cafe, I would have. But the timing was bad. She tried, she really did. But I was too distracted by what was about to happen to give her my full attention, and once I saw you, all thoughts of Yerim went out the window.”

“That’s why you kicked her out?”

“It is. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He backtracks, continuing his story where he left off. “The main reason for me being so adamant on bringing a date was to prove to everybody, including myself, that I was completely over you. But, the fact that I started pursuing someone because they reminded me of you should have been the first sign I wasn’t. Still, I ignored it, and when the wedding got brought up, I saw my perfect opportunity. She agreed all too easily.”

“Like fate.”

“It felt like that. Like it was too perfect. Baekhyun said it was a dumb idea. He told me I wasn’t going to get you back that way. I told him I didn’t want you back. As you can imagine, he didn’t believe me.”

“Did you even believe you?”

“I did,” he defends, slightly offended. “I thought enough time had passed, and thinking about you didn’t hurt as much as it had. Sure, I didn’t know if I was capable of ever loving someone as much as I loved you, and I had built some walls after us, but I was ready to try again. And I was going to prove it during dinner. I wanted to make you feel the same as I did. I figured we both could suffer a little, and I…I wanted to hurt you. But, even though I knew you were going to be there, I still wasn’t prepared for the shock of finally seeing you in person. All that bravado I had vanished the moment I saw you. Especially after I realized you did not, in fact, have a date.”

“Technically, I did,” you correct. “Seulgi was my date.”

“Should I have been worried about her?” he asks skeptically.

You can’t miss the opportunity to tease him. “A lot can happen in a couple years. Who knows? We could’ve been inlaws.”

His face pinches in disgust. “That’s a sick joke, Me….”

He lets the petname die on his tongue, unsure if that’s something he still wants to call you.

“I deserve that,” you mumble and attempt a reassuring smile. He takes one look at your stretched lips and immediately starts nervously nibbling on his own. You sense his internal battle, fighting the instinct to defend you while also agreeing with what you said.

The light atmosphere you created dissipates as quickly as it comes.

He clears his throat. “Anyways, that’s why I brought Yerim. I wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“And did you get the reaction you wanted?” You ask.

“In the grand scheme of things, I guess I did. But at the moment, I didn’t think so. It felt more like it backfired on me. That whole dinner I tried to taunt you by using Yerim, but you never took the bait. You didn’t care at all. That hurt more than I’d like to admit. Especially because your presence was eating me up inside.”

“I’m a better actress than I give myself credit for if you couldn’t see how affected I was. I pretty much went through exactly what you were afraid of happening to you, with an extra brutal layer of personally knowing the date. Trust me when I say you succeeded.”

“It doesn’t feel like a victory,” he shares. “As soon as dinner was over, I realized Baekhyun was right, bringing Yerim was dumb. I was overwhelmed with all these old resurfacing feelings, and all I could think about was you. How was I going to see you again, and what would I say when I did. I made some pretty rash decisions, like kicking Yerim out of our room because I didn’t want you to think we were sleeping together, and then forgetting to have breakfast with her the next morning like I promised because I talked to you the night before. Our conversation was proof that I wasn’t alone in these old feelings, and gave me the courage to attempt to pursue you. It wasn’t a lot, and you were really drunk, but you kept giving me this look I was very familiar with, and I couldn’t deny it if I tried.”

“A look?” You question, having no idea what he’s referring to. He’s never told you about a look before.

“Yes.” He sounds tortured thinking about it. “You get this look on your face whenever you want me to lean down to kiss you. These past few days, we’d argue, you’d tell me how wrong this situation was, and then you’d stare up at me with those eyes of yours. I could never forget that expression, it’s one of my favorites. So, I’d try to oblige you, and at the last second, you’d push me away, and I’d go back to my room and yell in frustration. It was frustrating, knowing you still wanted me, even if you weren’t aware of it, all because of the way you’d look at me.”

Hell. He really can read you like a book.

“So, you ended things with her because of the way I was looking at you?” You confirm.

“I broke up with Yerim because I was leading her on,” he corrects. “But also, I can admit that I was being selfish, and she was in the way of what I truly wanted. You. I knew with her out of the picture, you’d be less…resistant.”

“What did you expect would happen?” You implore. “You’d tell me you broke things off with her and I’d come running back into your arms? Was that the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Maybe that you’d lower your guard and stop fighting me. But, I mean, you did run back to me not long after she left….”

You narrow your eyes. “That was because of the wedding.”

“I thought we were being honest with each other?”

That shuts you up. He knows he got you there, if the smug look on his face is any indicator.

“Fine,” you relent. “I most likely wouldn’t have done that had Yerim still been here.”

He bows his head in gratitude for your honesty.

“Alright,” you drawl, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s your turn to ask me a question.”

Chanyeol inhales deeply, and you know it’s going to be a difficult one.

“Last night,” he starts, and you already dread what’s next. “You said that you couldn’t get over what happened the last time we were together.”

“I did.”

“It made me realize that I hurt you way more than I thought I did. You’d mentioned it a couple times, but I didn’t get it… not until now.”

“I may have called off the engagement,” you say. “But it was you, Chanyeol, who ultimately broke us up.”

“Is that how you see it?” He asks, a darkness creeping into his tone.

“How else am I?” You retort. “I asked to get back together and you said yes.”

“I didn’t realize….” He shook his head in denial. “I wasn’t listening.”

“I gathered,” you scoff, growing irritated. “That day I had worked up the courage to call you. It had been a year since we’d last seen each other–”

“Ten and a half months. But who’s counting?” he cuts you off to say.

“Ten and a half months,” you correct. “I felt so stupid because of that. I made such a big show of leaving you, just to beg for you back not even a year later.”

“I wouldn’t have seen it that way,” he says. “I was waiting for that call. To me, those ten and a half months felt more like years.”

“I wish I’d known that then, because I was so nervous. I feared the worst. That you would be angry at me for ending things just to come back so soon. Or worse. That you’d somehow moved on during that time, or realized that you were no longer in love with me. It was that fear that drove me to come up with a cover, an excuse to get you to come over.”

“The ring,” he realizes, jaw clenching at the grim reminder.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “I had it all planned out. I’d tell you that you needed to come over so that you could take it back, but then I’d confess and ask for another chance.”

“You could’ve just told me you missed me,” he says. “It would’ve been just as effective. Actually, more. I would’ve been there faster.”

“I couldn’t just tell you that,” you explain. “I didn’t want to come off desperate. But, I admit, using the ring was the worst thing I could’ve done. I swear I had no intention of giving it back.”

“You were very convincing in acting like it was,” he mutters. “I didn’t even have time to ask how you’d been before you were sitting it on the table. I was hoping you weren’t being serious. But as soon as I saw you, it was obvious you’d changed. It hadn’t been that long, but you were different. You didn’t want me anymore.”

“I didn’t need you anymore, Chanyeol. I still wanted you, if later that night was any indicator.”

“You couldn’t stop raving about how much better your life was now that I was no longer in it! I had to listen to you go on and on about your great new life without me, all while staring at your engagement ring. It was the first time I’d ever seen it not on your finger, and it felt like a punch to the damn gut! My heart was breaking all over again, but there was no hope to latch onto this time.”

His words are enlightening. Despite your attempts at blocking the memory, you remember that night in great detail. You remember how sweaty your palms were from the nerves, to the point you couldn’t even hold a glass of water. You remember the wave of relief that swept over you when you opened the door to see Chanyeol on the other side. You remember his expression, the conflicting emotions of love and hope, battling against reluctance and defeat. Putting the ring on the table was also due to nerves. You wanted to keep pretenses for a little longer, but the way he had zeroed in on the piece of jewelry worried you so much you began rambling.

He never took his eyes off that ring. You remember that clearly. It made you panic, and in a poor attempt to fill the silence, you started updating him on your life. You told him about the job you had just gotten that you’d been dying to get, about your hesitant plans on moving in with Seulgi, about the trips you had taken, anything to get him to react. He didn’t. By that point, you decided to get to the main reason for inviting him. You remember easing into it, telling him you had a lot of time to think about what you wanted in life, and had succeeded in your mission to find yourself. You were ready, if he was still willing. You were ready to become his wife.

He didn’t say anything. Hadn’t moved an inch.

You were positive he hadn’t blinked once during your monologue. Was he angry? Of course he was! That’s when you realized you’d made an irreversible mistake and was now living through the consequences. Maybe he didn’t want you back. Maybe you put too much faith in his love for you. Now looking back on it, you felt a lot like you do at this moment. If Chanyeol was done with you, you’d let him leave. You were going to put him first this time.

‘Chanyeol?’ you called gently. That seemed to bring him back. His eyelids fluttered and he straightened in his chair, pulling away from the ring to finally look at you. You were mesmerized by the richness of his eyes, they were prettier than you recalled, but maybe that was the unshed tears reflecting off the lights overhead. His mouth had fallen open, eyebrows lifted in a question, and you cleared your throat and forced yourself to blink, to break the intimate contact.

‘Are we good?’ You asked, voice shaking in apprehension. You were terrified of his answer, terrified of this being the end of you. Yet, you were prepared for rejection.

‘Yeah, we're good,’ he said. Not expecting that, you stared at him in shock for a moment until reality hit. He was taking you back! Instantly, you felt silly for doubting him. Of course he was taking you back. He already told you that he’d always love you. Feeling giddy with excitement, you weren’t even thinking when you reached out to him….

“I didn’t….” Chanyeol seems to also be back in that living room, reliving that dreadful day. “I couldn’t listen to you brag about your newfound happiness. It was like you were trying to hurt me. So, I stopped listening. Next thing I knew, you’re saying my name and like an idiot, I look at you. You asked me if we were good. I was confused, because you were obviously nervous, but I assumed you just wanted to leave on good terms. So, I agreed. ‘Sure, we’re good’.

….And then you kissed him.

“And then you kissed me.” His eyebrows furrow in the confusion he still feels. “And nothing else mattered after that. Not the ring, not the break up. Just you.”

Chanyeol gives you a Look of his own, and the moment turns tender.

Except all those feelings from the morning after bubbled up to the surface, and you despise the softness of his gaze. 

“That was until the morning, right?” You say bitterly. “Then I didn’t matter at all.”

“That’s not–”

“You left me!” You snap. His mouth audibly shuts at the rise of your voice. “You agreed to get back together, had sex with me, disappeared in the morning, took the ring, and blocked me on everything so that I couldn’t get ahold of you! You claim it was because you were afraid of being used, but that’s what you ended up doing! You used me, Chanyeol, and I haven’t been the same since. You destroyed me! ”

“I didn’t use you!” He pleads. “Stop looking at me like that. You told me you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” you say. “I’m just trying to understand. Was it one last fuck for old times’ sake?”

“God, no! Don’t say it like that. I’ve never ‘fucked’ you. That’s not what that night meant to me.”

“Then what did it mean?” You beg for answers. “If it wasn’t your get back, if it wasn’t you confirming our relationship. What the fuck did it mean to you?”

He meets your gaze, determination igniting within him. “It meant everything to me! That kiss may have felt like the beginning to you, but for me, it was an ending. And I had something to prove. If that was going to be our last night together, I was going to give you every last piece of me. I wanted you to feel my love deep inside your bones, so that you could never forget what it felt like to be truly loved by me. I wanted to ruin you, so that any man that touched you after would pale in comparison. I wanted you to yearn for me on lonely nights, to miss me even if it was a fraction of the loss I was going to feel. I wanted you to still want me.”

Your breathing hitches at his explanation, because you’d be damned if that’s not exactly what he did. Your body awakens from his words, desperately calling for him the way it always has. You battle with the need to pull him close and have him sink into your soul. He made sure to leave his mark on you that night, to carve a hole deep within your heart that could never regrow. You’ve felt that emptiness since, carried it unknowingly. And now that you’ve been reunited, you see that he still holds that chunk with him. Chanyeol still possesses the missing piece to your heart.

The fire inside him seems to diminish once his speech is done. Now guilt slumps his shoulders and lowers his head.

“That morning….” He licks his dry lips. “It was a lapse of judgment.” You can’t help but wonder if he’s told himself this multiple times throughout the years to rationalize his decision. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. You have to believe me. It took everything to get out of your bed, everything to touch that ring. Everything to leave your life for good.”

“But I didn’t want you to,” you confess, on the verge of tears. 

“I know,” he whispers, eyes just as glossy as yours. “I know that now. But, at the time, it was too impossible a dream to even fathom. I had to protect my heart too, you know?”

You did. He had every right to keep his guard up, even if it was at the detriment of your own feelings. 

“And trust me when I say,” he continues. “I suffered too. I hated myself just as much as you did. I still do. Knowing that I broke you so badly…. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” He says your name. “That night was no exception.”

“You literally just said that you brought Yerim to hurt me,” you point out with a sniff.

“Right.” He winces. “But, that’s the only time, I swear!”

He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them. They’re big and warm and the contact soothes you. “Had I known…. Had I listened to you that night, I would have never left. If I knew that kiss meant so much more than a goodbye, we would’ve been married the next week. It’s my fault for not listening and for leaving without an explanation. I hurt us both that day. I’ll accept that now. I’m so fucking sorry, Mel.”

Him calling you Mel again is enough to make you finally shatter. Leaning against him, you press your forehead to his chest as sobs rack your own. He pulls you into his arms, rocking you back and forth as apologies fall from his mouth. You can hear the tears he sheds.

You both cry until you’re dried out, and as the gazebo quiets Chanyeol still holds you.

Once you’ve collected yourself, you speak through a stuffy nose. “I’m sorry too.”

Chanyeol stops swaying at the sound of your voice, so you continue. “I held a lot of animosity for what you did, but I ended up doing the same thing to you.”

“You were confused–”

“It’s no excuse. I left because I was scared, but I still hurt you.” You pull back so that you can show him your sincerity and finally own up for the things you did. “I’ve been playing with you this whole trip, because of my indecisiveness. I’ve been leading you on for days, pushing and pulling away, and you don’t deserve that. No matter our past, you don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you.”

“Thank you,” he accepts with a sniff.

“No, thank you,” you counter. “For explaining yourself, and for giving me a chance to explain myself as well. You didn’t owe me anything after what I did to you.”

“You didn’t do anything–”

“You don’t have to protect me anymore, Chanyeol. We’re past that now, aren’t we?”

He grows contemplative at that. “After our night together, much like when you kissed me all those years ago, I assumed we were back together.” As he speaks, he dries your wet face with his hands. You close your eyes, savoring his touch just in case it’s the last. “So when you denied it at the beach, I was hurt. I didn’t understand your reluctance, and I couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with me that you kept rejecting me. It wasn’t until after our fight, when I kept pushing and pushing and yet you still didn’t want me, that I took off the rose tinted glasses and reality set in. Seeing you again, at the place where our love was at its peak, it was easy to forget all the ways we went wrong. You were back in my life, and that was the important part. In my mind, we’d figure everything else out later. Because of that, I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, and I was moving way too fast. I guess, deep down, I knew that I had fucked up and was trying to make up for it. But you weren’t ready, and let's be honest, I’m not ready either. I thought about your offer to give it some time once we’re back in Seoul to separate the past from the present. I’d like to take you up on it, if it still stands.”

You’re relieved to know he finally understands what you were trying to explain to him yesterday. That it wasn’t necessarily a no, just a not-right-now. 

“I would like that,” you admit. 

You both smile at each other, taking in the other unabashedly in your safe space. You catch him glance down at your lips and pout. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever not be attracted to you. Is that bad?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think this trip is proof of how bad it can be, but I feel the same regardless.”

He lets out a sigh full of longing, and nervous about the changing atmosphere around you both, you speak. “Let’s make it a pact then. After we leave tomorrow, we’ll continue living as we had before the wedding, and after some time has passed, we’ll meet up and decide if this is something we actually want to try again, or if we should officially move on.”

“How long?” He asks.

You hum as you think of what a good enough time could be. “Jongdae’s baby shower is in four months. Do you think that’s enough time?”

His eyes take on a familiar shimmer. “I think it’s perfect.”

Chanyeol gets to his feet and pulls you up onto yours. You expect him to start walking back, but instead he pulls you deeper into the gazebo, until he’s standing in the center. 

“How did I do it again?” he mumbles before sinking onto one knee, and your heart lurches into your throat.

“Chanyeol, what are you doing?” You choke.

He holds your left hand, thumb sliding over where your engagement ring once sat. He lifts his head to gaze up at you, and the fairy lights ahead douse him in a golden hue, sparkling in the dark depths of his soul. He now fully embodies the man he was four years ago, and you have a hard time differentiating what year you're in.

Your full name falling from his lips makes you focus on the present. “The last time I was here, I proposed to you, so it’s only fitting I do it again. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a ring this time.”

“Probably for the best,” you wheeze, still overwhelmed.

“Tonight, I’m proposing a deal. That we leave here and figure our shit out, and on the day of Jongdae’s baby shower, we will come to an agreement on how we will pursue this relationship. We will decide to either date again, stay strictly platonic, or become nonexistent. Do you agree to the terms?”

“Yes.” You agree.

Chanyeol smiles largely, and pretends to put a ring on your finger before kissing it. “Then it’s a deal.”

With that, he stands up and you look at him expectantly.

“There’s that look,” he whispers before obliging your unspoken request by leaning down to kiss you.

You kiss as though it’s the last time you ever will, savoring the other and indulging in such a forbidden touch. Whenever you think Chanyeol’s about to break it, he merely tilts his head the other way to deepen it and you giggle and fall right back into your perfect rhythm. A slow warm heat builds from your core, up to your chest, to burn in your throat. Surprisingly, it’s not arousal. It’s something more grounding, more brittle. It’s affection, it’s grief.

It’s love.

The two of you pull apart eventually, staring deep into each other’s eyes as you attempt to catch your breaths.

“There,” Chanyeol says, voice gravelly and deep, as though he just woke up. “Sealed with a kiss.”

You’re smiling, and it all feels so bittersweet, you think you may also be crying again.

“I….” Chanyeol brushes your hair back. Whatever he’s about to say–and you have a suspicious feeling you might know what it is–he decides to keep to himself. Instead, he presses another kiss to your forehead and untangles himself from you. “Let’s go back. I have an early flight.”

The walk to the hotel is peacefully silent. You don’t hold hands or anything, but you’re close enough to have your arm brush his occasionally. When you’re in the elevator, you stand on opposite sides of the cart, just as you had a couple nights ago. He’s smiling at you, and it’s so sweet and boyish, you can’t help but smile back. The action makes his smile grow wider.

When you’re deposited onto your floor, he walks you to your door.

“Sorry for all the drama,” you say as you dig for your room key.

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He grins at you, nudging your shoulder with his arm.

Opening the door, you pause and turn to him. He meets your gaze expectantly.

“See you at the baby shower?” You ask anxiously.

He nods. “I’ll see you at the baby shower, Mel.”

Reassured, you head inside, closing the door quietly behind you. Your heart is pounding a million miles a second, and you take a moment to calm it down with deep breaths. It doesn’t help much. You’re too excited. You’re…hopeful. You know that whatever you decide on the day you see Chanyeol again, he’ll be on the same page. 

You finally got your closure, and are now ready for a new chapter, with or without him. And that doesn’t scare you nearly as much as it had this morning. You’ll never let him know, but Sehun was right. The talk was much needed.

You get ready for bed, and take in the room you spent some of the most stressful days in. You find you’re going to miss this place. Maybe next year you can book the same room, you think as you crawl into bed and fall into a peaceful slumber, knowing all but one of the knots in your rope have finally been untangled.

series m.list | main m.list

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taglist @byunparklimchoi, @notyuji @hisungovenaocare @theawesomehero7714, @kawaii–mommy, @ohsehunsgurl

[rhettabbotts]

“ all i can think of is sitting on top of your hard cock ” with dilf rhett omg pls 🥺🤭

burning desire - dilf rhett abbott

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: you can’t help yourself around him.

warnings: 18+ only. smut. thigh riding. age gap (babysitter mid 20s, rhett late 30s). slight dumbification. daddy kink.

send in a prompt!

The movie was long forgotten, now serving its purpose as white noise. Rain pinged against the windows, thunder rumbled in the distance. Soft suckling noise filled the large living room. Quiet whimpers escaped your throat on their own accord. 

Rhett’s tongue dominated your own, an expert in the craft. The heat between your thighs throbbed and you only just began kissing. You were growing increasingly frustrated with each passing minute - wanting, needing some type of relief. Clenching your muscles only did so much. 

“Rhett,” you gasped as you pulled away from his intoxicating mouth, “I need more.” 

Your eyes softened, pleaded. His thumb tugged on your pouting lip, smearing the shiny gloss. One hand rested against your neck, using the same thumb to tilt your chin upwards. 

He studied your expression and then smirked as your breath hitched. 

“I don’t know if you can handle more, baby,” Rhett croaked, voice scratchy. “Little thing like you.”

“Please. I’ve been thinking about it so much,” you whined. Your bottom lip jutted out once more, not caring that you probably sounded like a spoiled brat. 

“What have you thought about?” He inquired.

“All I can think about is sitting on top of your hard cock,” you confessed, feeling a burning blaze spread through your veins at your own words.

“Oh, sweet baby. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re not ready for that,” Rhett chided. “C’mere.”

He maneuvered you into his lap, positioning you to straddle one of his thighs. He flexed the muscle, chuckling at the noise it punched out of you. Fingers dug into your hips with a bruising grip. 

“This is all I’m giving you tonight. Take it or leave it.”

You nodded eagerly, bracing your hands on his shoulders and wiggling your hips to get comfortable. The feeling of the scratchy denim against your thin scrap of panties sent a delicious chill over your body.

You started slow, a slight buck of your hips to learn your rhythm. Rhett had settled into the couch, arms propped behind his head enjoying the sight before him. You moved at a languid pace, eyes never leaving Rhett’s hungry cobalt blues. 

It was enough… until it wasn’t. Your thighs started burning and you were nowhere near close to that finish line. Huffs of aggravation tumbled past your lips and your brows furrowed as you shifted to find the right angle again. 

“What’s the matter, princess? Can't you do it by yourself?”

“No,” you sulked, stilling your hips. 

“Poor thing. Always have to have daddy’s help, don’t you?”

He finally took pity on you, strong hands taking hold of your hips and jerking you forward. He knew how to move you in the right way; knew how to get you to throw your head back in blinding pleasure. Rhett slid his hand under your dress, fisting your panties to pull them taut in the front. 

“Don’t make me rip these off to shut you up. You know you have to be quiet,” he scolded. You bit your lip, trying your best to suppress the sounds of your desire. The slide of fabric against your aching cunt was drawing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Daddy, please. I can’t- Oh, I can’t.”

“Do you think about it a lot? Think about sliding down on my cock when you’re playing with that little pussy at night?”

“It’s not enough. It’s never enough,” you nearly cried. 

“Of course you can’t get off by yourself. I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I? That’s okay, baby. You know daddy’ll take care of you,” he muttered. 

Rhett placed both hands upon your hips again, this time bouncing you on the firm muscle. Your breasts spilled out of the top of your dress and he couldn’t stop himself from latching onto a hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak. 

A high pitched keen squeezed its way out of your vocal cords. His thumb snaked down to draw tight circles around your bundle of nerves, looking up at you from under his lashes. Your fingers tangled into his hair, gripping at the roots and pulling harshly as you came on his thigh; feeling yourself make a mess on the dark denim. 

“Atta girl. I knew you could do it,” he praised. 

Your muscles turned to rubber as you slumped into his chest. Your entire body ached, a flicker of heat still coursed through your veins. Rhett’s hand traveled the length of your spine in soothing strokes as you came down from your high. 

“How do you do that?” You questioned breathlessly.

“Do what?”

“That! Make me feel like every nerve ending in my body is on fire,” you exclaimed. 

Rhett grinned proudly, placing a wet kiss to your cheek. You were about to connect your lips once more when you heard little footsteps coming down the wooden stairs. You pulled away from Rhett like he was hot metal, haphazardly straightening yourself up while Rhett pulled a throw pillow into his lap. 

“Dad?” Ellie’s timid voice came out sleepily. “Can I get a glass of water?”

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth to stop the giggles from tumbling out. He was in dad-mode instantly, caring for his youngest like he hadn’t just done what he did with you.  

“Tilly?” The nickname rang out from the kitchen. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Your dad and I were having a movie night.”

“Oh, okay. Goodnight. Love ya,” she said before scurrying back to her room. 

Rhett plopped back down beside you on the couch and sighed deeply, eyes now heavy with sleep.

“Movie night, huh?” He chortled, eyes creasing at the corners in amusement.

“You’re a bad influence on me, Abbott.”

“Likewise, Tillerson.”

[inquisimer]

I'M COMING BACK FOR MORE with a poetry prompt for Cullen x Neria pls: "For stones, opening / is not easy / Staying closed is / less pain but / your anger finally / is more dangerous." (Margaret Atwood)

niri niri niri happy dadwc!! some WEWH Neria/Cullen for this week uwu

for @dadrunkwriting

wc: 776

~~~

Neria’s bare feet whispered across the tile of the Winter Palace, the soft pad of her footwraps contrasting sharply with the click of heels. No one was looking at her and yet she felt the weight of more than a dozen gazes prickling the back of her neck as she made yet another circuit about the ballroom.

At her elbow, Josephine fluttered with anxious pleasure. It was certainly something to see the ambassador in her element, even as she nagged and pleaded in murmurs hidden behind smiles. She was on about the Dowager now, and the precise correct moment for Neria to approach her, but as they rounded the banister near Lady Mantillilon, something else entirely caught Neria’s attention.

Cullen, absolutely dashing in his dark uniform and fur-lined half-cape, but increasingly uncomfortable as he edged away from the flock of frilly skirts who pressed into his space. His back hit the wall and a spike of anger pinned Neria’s ears flat against her head.

Orlais was a country of masks, of secrets and intrigue. They’d drilled this into her back at Skyhold, that nothing forthright or blatant would gain traction at the Winter Palace. It was only that knowledge that kept her lips from pulling back to bare her teeth in a snarl.

“Mind your dress, Inquisitor,” Josephine murmured, melting into the shadows with a furrowed brow as Neria stalked forward.

These vultures were not mages, but the force of Neria’s anger was palpable and it thinned the Veil enough to set them on edge. Their fans fluttered faster and their titters pitched higher as they pretended not to notice the Inquisitor’s approach.

Cullen had noticed, though, and he was too Fereldan to try and pretend otherwise. He undoubtedly felt the Fade warping to her anger, even without fresh lyrium in his veins, and his frantic eyes found purchase on her fearsome visage.

She was dressed as a taunt, a reminder, a threat. Leaves and vines in various metals twisted up her bodice in an unmistakably elven design and her skirts were but constructs of the Fade, energy from the Rifts and beyond the Veil, bent to swoop and flutter as she walked. She wore a half-cape of her own, a blood-red reminder of her allegiance with a decorative pauldron—dragon bone bent to powerful runes and Dalish imagery—capping her shoulder

She wanted to draw a fist of stone across the Veil and pummel these imbeciles to pieces. Wanted to pull the dagger from the small of her back and slash their ridiculous outfits to shreds, slice the foolish masks from their pathetic faces. But she felt the stares from her ambassador and spymaster, just paces away, and knew she could not, for the night was not yet through and to lose their access here would be to lose the world.

Instead she pushed her fury outward like a shield and the force of it pressed the foolish lords and ladies away from her commander. She walked across their absence, chin jutted out, and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Commander, if you would?” She inclined her head toward the balcony.

“As you say, Inquisitor.” His relief was a bit more obvious than Sister Nightingale might have liked, but preferable to, say, drawing his sword on any of the Orlesians. With a fierce glare to discourage any of his hazers from following, they passed out into the cool night air.

They were barely free of the ballroom when Cullen’s hand unclenched from the pommel at his hip and found the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I—thank you,” he said, sagging ever so slightly. “I am sorry to have pulled you from your more important duties.”

Neria turned on one bare heel and held her hands out for him to take, if he wished. He did so and she laced their fingers together, pressing gentle kisses across his knuckles.

“You did not pull me anywhere,” she told him. “I chose to walk away.”

She gestured toward the palace with their joined hands. “I cannot burn it down without condemning the world we’re trying to save. But I can—and will—let it smolder, because you are far more important than any secrets I could glean, any favors I could earn.”

She looked out across the gardens, suddenly conscious of how serious his gaze on her had grown. Mindful of her dress, her hair, Cullen tugged her to his side and brushed a kiss across the shaved skin behind her ear.

“I can endure.”

“I know you can,” Neria said. “But you already are—so many things. This does not have to be another.”

[luveline]

my baby freddie is back in stock?! jade ilysm 🥹

could i request a scenario with fred from the special friend au? (kind of like that eddie blurb where him and r make up after a fight/rough patch)

do what u pls with this, hope your day/night is going well miss jade 🫶🏼 sending all my love

TW reader has mental health issues / issues with self harm ♥︎ ty for ur request, ily! fem!reader

It's important to Fred that you spend time together, even when you're fighting. You hadn't understood at first what that was like. Usually, when you fight, you need space, right? That's just how it feels.

Fred doesn't want that, and he expresses it with zero qualms.

"I wanna sit on the settee together, okay?" he asks your back. You've taken refuge on his side of the bed. "You don't have to speak to me if you don't want to."

You're not giving him the silent treatment, you're having a hard time talking. The silent treatment hasn't ever felt very fair — he hasn't stopped existing to you. You're eager to fix the problem between you, to resolve the argument, but you don't know what to say. Neither does he.

You turn around. You don't smile at him, though you want to. His lips twitch like he might, but he only opens the door wider and nods his head. "You want to bring the quilt?"

You bring the quilt. He takes it from you when you're near, and he drapes it over you once you've sat yourself down on the settee. You're unsurprised when he makes tea.

"Thank you," you say. He holds the side so you can take the handle, like he always does, burning his fingertips no doubt.

And this is where he'd kiss your cheek and say, "You're welcome." He's thinking about it, you can tell. You jut your chin in case he wants to, and then he's kissing you, the impassable space between you passed as if nothing's wrong.

Something is wrong, though.

He can tell how hard this is for you. Fred means a lot to you. You love him, he's your partner, but it's more than that. He's your best friend. He's the most consistent thing in your life. Fighting with him makes you anxious, it makes you want to cry, and it makes you want to hurt yourself, even in small ways. Not because you're punishing yourself, and not because you're punishing him. You don't know how to deal with the feelings that you're feeling, and it's as simple as that. Your outlet for emotion is hurting.

You haven't hurt yourself, though, because if you do, Fred might think it's because of him. To spite him, or even just his fault. Neither could ever be true, you'd never hurt yourself to hurt him. You'd never hurt yourself because of him. But it's really hard not to. And it's hard not to tell him, because you tell him almost everything. You feel very alone. You miss him to death.

He strokes your cheek with the side of his knuckle and sits in his seat.

"Freddie," you murmur. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He looks so relieved. "Yeah," he says quietly, "of course I do."

You've started the conversation, and you have to extend the olive branch. Not easy when your memory is a sieve, and anything that wasn't thrumming guilt has slipped away. You want to say sorry and have it be done with, but you don't want to say it for the sake of it. He deserves a proper apology.

"Can you explain it to me?" you ask.

He picks up his mug of tea, second hand held close enough to feel the warmth but not enough to burn. You're holding your mug double handed, skin scalded.

"Have you been crying?"

You look down at your lap. "Not really."

"Ghost, it's- it's not something you have to upset yourself over."

"I'm sorry," you whisper immediately.

"I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday." He huffs, and then he sighs, putting his mug back on the coffee table. "Before we talk about it, I want to lay down some groundwork. Stuff that's permanent. Okay?"

You wince. "Okay."

"I love you."

Tears well in your eyes, burning hot. "Okay."

"I don't think anything has changed, or will change between us because of this argument... Do you feel the same?"

You look up and find only patience in his face. He's not smiling or happy, but he's not mad. He's not annoyed that he has to reassure you.

The big freckle on his chin twitches as he opens his mouth, lips forming the letters a second before he speaks. "You're my girl. You don't have to cry, alright? We just need to talk about this."

Relief is a lightning rod, heat so hot it has pinpricks of sweat prickling over your entire body. You kick the quilt off of your legs.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

He finally smiles. "Am I sure that I love you? More than anything."

"Are you sure it doesn't change anything?" Couples argue and argue and argue, and then they break up.

He nods slowly. "I think so. Do you think it's something we won't be able to move past?"

No. Your urgency must show. Fred pushes his open hand across the settee and you take it like a lifeline.

"You know, everybody fights," he says, almost fond as he pulls your now joined hands back toward him. His knuckles flex between yours, and soon he's got your hand in his lap, painting circles over the back of it with a steady fingertip.

"Not us."

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," he says. "We can't walk around not telling each other things. I thought maybe that's why it got to the point that it did." He meets your eyes. "You know?"

"Yeah," you say, though you're not sure.

The fights is a blur of feelings rather than what you'd said. It could be boiled down to two specifics; Fred being upset with you for isolating yourself from others, you being upset with Fred for misunderstanding. But, as most fights go, it certainly hadn't stayed contained to those things. You'd said both things you meant and things you didn't, though neither of you had said anything cruel. You're quite happy with that.

"I know this stuff gives you a heart attack, but we gotta do it."

"I want to talk about it," you assure him. You want to crawl into his arms and stay there forever, but you'll settle for this, your hand in his hand.

So you talk about it. Fred tries to put his point across again but he folds in the things you'd said. He apologises for a misconception. He apologises for raising his voice. He's forgiven for both immediately.

You reaffirm your own argument, and your throat burns because you really don't care anymore, you just don't want him to be angry. But if what he said is true, lying to him here could end in another argument down the line, one that'll be worse for the both of you.

"Freddie," you say finally, at your bursting point, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know you said we have to fight, but I hate it, and you're my everything." You can barely speak, embarrassed to need him like this. "I'll do whatever you want me to do to make it better."

He pulls your hand to his cheek and holds it there, leaning his weight into it just slightly. "That's kind of my point, sweetheart. I want you to want to do these things because you want to. Not because I asked you to."

You hang your head. If you bite your lip hard, your tears won't fall. They waver at the waterline.

"Tell you what. How about we talk about this tomorrow?" he asks.

A first tear dribbles down your cheek weakly. It's a very small tear. You hope he doesn't notice, but of course he does, and his voice goes soft as silk.

"We've worked it out, ghost," he murmurs, kissing your hand hurriedly, then your wrist. "You don't need to worry. I'm not angry with you."

"I'm sorry-" Your breath catches. You try again. "I'm sorry for being like this. I know it's just a normal argument. I know it's normal, I don't know why I can't be. I know you're not mad, but I feel so stupid."

"Why?"

Your shoulders tremble with a self-loathing sob, though Fred takes it for overwhelmed, and he shuffles across the settee to nudge your shoulder with his.

"Because I'm upset about all the wrong things."

"Who says what the right thing is?"

"I'm making this about me."

"It is about you. It's about both of us, and it's about you." He wipes the tears that he pooled at your chin away with the back of his hand, and then he turns his palm inward to stroke up to your cheek, angling your face in his direction. He stares at you, unflinching. It's a kind of devotion for him to look at you crying and sniffling with so much love. "Would it make you feel better to know I'm upset we're fighting too? I miss you." He laughs, but it doesn't detract from his sincerity. That cuts like a knife.

"You're sure we're okay?" you ask

"I need you," he says, and then amends, "I love you as much as I did before we argued. I love you more, probably."

"Probably."

He beams at you, wiping flecks of tears from your wet lashes carefully. "Definitely. You would have to do something truly, truly awful for me to stop. And I mean, even then..."

You laugh wetly. He's generous for being this way, making jokes and wiping your tears, assuaging your fears even though the argument isn't entirely settled no matter what he claims. You have to work on being better, both of you. Nothing's ever so cut and clean.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me? Something you want me to do, the next time we argue? I-" He chucks you under the chin. "Don't like seeing you this way. But you know that."

"I don't want to go to bed mad at each other," you say quickly. That had been a sick torture.

"Okay, we won't. We'll stay up next time."

There's not much else you can think of. Fred's giant heart has made this easier than it might have been. You try to say thank you and the words gum up in your mouth, distracted by his thumb stroking a short back and forth from the middle of your chin to the underside of your jaw. It's a tickling thing, the lightest of touches.

"I love you," you say. In lieu of thank you for being so patient with me.

"I know. I know."

He's never been anything but patient. Maybe he understands why you are the way that you are. He definitely realises that your emotion tends to come before any logic, and that doesn't make you hysterical or in the wrong. It's one of those things woven into who you are.

"I love you, and... I think it's good for us to fight sometimes. I don't want you to think you can't disagree with me, that this," — he squeezes your joined hands — "is conditional. Because it isn't. You can rail at me, if you liked. I could be into that."

You laugh, relaxing into his side unconsciously. "What, the-" You sniffle. "The nagging girlfriend?"

"Yeah. I think I'd like it if you bossed me around. You could, you know? I'd love it."

"You'd love it," you repeat, unconvinced.

He wraps the arm that isn't pressed to yours around the back of your head, hand above your ear, encouraging your crown to his lips. "Yeah, I would. I love when you talk," he says into your hair. "The sound of your voice. Even when you aren't saying things I agree with."

This has to be one of the best feelings on earth. Being sorry and being forgiven. A warmth that wants nothing from you but yours in turn. Fred's hand playing behind your ear, down your neck and up again. Your shoulders shake with a sudden but singular sob, and you hide your face in his front before he can see it. He can feel it.

"Are you okay?" you ask him.

"Me?"

He pets your back for emphasis.

"You," you say. "Are you still upset?"

He takes a few seconds to think it over. "Maybe a little bit."

You're not very well most of the time, and you process things differently, but making him feel better is something you've always been able to do. You fight back all your tears and drag yourself away from his chest, hands trembling minutely but determined as you cup his cheeks.

He raises his eyebrows at you.

You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs.

Fred laughs, happy at first and then weaker as it goes on.

"Groundwork," you say. "Stuff that won't change. I love you."

He nods and does that things boys do when they're trying not to cry, a quick, too casual blink. He clears his throat. "I love you too."

"You're very handsome."

His laugh thickens. "Tell me more."

"You're my best friend. You're the best friend I could ever have."

You stare at each other for entirely too long, like a cheesy rom-com movie, adoration and relief brightening your eyes and an unspoken agreement between you as your hands move into his hair. He gathers you up into a wonky, amazing hug. You squeeze him and he squeezes you.

You're giggling like a little kid. He squeezes harder and the giggles turn apprehensive.

"Freddie, don't," you beg.

"What was that?" he asks, squeezing you some more, hands vying for your sides, ready to do some damage. "Can't hear you over all that pretty laughing."

"That's terrible, and it's not true 'cause my laugh sounds like a-"

Rather than let you insult yourself, Fred squeezes extra hard. It's more a nice pressure than anything painful, the air whooshing out of you. Too shocked to laugh, you sigh like an idiot and clutch at his shoulder blades.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

You press your face to his neck. "Yeah." You feel really, really good.

He drops his face to find yours. His breath crests over your cheek like a wave. The fighting almost feels worth it, to make up with him like this.

"Let's never fight again," he says grandly. Obviously joking, hopped up on the same affection high as you are.

"Never," you agree.

[nikkisheep]

Subby Billy x dom F!reader

Reader wants to try pegging with Billy (after some short convincing Billy fully trust his girlfriend been dating ever since 6th grade) agrees to try something new when they get started (after some little fingering, and she finds his prostate quickly but doesn’t let him come tho 😊) she repeatedly hits Billy’s prostate VERY hard (every second that passes she goes faster and faster and Billy is just screaming at this point not able to make any sentences what so ever put for her to slow down *they have a safe word but unless Billy actually says the word she it’s slowing down any time soon besides Billy likes rough s*x with his love*.) To the point that he can’t stop coming and right when he is on the verge to coming he managed to say this “MOMMYYYYYY AHAHAHA can’t stop coming mommy pls make it stop *eyes crossed, tongue sticking out* (panting like a dog) you try to talk him back into reality because he was so deep into subspace to not know what’s going on around him.

Nipple play (Billy has sensitive nipples), Mommy kink, rough play, choking kink, praise kink, prostate message, dumbification (Billy getting fu*ked senseless to the point he doesn’t know his own name anymore), fingering, edging, safeword (made but not used), subspace, fluff, aftercare, and overstimulation

Sub!Billy Hargrove x Dom!reader

Warnings: They are listed in the request but just in case, Nipple play (Billy has sensitive nipples), Mommy kink, rough play, choking kink, praise kink, prostate message, dumbification (Billy getting fu*ked senseless to the point he doesn’t know his own name anymore), fingering, edging, safeword (made but not used), subspace, fluff, aftercare, and overstimulation

Summary: Billy just wants someone to take care of him for a bit and you are the perfect person for that.

Normally, Billy would never let this happen. Him being spread eagle style, nakes and you with your finger in his ass. Normally, he have never let this happen.

Today, Billy came home in a sad but grumpy mood. You have been living together for a while now and you were hoping that he was in a good mood because you wanted to tell him about the intership you got for the paper. But when you saw those eyes, you knew that he had had a rough day. You wanted to take care of your baby.

So here you were now, slowly massaging Billy's prostate and he was a whimpering mess. Before all of this, you created a safe word (Coconut) and you hoped he wouldn't have to say it. So, you took a nipple in your warm mouth and he whined at the soft sucking. He tossed his head back and moaned out a soft mommy.

"Mommy's little boy doing so good for her," You say against his skin.

He moaned. He was so far gone into his subspace.

Billy and you started dating back in sixth grade. These years have been the best of your life. You would never do anything that could damage your relationship with him. So you set boundaries. You wanted both of you to be comfortable with everything.

"Such a good boy, mommy's good boy." You flick your tongue on his left nipple.

"Mommy-"

"What baby?"

"Going to come!"

"No," You pull your mouth and finger away.

"Noooo," He whined.

Billy looked at you with wide eyes and tears started coming to his water line. He looked so pretty like this. You move to flip his onto his stomach and insert two fingers into his hole. You claim his lips with your own and swallow his moans. You tweak his nipple and his hips jut up.

His prostate started to become very sensitive, causing him to whimper from overstimulation. Everytime that he got close to coming, you stopped. You wanted for when he did climax, it would be intense and feel good for him.

"Mommy, I need to come so bad!" He whined.

"Such a good boy for me," You praised.

"Mommy," He moaned, begging for you to make him come.

You pull away to look at him, he was so far gone. Drunk from pleasure coursing through his veins. You kissed him and he whined for you. Begging for you. Whimpering for you.

You rub his prostate again and he starts to climax. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth opening, sweating and panting. His back arched from his position and moans out loudly.

"You are doing so good," You tell him. Cum paints the bedsheet, and it continues. It's never ending.

"Mommy, can't stop it. Please stop it," He cries, pleasure coursing through every inch of his body, making him tremble.

"It's okay baby," You say while removing your fingers from his ass.

You turn him over to his back, kissing his forehead. You change the sheets and clean Billy up. Once he was changed into some clean boxes, you cuddle in bed. You let Billy lay on your chest, running your hand through his hair. You told him how much you loved him, how much of a good boy he was, how beautiful he is.

"I love you," You whisper as Billy doozes off.

"Thank you for this," He sighs.

"You're welcome."

[meowdarame]

three holes, two hands

banner source: Juunengo no Jinsei Soudan

pairings: miya atsumu x iwaizumi hajime x tendou satori x f!reader x ushijima wakatoshi x matsukawa issei (no m! x m! interactions, only f! x m! contact; she/her pronouns used, afab!reader)

warnings: 18+, minors DNI!; 6-some/gangbang (but everything is consensual); oral (both m! and f! giving and receiving); 69′ing; protected sex (wrap it up folks!); m! masturbation; handjobs; voyeurism; one instance of spanking; double penetration; ass play (f!receiving); anal (f!receiving); face fucking; bukkake; petname usage (princess, sweetheart, daddy, etc.); pls let me know if i missed anything because there is a lot going on in this fic!

word count: 7.2k

author’s note: i passed advanced ochem! yay! so here is the tendou 6-some fic, as promised. this is extremely self-indulgent so i included my favs. a special shoutout to @christeningsakusa​ for being my lovely beta! as always, i hope you enjoy, and likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

sequel: let them eat cake!!

Your husband always manages to ask the strangest questions at the most unexpected times.

“Babe, would you still date me if I were a worm?”

“Babe, would you rather have fingers as toes or toes as fingers?”

“Babe, babe, babe! If I made a clone of you, would you let me have a threesome with both of you?”

Usually you’d indulge his inquiries, no matter how nonsensical some of them may be, but one day, he asks you a question that’s unusually specific.

…

Tendou munches on his spicy tuna onigiri and covers his mouth with his right hand, mumbling in between chews.

“Babe, you have three holes and two hands. Which of my friends are taking which spots?”

You nearly choke on a grain of rice over his question. After coughing for a couple seconds, you regain your composure and reply, “Satori, what?”

He starts again, this time enunciating his words, as if you hadn’t heard him clearly the first time. “You have three holes and two hands, which–”

You cut him off before he could finish. “No, I heard you the first time. But why are you asking me this? And why did you have to ask me at the dinner table of all places?”

Your husband shrugs nonchalantly, as if he just asked you what movie you wanted to watch later and not some overly intrusive question. “Just curious! C’mon babe, indulge me this one time!” He stares at you with big eyes, almost as if he were a puppy begging for another treat.

“I’m not answering your question. I don’t want you to get hurt if you don’t like my answer,” you reply sternly.

“I wouldn’t have asked it if I was gonna get upset!” His bottom lip juts out into a pout. “Pleeease babe!” He whines, intertwining his fingers into a praying position as he pleads.

Tendou always knows how to coax an answer out of you— a pouty expression and a few whines is really all it takes. And so, you indulge your man-child of a husband.

“Fine,” you groan, rubbing your palm against your forehead. “Give me a few minutes to think.”

Tendou nods and continues eating his onigiri, happily chewing on the rice ball as you sit in silence across from him. You rack your brain, trying to remember all of his friends that you’ve met so far.

It’s no secret that your husband is handsome, and that he’s the sweetest, kindest, funniest, and most lovable man you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. But it’s also no secret that your handsome husband has friends who are just as hot as him. Having played volleyball for a powerhouse high school nearly a decade ago, he was deeply involved in a network of some of the best athletes in the nation at the time, some of them even growing up and advancing to the professional and Olympic levels. You think long and hard as you try to associate faces with names and vice versa, until you finally settle on your roster.

“Alright, I have my answer,” you announce, and Tendou tosses aside his onigiri wrapper to place his face into his palms, looking up at you through thick lashes with eager eyes. You stare at the ceiling instead, not wanting to meet his intense gaze. “So I guess my ideal 6-some would be you, Wakatoshi, Iwaizumi Hajime, Matsukawa Issei, and Miya Atsumu.”

Your eyes leave the ceiling and land on Tendou’s face– his lips curl upwards into a twisted grin, eyes as expectant as ever. There’s a moment when you two just sit there in silence, a stare-off ensuing, until he asks a question that adds to tension-saturated air.

“And do you have a rationale for this ideal 6-some lineup, my love?”

You groan and throw your head back in defeat, face contorting into a pained expression. “Satori,” you complain. “This is getting really embarrassing.”

He reaches out and grabs your hand from the tabletop, interlacing his slender fingers with yours. “Sweetheart, it’s not my intention to embarrass you or make you uncomfortable. But please, just feed my curiosity one more time?”

You sigh and look at your husband, who wears that same damn pouty expression that’s so good at getting things from you. There’s a pang in your heart as his lip huffs out even further– which you thought was humanly impossible until now– and you cave in yet again.

“Okay, okay,” You groan. “I’ll explain. But wipe that pitiful expression off your face; you’re starting to make me feel bad.”

He giggles and kicks his feet underneath the table like an excited schoolgirl as you begin your thorough analysis. “So, obviously you’d be in the lineup, but I’d also like ‘Toshi there as another source of comfort. Since, y’know, it wouldn’t be our first time inviting him to our bedroom activities.”

Tendou throws his head back in a fit of laughter. “We were some crazy kids in college, huh babe?”

You chuckle with your husband and continue on. “And then Iwaizumi and Matsukawa because I always thought they were really attractive– I actually had a crush on both of them when I went to Seijoh so many years ago. And also,” you lean forward on the table, cupping your hand around your mouth and whispering a long-kept secret to your husband, “I heard that they were uh– well-endowed. At least, those were the whispers going around the school at the time.”

Tendou leans back in his seat, a smile plastered on his lips and his cheeks flushed pink. “And finally, Miya Atsumu. I dunno, I just always thought he was hot? And if he fucks anything like those gossip Youtube channels say he does, then I think he’d be a fun addition.”

Tendou chuckles and shakes his head. “That man is a walking PR scandal.”

“Right?” You agree with your husband as you take the final bite of your salmon onigiri. After wiping your face with a napkin, you get up from your seat to toss your trash away, when suddenly, Tendou wraps his arms around your waist and reels you in for a hug, your back pulled flush against his chest. He buries his face into your neck for a few seconds, basking in your sweet scent.

“Thank you for playing along, babe,” he whispers dreamily into your skin. His breath is so warm against your nape that it begins to tickle. Sighing, you reach behind you and begin to play with his hair, soothing your fingers through the red fuzz of his buzzcut.

“Anything for you, my love. But please, can you refrain from asking me such sexual questions while we’re eating dinner?”

He giggles into your shoulder, soft vibrations rippling through your flesh, and you can’t help but laugh with him.

…

That conversation took place a month ago, and you really didn’t think much of it after that. In fact, you forgot all about it, chalking it up to ‘just another one of Satori’s playful antics.’ That is until one day, your husband texts you to put on his favorite lingerie set and be ready for him when he gets home; but when you open the door wearing nothing but a smirk on your mischievous face and said lingerie two-piece on your lotioned-up body, you’re met with your husband… plus four other tall, broad, and handsome figures looming behind him.

“Surprise, babe!” Tendou lifts both arms into the air triumphantly. “Do you like your anniversary gift?”

Your jaw drops; you’re absolutely mortified. Out of all the out of pocket shit your husband says and does, this surely takes the cake. You try your best to cover yourself, using your arms and hands to hide as much of your body that you possibly can, but it’s too late. They’ve already seen everything, literally– the sheer and thin red mesh does a shitty job of covering your peaked nipples and plush pussy lips.

Your brain is running 100 miles a minute as you try to figure out the right words to say to scold your husband. Pointing a shaky finger at the group of men in front of you, you stutter, “What are you– What are they– Ugh! Just come inside before someone in the street sees us!”

As all the men file inside the foyer of your house, you run to the bathroom to wrap yourself in a bathrobe. Walking back out, the group has taken seats on your leather couch while Tendou stands next to them; you lean your hip against the kitchen counter, fold your arms over your chest, and begin your word assault on your– potentially ex– husband.

“Tendou Satori,” you start slowly, smoke threatening to shoot out of your nostrils. From in front of you, you hear a snicker of “ooh, she used the government name; she must be pissed!” but you pay it no mind.

“I’m going to ask you one time and one time only– What is the meaning of this?”

He slowly walks over to you, his hands in front of him in an attempt to calm you down. The more he treats you like a cornered animal, the more infuriated you get. “Listen, sweetheart, do you remember that weird question I asked you about a month ago? The one about you having three holes and two hands?”

You exhale loudly as you pinch your nose bridge in frustration; your patience is wearing thin. “Vaguely, but yes.”

“Well,” Tendou starts, a smile threatening to erupt across his face. “I made your wish come true! I invited the whole squad here to please you and give you a, uh– a night of fun.”

Oh my god, is all you think when it finally clicks in your brain.

You turn to your audience, putting on a fake smile and clearing your throat to summon your hospitality voice. Your face runs hot with embarrassment as they stare at you, waiting for you to speak. “Can I get you anything, gentlemen? Water? Snacks? I’m so sorry for my idiot husband dragging you all the way out here and tricking you into thinking that there was something else going on. There’s no party or event, so you guys can just head out. There’s a hotel about a mile from here, and I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding.”

The room is quiet as the four men look at each other, each stirring in their seats but none of them making any effort to get up. You eye each of them cautiously, but your gaze lands on Ushijima once he opens his mouth.

“Actually,” he starts, his low voice rumbling and echoing off your living room’s walls, “we all knew what we came here for.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as the men continue to make their case, but this time, it’s Iwaizumi who speaks. “Yeah,” He gets up from his seat and slowly makes his way over to you; the pitter-pattering of his bare feet against the marble tile contrasts the rapid beating of your heart. “We weren’t tricked into anything. We all came here on our own volition.”

Matsukawa follows him, approaching you with a hunger in his eyes that rivals his former teammate’s. “I always thought you were so pretty in high school, in fact I had the fattest crush on you, but I never thought that you’d give me a chance. So when Satori presented me with this wonderful opportunity, I jumped at it as quick as I could.” He leans in close, his soft lips gently brushing the shell of your ear, and whispers, “Dropped thousands of yen on my plane ticket here, even though you and your pussy are fucking priceless.”

You have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a pitiful whine from escaping your mouth. But the men don’t give you time to breathe, because right when Matsukawa steps back Atsumu swoops in and delicately lifts your chin.

“And I’m never one to say no to group sex,” his espresso irises flicker down to take a quick peek at your lips before meeting your gaze once more. “Especially with someone as breathtaking as you.”

Your heart pounds in your chest; it feels like the whole room is spinning, your overwhelmed mind working overtime to process what had just happened. You feel lightheaded, your knees threatening to give out on you, but when a slender hand grasps your wrist and spins you around, your vision stills again.

Tendou cups your cheeks with both of his large palms, the familiar warmth sending waves of comfort from your face and down your spine, all the way to your toes. He plants a soft kiss on your lips, the faint taste of chocolate lingering on his tongue.

“See, babe,” he coos as he runs the pad of his thumb over your wet bottom lip. “They all want to be here. They all want to watch my pretty little princess act like a stupid little slut for them.”

Your husband’s crude words send a shock down your spine; a tingle pulses through your core as your pussy clenches around nothing. He stares at you with lust-filled eyes, his beautiful scarlet irises assessing your every move– every quirk of your eyebrows, every quiver of your lips, every sharp inhale you take. He’s sizing you up, trying to guess your response.

The men continue to surround you and it feels suffocating, but their presence isn’t unwanted. True, having sex with a group of former and professional athletes is anybody’s wet dream, and true, they’ve all expressed how desperately they want you. But you just need to hear it again, one more time, before you make up your mind…

“So,” you ask, keeping your voice low for fear of it cracking and betraying you, “you all came out here– flew all the way out to Paris– to fuck me? At the same time?”

A chorus of nonchalant yeah’s breaks out in the room before it grows silent again. The tension in the air is thick as the men await your answer, every second feeling like hours passing, but your timid voice slices straight through it.

“The master bedroom is down the hallway, second door to your left.”

Tendou’s face contorts to a pleased yet devilish grin; he wastes no time lifting you off the ground, carrying you bridal style and running to your shared bedroom the same way he did 3 years ago on your wedding night.

He throws your body onto the springy mattress with a thud. After Tendou hastily removes the bathrobe that once covered your exposed body, the five other men stand behind him, all eyes trailing up and down every inch and curve of your scantily clad figure.

Your husband lifts your chin with his fingertips and presses a kiss to your forehead. He whispers to you, but loud enough so that the others in the room could hear as well, “Princess, tonight we follow your orders. Just say what you want and we’ll do it.”

You peer behind him and the other men are eagerly nodding their heads; some of their faces are flushed pink, while others, specifically Ushijima and Iwaizumi, have their hands in their jacket pockets in an attempt to hide the growing bulge in their sweatpants.

You look down at your body, and a heat floods to your face once you realize that you’re barely wearing anything, completely vulnerable to their wandering eyes, but everyone else remains fully clothed. So, you muster up all the courage that you can and deliver your first command.

“Take off your clothes. All of you.”

You hear a snicker and your eyes scan across the room to find its source. They’re met with Atsumu’s playful smirk, and he teasingly asks, “All of our clothes?”

You give the group one nod of your head, and the men get to work– jackets and t-shirts and sweatpants and boxers flying everywhere until all that’s left are 5 separate piles of clothes on the floor. Their cocks all stand upright against their abdomens; some with prominent veins that you know will feel so good massaging your gummy walls, while others with red, glistening tips that are already leaking so much precum despite being completely untouched. But one person’s dick in particular catches your eye– you thought it was impossible to have cock longer and girthier than Ushijima’s but seeing Matsukawa’s makes you reconsider your hasty conclusion. His tip reaches a few inches above his belly button, and his dick maintains the same thickness all throughout his shaft. He catches you staring at his crotch for a second too long, and he flashes you a cheeky grin, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

You’re pulled out of your trance when a body sits next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under the added weight. Tendou wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Why don’t we start by assigning who goes where, hm?” he suggests as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “You pick for us, my love. But,” he turns your face towards him, “I get to have your pretty little mouth,” he adds on, emphasizing the last three words with a tap to your pouty lips.

You face the men once more, analyzing what they’re packing down there. They’re all huge, so with any outcome it’ll be quite a stretch for you– it’s just a matter of figuring out who won’t completely rip you in two. After a few moments of silent contemplation, you finish your deliberation.

“Atsumu,” you call, and the blonde setter’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. “You can take my ass.” You swear you see stars shoot from his eyes, an excited grin creeping up on his face.

“And Hajime, I want you in my pussy.” His ears burn bright red at your words, and your heart can’t help but swoon in your chest over seeing the typically brooding Iwaizumi all shy and flustered over your words.

You turn to the other two men, who despite not being chosen for one of your holes, still have enthusiastic expressions spread across their faces. “I’m sorry boys, but I don’t think I could take either of you in addition to somebody else. I hope you understand.”

Matsukawa shrugs nonchalantly and replies, “Don’t worry, I totally get’cha. Just one of the curses of having a big dick. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

From his right, Iwaizumi scoffs at the ex-middle blocker’s cocky remark, and you stifle a giggle with the palm of your hand.

“Since those two handsome lads aren’t getting a hole, why don’t you let them play with you first and prep you?” Tendou suggests with a playful lilt in his voice.

You flash your husband a seductive grin, and your next words nearly make the man keel further into your shoulder. “I was just thinking the same thing, my love.”

Ushijima and Matsukawa both take a seat on opposite sides of you on the bed. Your lips crash against Wakatoshi’s first, relishing in the somewhat distant yet familiar feeling of his tongue sliding over yours. Your fingers tug at his olive locks, and a cute little whimper slips past his mouth and is caught by your lips.

You kiss Issei next, and his motions are a stark contrast to Wakatoshi’s. His lips are needier, more urgent– almost as if this is the last time he’ll ever be able to kiss you, and honestly, it might be. So he wastes no time, nipping and pulling and sucking on your bottom lip, making you mewl into his mouth. At the same time, Ushijima’s calloused hands run up and down your body and settle on your nipples, pinching and tweaking at the perked buds through the mesh material of your bra, fingers nimbly reaching around and unclasping it before tossing it aside. The corners of Issei’s lips curl upwards into a smirk; he can easily tell how badly you want them.

When you finally pull away, you deliver another string of orders. “‘Toshi, kneel at the foot of the bed. I want you to prep my ass– you were always so good at it.” He nods his head once and does as he’s told, taking his stance at the opposite end of the bed.

“And Issei, lie down on your back so that your knees hang off the bed, right next to ‘Toshi’s.” His thick eyebrows cock upwards, slightly confused on where this is headed, but a gentle shove of his shoulder is enough to make the man move.

“Satori,” you turn to your husband, “Grab the lube from the nightstand and hand it to Wakatoshi.” As Tendou fulfills your request, you slide out of your panties and maneuver your hips to hover over Issei’s face. Teasingly, you wiggle your bare and wet cunt over his lips, but what he does next has you keeling forward, almost flying into Ushijima’s abs before his strong hands grip at your thighs.

You hear a “ptui!” come from underneath you, and a wetness begins to dribble from your labia and down your inner thighs. Staring down at the man beneath you, your eyes are met with a lewd sight– there’s spit glistening all over Issei’s mouth, cheeks, and neck. Your hole involuntarily clenches at the perverted image, which he notices, and he greedily pulls your hips flush against his face, licking and sucking at your sensitive nub like a ravenous animal.

It’s all so much and so fast– his fingertips dig into your thighs, rubbing and kneading the flesh in soothing circles. He’s barely even started and you’re already out of breath and panting, overwhelmed by all the sensations, all the bodies radiating heat around you, all the eyes trained on the area where your cunt and Issei’s lips meet.

Regaining some semblance of composure, you take your sweet time crawling forward, until you’re face to face with Ushijima’s pelvis. Balancing your weight on one hand, you use the other to wrap around the backside of his muscular thighs, and with one harsh tug, you scoot him closer to you. Staring up at him with doe eyes and lolling your tongue out, you work his cock into your mouth, kitten licking all over his pink-purple tip before making your way down his thick member. You make sure to pay extra attention to where his head and shaft meet, flicking your muscle back and forth over the ridge, and it makes his thighs tense as his head falls backward, letting out cute little whines that he attempts to muffle with the back of his left hand. You halt your movements however, and draw his attention to you.

“‘Toshi,” you coo, and his olive irises shoot downwards and meet yours. “Don’t be shy, baby. I want them to hear how good you feel.” Without warning, you take his cock as far as you can until it hits the back of your throat, pumping the rest of his length with your spit-coated hand.

And with that, all inhibitions leave Ushijima’s mind, allowing the most obscene but sweet sounds escape from his mouth. Squelching sounds fill the room as you bob your head back and forth at the same pace as your hand; one of his hands holds the back of your head, applying a slight pressure but not to the point of discomfort, while the other hand reaches down beneath your face and tugs and cups his heavy balls.

It’s a filthy sight, and out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Atsumu takes a seat in the loveseat on the opposite end of the room, spitting into his palm and slowly stroking his cock, his eyes trained on how far you’re taking Wakatoshi into your mouth. Iwaizumi on the other hand stands behind Ushijima, staring down at you with a ferocity in his eyes that you’ve only seen him wear a few times in his life. His dick twitches when you gag around the wing spiker’s length, but Hajime refuses to touch himself, wanting the first stimulation that he feels tonight to be your pussy lips fluttering around his enormous length.

A glob of your spit mixed with Ushijima’s precum slides down your chin and falls onto Matsukawa’s cock, and his hips buck upwards at the feeling. Realizing that he probably feels neglected right now, you pull your mouth off of the wing spiker’s cock, issuing another command.

“‘Toshi, use the lube and play with my ass. Exactly how you used to.”

He nods and you dip your head down, licking a straight line from Issei’s tip to his balls. He groans beneath you, and the vibrations send waves through your pussy lips and up your spine. He’s still relentlessly lapping up your juices like a dog drinking water, but once your plush lips wrap around his head, he eats you out with a sense of urgency that makes what he was doing before feel half-hearted. You moan around his shaft at the heightened sensation, and his hips thrust up into your face, making his tip hit the back of your throat in one swift motion.

At the same time, you feel a few drops of cold wetness spill onto your puckered hole, and curious yet experienced fingers begin prodding at it. Ushijima sticks his middle finger into your ass, slowly working his way down until he’s knuckle deep. He alternates between swirling his fingers around your tight walls and pumping his finger in and out. Your body feels like it’s on fire; your throat tightens around Matsukawa’s length, but you power through it, continuing to bob your head up and down his shaft– that is, until, Ushijima slips in another thick finger.

You release Issei’s cock from your mouth and yelp, “Fuck! ‘M close! Gonna cum soon!”

The man beneath you grips your thighs even harder and pulls you back and forth, forcing you to grind over his tongue. “Pussy’s so fucking good,” he swears, “Cum for me, sweetness. Wanna taste ya.”

Your orgasm hits you hard– your ass clenches around Wakatoshi’s fingers, nearly pushing them out; dribbles of your cum drip out of your cunt and trickle down Issei’s face; your body shudders and your toes curl as you ride out your intense high.

Once your body stops quivering, Ushijima helps you off of Matsukawa’s face, gently placing you down on the bed next to them. Issei, with his chest still heaving and heart still racing, sits up, his devilish smile making his already handsome face even hotter. His strong hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks. He kisses you passionately, tongue languidly probing the inside of your mouth, before he pulls away, but his hand remains gripping your face.

“Open wide,” he coos, and you obey. A glob of his spit lands onto your tongue, but before you can close your mouth and swallow, he adds on, “Nuh-uh-uh! Let ‘Toshi have a taste, too.”

Keeping your jaw slack, you crawl over to the olive-haired man, pulling him down by his neck for a kiss. He swallows the mixture of Issei’s spit and your cum hungrily, a choked groan getting caught in his throat, and then he steps back, allowing space for the other three men to come forward.

Atsumu pushes up from his chair and stalks over to you– you see some creamy white residue on his abs and you realize that he came, but his dick is still as hard as before.

“That was quite the show ya put on for us, darlin’,” he teases. He kneels on the bed, his face only a few centimeters away from yours, and whispers, “Was yer shy demeanor earlier just a façade?”

“No,” you reply back in a saccharine yet seductive voice. “Just takes me a bit to warm up to strangers, that’s all.” The setter licks his lips, its corners curling upwards into a smirk, and he quips back, “Well, now that you’re warmed up to us, tell us what to do next, pretty girl.”

You can tell that he sees this as a game– that he’s sizing you up, trying to compete with you for power, seeing if he can make your growing confidence falter or waver– a challenge which you readily accept.

“Lie down on your back in the middle of the bed, pretty boy.”

He does as he’s told, and you straddle his waist facing away from him, giving him the perfect view of your ass as you grind your folds over his throbbing length. His fingers dig into your sides, assisting you in your motions.

“Nope!” You swat his hands away, chiding him. “We’re going at my pace; you got that?”

You hear a choked “mhm” from behind you as you continue your ministrations. Lifting your hips, take a condom from the nightstand and roll the latex down his member; you line up his tip with your hole, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock and taking him into your ass inch by inch.

The last inch is a struggle, but you power through it by pushing down in one swift motion. You squeal and his cock twitches inside of you; a pitiful whimper comes from behind you, and it makes you giggle.

You turn around and are met with a beautiful sight– sweat beads down Atsumu’s face and his blonde locks cling to his forehead; his brows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on where you two meet; his lips are parted and his tongue lolls out as he pants.

“Oh, ‘Tsumu,” you tease, pushing some of his hair away from his face. “You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

Suddenly, his hips jolt upwards, sinking his cock deeper into your tight hole; your nails dig into his toned thighs to stabilize yourself. He snickers at the choked scream you let out, landing a harsh smack on your ass.  

“Say that one more time, princess,” he sneers, a playful but condescending tone dripping off the tip of his tongue. “Call me needy one more ti–”

Your lips crashing against his shuts him up. You lie on top of him now, back resting flush against his sweaty chest; you can feel his semi-dry cum against your back, the warm stickiness equal parts uncomfortable and sexy. Your teeth clash against each other for a brief moment until you both find a rhythm you’re both comfortable with– it’s obvious that the blonde setter enjoys sucking on your tongue and eliciting cute whines from your throat.

You pull away and turn your attention to Iwaizumi, and as your eyes land on him, his face burns red hot and his ears tint pink. He’s a little nervous, considering that he hasn’t had sex with this many people in a long time– he just got out of a long-term relationship that ended in a messy break up a couple months ago. Still, despite his hesitations and insecurities, he crawls over to you when you signal him over with your index finger.

He grabs a foil packet from the nightstand and rips it open, the latex choking his cock despite it being an XL-sized condom. He spits into his hand and pumps his length a few times before tossing your legs over his shoulders and lining his tip with your drooling cunt.

He eases himself into you, and after a few gentle yet focused thrusts, he bottoms out. You exhale in unison at the feeling, but you notice that this whole time, he hasn’t looked at you once, opting to stare at your pussy or your tits or the sheets beneath you– anywhere but your face.

Your foot nudges his cheek, forcing him to look at you. He still refuses to look directly into your eyes though, instead gazing a few centimeters below them at your mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you whisper, and all he mumbles is a short “hey” back, his brows furrowing and a slight pout forming across his lips.

Your foot nudges his face once more, this time underneath his chin, forcing his eyes to lift and meet yours. His face grows even redder, timidness and heat flooding every square inch of his body. “Hajime,” you coo, reaching out to rub his knuckles with your thumb. “No need to be shy. You’re already making me feel so, so good, baby.”

Your praise helps dissipate the insecurities in him, and he experimentally rolls his hips back and thrusts forward in one swift movement. The action draws out a high pitched whine from you, and it only adds more fuel to the fire of his growing self-confidence. He begins to fuck into you, his hips steadily picking up their pace with each movement. Atsumu follows suit, planting his feet flat on the mattress and bucking his hips up. It’s a little messy at first, but once they figure out a rhythm that works for both of them, their coordinated thrusts leave you feeling so fucking full, not a single moment when you’re not stuffed to the brim with one of their thick cocks.

“Shit!” Iwaizumi curses, sweat beading down his toned pecs and biceps. “Your pussy’s so tight, feels so fucking good.”

Atsumu chimes in from underneath you, his breathing labored, “Ya like this, don’tcha princess? Like being used like our little cocksleeve?”

You nod frantically, feeling your impending orgasm quickly approaching you. “Hajime, please!” you squeal in between pants. “Please kiss me!”

He leans forward, placing his weight on his forearms, and traps your mouth in a heated kiss. His kisses are different– although his hips are pounding into you at an abusing pace, his lips slide over yours carefully but passionately, truly savoring every lick, every nip, every mewl that you give him. One of Iwaizumi’s hands fumble around and search for Atsumu’s; once he finds it, he drags it over to your puffy nipples, indicating for him to play with the perked buds.

The setter twists and tugs your tits, the rough calluses on his fingertips adding extra stimulation. Your core tightens and the coil in your tummy snaps, and you cum with a choked cry; you clench around both of their cocks, making them curse underneath their breath. The two men talk you through your orgasm, whispering indiscernible praises of “good girl” and “you’re so pretty when you cum,” amongst other things that your fucked-out mind is unable to process. They only stop fucking you once you stop shuddering, but you don’t get any time to rest, because immediately after your come down, you feel a pair of familiar hands cup your face and lanky legs straddle your waist.

“Hello, my love,” Tendou beams down at you, his pretty pink lips curled upwards into a soft smile. “You having fun?”

You nod your head a few times, not trusting your voice. His smile grows even wider, and he continues. “I can tell. Ya mind if I join?”

You shake your head. “Daddy, please. Need you here.” Your jaw goes slack and you loll out your tongue, showing your husband exactly where you want him.

“Anything for my princess,” is all he says before shoving his cock down your throat with one swift motion, his trimmed red pubes tickling the tip of your nose. He’s so lucky to have a wife whose throat has molded to the shape of his cock with how many times he’s fucked it, and although taking all of him still poses a challenge, it now comes as second nature to you.

His hands grab the back of your head to support it as he sloppily thrusts into your mouth, going at a pace that’s more erratic than usual, even for Tendou. Tears begin to stream down your face as you struggle to breathe, choking and gagging around his length. The whole room falls silent and all movements cease, everyone focused on how roughly he’s bucking his hips into your face, but despite this, how well you’re taking him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Tendou coos, “Daddy’s here to show these little boys how to fuck you right.”

He turns to his audience and scoffs, “Are you guys just gonna stand there and watch? Get moving.”

The two men in your tight holes begin thrusting again, building themselves back up to the same alternating rhythm they had earlier. Issei and Wakatoshi settle themselves on the bed, kneeling on opposite sides of you. They guide your hands to their crotches, Matsukawa much more aggressively than the other, and spit on their lengths before wrapping your fingers around their cocks, pumping and stroking their shafts at similar paces.

There’s so much going on— so much heat radiating around you, so much weight on top of your tired body, so many hands grabbing at wherever they can. Iwaizumi digs his nails into your thighs; Atsumu gropes and kneads your tits; Matsukawa and Ushijima guide your hands as you jerk them off, the former firmly grabbing your wrist as he bucks into your squeezed fist while the latter wraps his larger hand around yours and pumps himself in unison with your movements. But Tendou, even though he’s fucking your mouth so hard, perhaps the hardest he’s ever throat-fucked you before, his hands around your head are gentle, making sure to provide your neck adequate support so that you don’t get hurt.

Your eyes trail up his sweaty body, pale skin glistening underneath the warm lamplight, abs tensed and flexed as his hips rock back and forth; forearm and bicep veins protrude as he supports your neck and head, and his chest and neck are tinted the prettiest shade of pink from the intense heat that scorches through his whole body. He stares down at you with equal parts love and lust in his eyes, scarlet irises so hazy and eyelids so heavy that you doubt that he’s seeing properly, but despite this, he’s still drinking in your fucked out face as much as he possibly can.

But aside from love and lust, there’s another look in his eyes that makes your heart swell— it’s pride. With a single look, his eyes seem to worship you with a thousand praises, and it’s more than enough to push you over the edge.

Every muscle in your body tenses— your pussy and throat clench around their cocks as your hands squeeze around their lengths. Tendou is the first to cum, shoving his cock all the way in one last time to shoot hot spurts of his seed down your throat. He’s followed by Iwaizumi and Atsumu, whose thrusts become erratic as they chase their highs. They thank you profusely as they spill into the condoms, Atsumu whispering sweet nothings against the shell of your ear while Hajime presses wet kisses up and down along your inner calf. Finally, Matsukawa’s and Ushijima’s hips begin to stutter, and Satori moves out of the way so they can paint your tummy and tits with streaks of eggshell white.

Your chest heaves as you come down from your orgasm, your body exhausted and overstimulated. Tendou scoops up the cum in the valley of your breasts with his slender fingers and shoves them into your mouth. As you eagerly lick around his digits and clean them up, he breathily exhales, “My precious baby. You were so good to us, my love.”

You feel like you’re sinking into the mattress and your eyelids are growing heavy. From somewhere around you, you hear one of the men annoyedly mutter under his breath, “Why’d she only call him daddy?”, which you recognize as Issei’s voice, and the sharp slap of someone hitting the back of his head in response, scolding him, “Because he’s her husband, ya fucking imbecile,” who you assume is Hajime. You quietly giggle to yourself as Satori presses a delicate kiss on your sweaty forehead, the world eventually fading to black.

…

You wake up with a warm lump snuggled next to you, and you realize that it’s your husband from his musk that’s always infused with traces of a sweet chocolatey scent that he can’t seem to get rid of. When you glance down at your body, you’re all cleaned up and assume that the boys wiped you down while you were asleep. Once you rub your eyes with your fists and let out a quiet yawn, he notices that you’ve woken up and squeezes you tighter in his arms.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he teases.

“Holy shit,” his words make you wake up faster, “is it really morning?”

Tendou chuckles and presses his cheek against the crown of your head. “I’m just messing with ya, you were only out for about 30 minutes or so.”

“Oh,” you reply, lying back down and tracing hearts onto his stomach. “Where are all the boys? Did they leave?”

“Nah, they’re out in the living room, eating pizza and watching a movie. Told them they could spend the night here on the guest beds and couches, if that’s alright with you?”

“Mhm,” you nod softly against his chest. “It’s fine by me.”

Your husband’s fingers reach under your chin and lift your face. “Did you have fun, my love? Did we go too hard on you?”

You shake your head. “No, it was wonderful ‘Tori. Had lots of fun.” Your body scoots up the mattress to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose, making his cheeks and ears flush pink. “Thank you for organizing this. You spoil me too much.”

The corners of his lips curl upwards into a smirk. “What kinda shitty husband would I be if I didn’t spoil my amazing wife?”

You giggle at his joke before asking, “Did you have fun, my love? You got a little possessive there at one point.”

Your husband’s eyes widen and his face turns bright red in embarrassment. Rubbing his free hand behind his neck, he defends himself, “Yea, ‘m sorry about that, babe. It’s just,” he sighs, and you know that there’s something on the back of his mind that’s bothering him. “At first, I thought it was so hot, but then I saw how much fun you were having and how good you felt, and I just… I dunno… felt inadequate? Like maybe I’m not enough?”

“Satori,” you whisper softly. “Yes, it did feel really good and I had a lot of fun, but no one can ever compare to how you make me feel— how cared for, how special, and how loved that you and only you can make me feel.”

Tendou’s face contorts into a cute little pout, the same one that he does when he’s about to ask one of his ridiculous questions.

“Even if Issei’s dick is the size of a fucking Pocari Sweat bottle?”

You laugh, a little out of breath as you reply, “Even if Issei’s dick is the size of a fucking Pocari Sweat bottle.”

He rubs his cheek into yours, mimicking the actions of an affectionate kitten. “Good,” he hums. A few seconds of silence pass before he continues, “Do you want to join them outside, sweetheart?”

“Mmm,” you murmur back, closing your eyes and relishing in your husband’s warmth. “Gimme 30 more minutes. Let’s stay like this for a bit.”

Satori gently nods his head before shutting his eyes as well.

Your husband asks a lot of strange questions, usually to satiate his curious mind, but there’s one thing that he never, ever second guesses— how much you love him, and how deeply he loves you.

taglist: @christeningsakusa @petalsrdead @sunat2508 @crystal-lilac

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[jeongwife]

ok hear me out: chan giving you a lapdance and not making you touch him 😫💀

hiii are u taking requests? If yes could you pls...imagine chan giving his girl a lap dance? like he says that she's not allowed to touch him or herself. and it goes on for a while and she's squirming and chan smirks and says "if you want something, you have to tell me love"

(grouped for similarity!)

it feels like hours have passed since chan started, and you’re sure you’ve already soaked through your panties from how turned on you are. it’s almost torturous not being able to touch him or yourself when he’s leaving hickies on your neck while grinding on you, his clothed erection pressing against you with every jut of his hips.

you can feel him smirking against your skin from how much you’re squirming, so overcome with desire that you think you’ll cry if he keeps not letting you touch him. “what do you want, hm?” he purrs, making you shiver from the way his breath tickles your ear. “you have to use your words if you want something.”

“y-you, chan, please…”

your boyfriend pulls away briefly to pout at you mockingly. “that’s not good enough, baby. you have to be more specific.”

you groan out in frustration and try to move against him for some much needed stimulation, but his hands find your hips to pin you to the chair, and you wonder how much longer his teasing will last until you snap and grind down on the chair instead. “chan,” you whimper, reaching for his biceps to clutch at the defined muscles, “i want you.”

a cocky grin tugs at his chan’s as he gently grabs your wrists to pry your hands off him, pleased at the desperate whine this elicits from you. “you want me how, baby?”

you tilt your head back the second his lips are back on your neck, moaning softly when he starts nipping at your neck before soothing the area with his tongue. “w-want your cock,” you pant breathlessly, “want you to fuck me hard… please, chan, please—”

“shhh, it’s okay,” he coos, but it really isn’t, your core is throbbing with need and you wouldn’t be surprised if your arousal has left a damp spot on the chair. you almost cry out with relief at his next words.

“i’ll take care of you now, okay? my pretty baby’s been so good for me.”

— admin lily (hihi your local feral dinonara is back)

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 21. brb x oc

a/n: okay this chapter was sweet. uwu (also yeah, guess Evelyn's father is finally known ehe)

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none besides fluff, the girls having fun and Rooster being a mush hearted guy uwu

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21

-

It’s been two weeks since they last talked and while she felt a bit anxious sometimes, she knew deep in her heart he was okay, he was just very busy and couldn’t chat all the time. He told her the time they’d all come back, so she shouldn’t be so worried, even if her brain would sometimes pop less than welcome suggestions of outcomes she knew it was just her anxiety playing tricks on her.

Shells and Penny both knew the time Bob and Mav were coming back as well, the older woman being the voice of reason when the other two would get too into their heads with fears and worries. When asked how she did it, Penny said she’s been without Pete for a long time but something inside of her always said they’d see each other again, the feeling never disappeared whenever he was away so she used that as confirmation that he’ll be fine.

But Beatrice understood her words, because while her brain would rattle with anxious thoughts her heart would calm her down with words of ‘he’s okay, he’s coming back.’. Beatrice always thought the voice in her head, the intuition voice, often sounded like her nonna’s thick Sicilian accent. 

She enjoyed working at the bar because it gave her a distraction, especially now that Penny got that fancy ice machine and they’d stop using the bags of ice. While they did help, it was just because the old machine started acting weird and Penny didn’t want it to suddenly go out in the middle of a busy night. So now they are just preparing the bar for when the machine arrived, which would be on this Friday afternoon, thankfully Penny let the patrons know that, meaning the chances of anyone showing up were minimal.

Even if they did, the doors would be locked and there’d be a huge ‘under maintenance’ sign pinned on it. Hopefully they’d be back up to speed on Saturday night. 

Right now,they were all cleaning the bar for when the machine got there, moving stuff out of the way so it’d be spacious enough for it to pass. Shells took some trash out while the two other women were inside, making her way to the green trash bin down the street, looking up when she saw something move ahead of her.

Her steps slowed down while her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, keeping her eyes on a woman who stood on the beach like a sore thumb. She opened the bin with her vision still on the lady, dropping the trash bags inside, narrowing her eyes a bit. The woman had thick and long black hair that fluttered with the wind alongside her long geometric patterned red and blue dress, her arms up in what she could only describe as a ‘praise to the sun’ position. 

Shells didn’t know if she should say something, so she didn’t, she just backed away silently into the bar. Once she got in, she jutted her thumb over her shoulder “Never thought I’d say that, but I saw a hippie lady on the beach,” Penny stopped her cleaning to stare at her niece, “Swear to God, long colorful dress and everything.”

“Did she say something?” Shells shook her head negatively, walking further into the bar.

“I didn’t get close,” with her back turned she didn’t see Beatrice walking back from the storage room with a clean rag in her hands, “I swear I thought it was Janis Joplin coming back from the dead, half expected her to sing Me and Bobby McGee.” Beatrice’s question of who they were talking about made Shells turn her body to face the brunette, “Some lady on the beach, she was like preaching the sun or something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, had this long boho dress and everything.” she didn’t notice how Beatrice’s face changed, “Long black hair too, it was like we were back in 1969.”

Beatrice blinked, parting her lips, “Where did you see her?” Shells explained the location past the trash bins, frowning at Bea’s expression before the brunette walked out of the bar to check the outside. The woman in question was no longer on the beach, now she was walking through the parking lot with her sandals hooked on her fingers, long black hair moving with the wind, “Oh my God…” Shells peeked over Bea’s shoulder, “That’s my aunt.”

“...your…aunt??” she repeated, “I…your aunt is a hippie? Listen don’t get me wrong but I met your parents, they are anything but free love friendly.”

“My aunt was always the odd one out,” Beatrice explained, looking back at Penny, “Can I just talk to her real quick? She never comes down here.” the older woman nods and Beatrice wipes her hands on her jeans, walking out of the Hard Deck to meet the statuesque figure of her aunt coming closer. 

Her aunt, who looked younger than her own age - blessings on the dna - smiled when Beatrice approached, opening her arms wide, “Hello my love,” her soft spoken tone said, humming happily when Beatrice hugged her, the black haired woman squeezing her niece tighter, “Oh, I’m really happy to see you.”

Unlike her twin, Beatrice’s father, Martha’s Italian accent was milder but it came out whenever she had to roll her r’s and the vowel was open, which added to her soft spoken voice made her sound almost mystical. While her siblings joked their own mother was a witch, they were sure that aunt Martha was a witch without a doubt, “I’m happy to see you too but,what are you doing here,auntie?”

Martha smiled, looking up to the sky, “I felt like taking a walk.”

“...from–from your house?” the other woman nods and Beatrice blinks, “But you live in Escondido…”

“I used my bike silly.” her aunt giggles,as if it wasn’t still a three hours ride “I didn’t really walk all the way down here.” her aunt’s eyes shone with mirth, looking down at her niece, cupping her cheeks and turning her head left and right, before closing her eyes in silence. Beatrice blinked, waiting for her aunt to say something, ‘You feel lighter, my love,” her aunt says with her eyes still closed, “Your heart feels free, like a sparrow…my darling girl you are in love.”

Now she wasn’t expecting that type of information. Okay, her aunt was the mystical sort of woman who she was sure could control the weather if she so desired, but she still freaked her out a bit when she said things like that, “I-I…”

“Yes…yes you are in love,” Martha opened her eyes to show the light brown irises staring down at her niece,  “What a joy it is.” she drops her hands from Bea’s cheeks, to place both of her own on top of her heart, “I am very happy for you.”

‘...t-thank you auntie,” Beatrice looked over her shoulder to the Hard Deck, a blonde head peeking out with her eyebrows furrowed “Um…but you didn’t say why you showed up. Is everything okay?”

“Why, everything is more than okay.” Martha smiles, “I simply wanted to see you…and give you this.” from a hidden pocket in her dress, Martha pulls out an envelope, an envelope that looked a lot like the wedding invitation Bea got months ago. The brunette blinked, her eyes going from the envelope to her aunt, before she slowly grabbed it from her hand.

“Um…auntie you already invited me, remember?I’m one of your bridesmaids.” she chuckles softly, moving her eyes downward to the cream colored envelope, “Why would you need to–” the name written on the paper, in curved bronze letters, was her name…and Bradley’s. Beatrice’s soul left her body and she immediately paled while looking down at the invitation, holding with both hands now. No, she asked her parents to not do this! 

“Your father thought it’d be a good idea.” Martha smiles, oblivious to her niece’s turmoil, “So, it’s your new invitation, I even told the hotel to prepare the room for two.” Beatrice’s wide eyes slowly moved upwards to her grinning aunt, “Everyone will be so happy to meet him.”

Yes, every single one of her family members on both of her parents sides, including the ones from Sicily “O-Oh,” Bea’s words were soft and quiet, with a slight tremble to them, “How nice of you, a-auntie, but–” her aunt just smiles more, nodding her head “But,um he’s deployed and I don’t…think he’ll be here before the wedding,” that was a lie, obviously, but her aunt didn’t have to know that. Her aunt, amazingly just blinked in her direction, she had a feeling that the woman didn’t believe her one bit.

“Well my darling, something in me says he’ll be back sooner than that.” Bea’s smile faltered with an awkward laugh leaving her lips, “Trust me, it will be fine.” her aunt leans down to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead, who in turn stays immobile, not being able to say anything in return, “I’ll see you two then.”

“But–”

“Je t’aime mon petit Beatrice, au revoir!” her aunt waves her goodbye with a flourish, long dress flapping with the wind as she makes her way back to her bike, climbing on it and riding away from the Hard Deck. Beatrice dropped her arms to her sides, backing away until she touched the walls of the bar, her eyes staring at nothing.

Shells walked out to meet her outside, looking from the brunette to the strange woman riding away on her bike, “Sooo…what did she want?” She got no reply, but she saw Bea lift a shaky hand to show an envelope, “You want me to–okay,” she picked the envelope up, seeing her name and Rooster’s on the paper. “...ah.” the brunette slides down onto the sidewalk, placing her head on her hands, with Shells crouching next to her, “I guess you didn’t plan on this, huh?”

“I told my parents I didn’t want to take Brad, do you know how many people will be there in total?? Over one hundred!” Beatrice groans, slapping her hands over her eyes “God not to mention my cousins who will immediately sniff the fresh new man within a five miles radius and hound him like a pack of starving hyenas, making jokes about how much I paid for his company.” 

Shells frowned, flipping the envelope back and forth, “So what do you plan on doing? He was invited.” Beatrice dropped her hands to her sides, looking at the envelope for a good five seconds before she snatched it from Shells’ hand.

“I’m going to hide it and use my own invitation to get in. He doesn’t need to know.”

“I mean…sure, but wouldn’t that also give something for your family to talk about?” Shells added helpfully, “How possible is it that most of them know about him?”

“...very possible.” the brunette sighed, running a hand through her haid, “I-I can’t do this to him, can you imagine? I wanted him to meet my family, my parents and siblings, not the whole pack of wolves. God, my uncle Roberto will ask him about the Navy and make comparisons to when he went to war too,uuuuuuuuuughh…”

Shells pursed her lips, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear when the wind picked up, only to grab the invitation from Bea’s hand again, “I think you should at least mention it to him, then he could say if he thinks it’s okay to go or not.” she says, “He’s a big boy, Bea, he has the right to say yes or no.”

“...I…you are right.” she sighs, the back of her head hitting the wall as she looks up to the clouds slowly rolling by, “I can’t just do that, he has to give me his answer…and I hate it. I hate it because I know my whole family way too much…but, you are right.”

“Like always,” Shells smiles, standing up alongside Bea who laughs in response, “But how about we go out tonight? To relax?We won’t come to work after all.”

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“I do, I was thinking of The Singing Stop, that karaoke bar with those private booths for you to use instead of a stage,” she pulls out her phone, “Friday is free for the ladies and if you go in a trio you get extra chicken wings.”

“Were you planning on inviting Penny?”

“I tried,” Shells said, flicking through her phone, “But she said she’d like to stay home with Melia tonight, so, who is our next option? Who’s the one person who’d always be up for Karaoke night? Evelyn.”

Evelyn did love karaoke, Shells wasn’t wrong. She’d get very into it, pulling a whole performance while singing too, “Well, okay, sure. Did you talk to her yet?”

“Um, yes,” she says, following Bea inside the bar, “I sure did, she already said yes. By the way, we’ll definitely get hammered so we’ll need an Uber.” Beatrice frowned, looking back at the blonde with a worried face “Okaaay, maybe not that hammered, just enough to see double.”

It was Penny’s voice that interrupted their talking, walking past them holding a bucket of water, “as long as the two of you can stand tomorrow night, that’s fine by me.” she chuckles, “Now come on, we have to finish everything in fifteen minutes.”

-

“They better have Mr.Brightside or I’m rioting.” Evelyn said as they walked into the karaoke bar, the 70s color palette of reds, yellows and blues adorning them. Evelyn was the first to walk to one of the employees, asking for a private room alongside a qr code menu, giving the other two a smile when the man said to follow him.

The room was yellow with inner lights on the walls, shining down the U shaped dark blue seats in front of a tv and a coffee table separated the two parts of the couch to be in front of one another. Once they all got inside and closed the door, Evelyn removed her dark suit jacket to expose the black tube top underneath, already checking the songs while Bea and Shells took their seats.

Shells would be the one responsible for the drinks and snacks for the night, “Okay, we already have extra chicken wings but what are we feeling tonight for drinks? I think we should get some beer.”

“I’m okay with that,” Ev said, still looking for her song with her back to the two, “Beer and chicken wings, nothing better.”

“I’m okay with it too,” said Bea, placing her green jacket to the side, combing her hair over her shoulder while crossing her legs by the knee as Shells set their order. The brunette tilted her head to Evelyn, who let out a sound of triumph when she found her song, she didn’t play it yet, instead she let the name hover on the screen before sitting down next to Bea with a sigh.

“When was the last time the three of us went out together?” Evelyn asked, crossing her own legs.

“Oh, oof,” Beatrice chuckles, looking away to wrack her memory, “I think it was two weeks after grad? Then we all went our own ways.”  she turns towards Evelyn with a small smile, “How’s it going on getting the old team back?”

Evelyn sighed, her lips pursing in a frown, “Honestly, I managed to get Eliza and Carmen too, but like, Tori? Out of the question, she joined an MLM and would just offer us her products instead of playing for real.”

“We all knew Tori was weird,” Shells voice said, lowering her phone once the order was sent, “So I won’t lie and say she’ll be missed, cause she won’t.” 

The three women reminisced for a while longer until their snacks arrived. Shells made sure to record their night out to the best of her ability, saying it was a once in a lifetime thing, they needed to have it archived for the future. 

“Okay, I think I’ll tackle the elephant in the room,” Shells began, gesturing a chicken bone to Evelyn’s direction, “Why isn’t Ms.Evelyn Simpson dating anyone?” the dark haired woman rolled her eyes, choosing to sip her beer instead, “Because we know you are a looker, you could have any guy you wanted.”

“Is your dad a vice admiral?” Evelyn retorted, arching her eyebrows, “Is he a pain in the ass?”

“You can’t prevent yourself from dating because of your dad, Ev,” Bea replied softly, wiping her mouth with a napkin, “Who knows? Maybe there’s a perfect guy for you somewhere, just waiting.”

“Or maybe it’s just Hangman.” Shells snickered, laughing louder when Beatrice tossed the napkin her way, with the blonde’s laughter diminishing to quiet giggles.

“I’d rather chug a gallon of bleach,” Evelyn murmured, “He’s so typical, like he’s a mold of every navy type there is…unlike Bea’s pilot.” she gestured her thumb in the brunette’s direction, “By the way, let’s be honest, the two of them are nauseating.” she said to Shells, who cackled even louder much to their curvy friend’s surprise, “I mean, good God I thought I’d develop type 2 diabetes just by standing near them.”

“Babes you have no idea.” Shells smirks, “It’s so painfully sweet I swear I feel like vomiting sometimes.”

“...I don’t know how to feel about all that…”

Evelyn smiled, draping her arms over Bea’s shoulder, “You should be happy because while we both feel our teeth rotting, we like seeing you with someone who likes you so much.,” Shells nods in agreement, lifting her beer “Because you deserve it, after all the shit He Who Shall Not Be Named did to you.” 

The two of them were with Beatrice during the last months of her relationship with Eric, they were with her when she’d had her panic attacks and they were with her when she shared she wanted to end things for real this time. They really just wanted the best for Beatrice, which they knew for a fact it wasn’t Eric, so when she finally cut things off with him, they had a celebration…at a karaoke bar.

“...Thanks guys, I really,” Beatrice blushed, looking down at her hands, “I really like Bradley,” she almost said the L word again but she didn’t feel like saying it now, not without Brad knowing it first “He’s very special to me.”

“Just please name your first kid after me,” Shells added, “‘Cause without me, neither of you would’ve gotten together. Evelyn you should’ve seen it, it was like two pre school kids who never acted up, Ugh! Rooster just kept looking at Bea who only looked at him when he wasn’t looking and it was driving me insane. I had to step in.”

Beatrice hummed, narrowing her eyes playfully at her friend but only sipping her beer with a little smile, “Well,I thank you for stepping in then, I’m very very happy…which reminds me, what about you and Bob?” It was interesting to see how Shells’ expression softened and she touched the rim of her bottle with a little smile.

“I like him a lot too.” The usually loud blonde said quietly, “He’s so sweet, a bit shy at first but, he’s incredibly sweet…and god he’s so good in bed. You’d never think so under that sweet façade he has.But it’s like the phrase goes: gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets!”

The laughter reverberated around the room, with the three girls clicking their bottles together in celebration. Not long after that, Evelyn wiped her hands clean to stand to her feet, grabbing the mic, “Okay, it’s my time to shine.”

“You always choose Mr.Brightside,” Shells chuckled, “Don’t you have other options?”

“Listen as an emo child of the 2000’s I have to start with this song, either that or Helena by MCR.” she explains, shrugging before pressing play so the known melody would start. Evelyn would always get into the songs, no matter what kind, so when she stood still as a rod in the middle of the room with the mic to her mouth, “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine-”

Shells lifted her phone to record Evelyn’s performance, who while in the beginning of the song stood still as a rod, tossed her head forward violently once she hit the ‘but this is the price I pay!’, clenching the air dramatically, with her hair tossing back when ‘Mr.Brightside left her mouth.

The other two girls cheered, clapping their hands when Evelyn continued her performance, kicking and headbanging and playing air guitar until she finally dropped to her knees when the song ended with her chest heaving. She was glistening with sweat, like she was the one in concert instead of The Killers, but she smiled at her friends hollering her name. 

Evelyn gracefully stood to her feet, bowing in thanks “Okay, who’s next?”

“Oh, me!” Shells scrambled to her feet, giving Bea the phone “I wanna sing Get Outta My Way, by Kylie.”

“Oh my god, and you call me a song repeater??”

“Um, I choose a variety of Kylie songs okay? My queen deserves nothing less.” Shells smiles, flipping through the list until she finds it. Much like Evelyn, she too put on a performance with a lot of hair flipping and hand motions, mimicking some of Kylie Minogues’ choreography - some not even from this specific song - but either she was having a blast, while Evelyn and Bea cheered on, the latter filming the whole ordeal.

When she was done with the song, she finished with the mic up in the air and a tired smile on her face, waving off the clapping with a smile, “Okay, now,” she offers the mic to Beatrice, who blinks up in surprise, “Your turn bumblebea.”

“Oh, oh okay.” Beatrice switched the phone for the mic, adjusting her ripped jeans on her legs before looking at her friends, “I never know what song to sing.”

With the phone up, Shells shouts, “Great Balls of Fire! Do it! Sing it!”

“I don’t even know if they have it!” The idea of singing Rooster’s songs suddenly made her cheeks heat up, but she couldn’t help but be excited if she could sing it. So she turned to the TV, biting her lower lip while checking the song list, “Oh my god…they do. Should I sing it?”

“Yes!” Shells shouted, “You better do that! Sing for your man away from you!”

Beatrice laughed nervously, she didn’t know why she was so nervous about singing it. She wished she was singing it with Rooster…but, well, he wasn’t here. She hoped he wouldn’t be upset because she did it without him. With one final breath of courage, she pressed play, biting her lower lip while smiling as the known piano keys appeared.

It took her some time to let loose, even with the beer in her system, she felt a bit awkward while singing along. Until the first Great Balls of Fire made itself known, then she just got into it. Between shimmying her shoulders and dramatic hand motions, Shells was sure Beatrice’s movements were very similar to Rooster’s whenever he played it.

She didn’t plan on telling her friend of the video she’d send the pilot, just because she didn’t want Bea to be against it. Evelyn and Shells hooted for Beatrice whenever she moved with the song, clearly happy to see their friend having so much fun. By the time the song ended, Beatrice was breathing hard but smiling even harder, laughing when the other two stood up to hug her close.

They stood there for a couple more hours, between drinking and singing - even singing together to Katy Perry’s California Gurls with Shells demanding to sing Snoop Dogg’s part on the song - until they left the bar. They were stumbling a bit, but not enough to consider themselves too drunk to know what they were doing.

They didn’t plan on going home yet, so they just wandered up the street laughing to one another - Evelyn almost losing her balance twice only for Beatrice to hold her up. They ended up in an empty skate park, still singing and dancing like the music was still playing. 

Shells pointed the phone up to the dancing Beatrice, who sang Madonna’s Like a Virgin while moving much like in Tiff’s class, “Hey Bea!” the brunette stopped, looking right at the camera, “Can you do something for me?”

-

Bradley yawned quietly, rubbing his face as he lay on the bottom bunk, grabbing his phone to set his alarm. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw that Shells sent him a message on instagram. He had no idea why she’d message him and not Bob, but if he knew Shells it was nothing good.

So he opened it, expecting some weird meme she found online…but it wasn’t. Instead it was several videos of no one other but Beatrice. He looked up at the top bunk, hearing Fanboy turn on his mattress, before he leaned into his bag to pick up his air pods. Once connected he thumbed the screen up to the first video, pressing play and his whole body reacted when he noticed the song Beatrice was singing along to.

His lips parted in surprise, watching her move and sing to her heart’s content to his song. Well, not his song but the song he would always play at the bar. Rooster could only watch, mesmerized, watching his girlfriend sing Great Balls of Fire on a karaoke machine, laughing and dancing, almost oblivious to Shells’ filming her. He let out a soft laugh, then covered his mouth when she flipped her hair and pursed her lips at the ‘you kissed me baby!’ part of the song, shimmying her shoulders along with the beat.

The video stopped and he had to mentally recover from what he just saw, before he went to the next one which was Beatrice this time singing I Want to Know What Love is by Foreigner, just into the song as the first one before watching the last one that was I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston. She looked really gorgeous whenever she had fun, with her laugh leaving her lips and dancing like there was nothing stopping her.

He couldn’t help but also notice how beautiful she looked, with her sleeveless turtleneck top and ripped jeans, hair flowy and shining under the lights. God he missed her so much. Did Shells send that to him just to make him suffer? Because it was working. There was another notification from Shells, she sent yet another video. This time they weren’t in the bar anymore, they were in what he assumed to be a park, so he got comfortable on his bunk and pressed play yet again.

“Bea! Bea!Look!” Beatrice’s eyes were glazed but she smiled at the camera and he couldn’t help but smile back, she was definitely buzzed, “Look, if you had to say anything to Rooster right now, what would you say?” wait, what?

Beatrice blinked, licking her lips as she thought about it, “I’d say…that I miss him, a lot but he knows I do!” she giggles, “...and…that he makes me very happy and that I think he’s the sweetest, kindest, hottest guy I’ve ever met. That I still can’t believe he’s mine and that…ummmm…that his mouth tastes sweet, like honey and I can’t get enough of him! His lips are soooooooo soft and so nice!hmmm, but,but I also!” she makes a point to hold up a finger, “I think he’s brave and he makes me feel safe, he makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt before!” she giggles, then blinks at the camera, “Why do you ask?”

Shells turns the camera to her face, “Oh, no reason, just curious.” she smirks down at the camera, finally stopping the video.Rooster stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then let the device fall screen first on his chest, rubbing his face with both hands, groaning quietly into his palms. How was he to deal with this? With her? He couldn’t just run to her and pick her up to kiss her like no tomorrow, he still had a few more weeks to go by before he returned.

His chest warmed up with feelings, with pure love for this girl, who cared for him and believed in him so much without a single doubt within her. He dropped his hands, sucking in a shaky breath before he looked back down to his phone, only seeing that Shells left him a ‘>:P’ emoji that he chose not to reply to, he knew she wouldn’t mind either.

He makes her feel safe. She mentioned to him during their first time together that his room felt like safety to her…and he couldn’t imagine a better compliment to have from someone he loved so much. Rooster sighed sweetly, closing his eyes with a smile before he finally set up his alarm, giving one last look at the video just so he could have her voice in his head before he slipped into dreamland. 

He slid the phone under his pillow, still smiling when he finally fell asleep.

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

lati- your abyss lector thirst got me clenching my thighs and gasping for air because??? holy??? shit??? it's so fucking H O T YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOUR THIRST TURNED ME ON- GOT ME HEAVING AIR BECAUSE OF HOW BREATHLESS IT MADE ME AAAAA 😩😋 PLS DO MORE IF YOU DONT MIND BECAUSE IT LITERALLY TRIGGERED MY SIZE KINK AND BREEDING KINK- PLS 😭💕✨💕✨

hi hi anon!

awww of course! i plan to write much more for enjou in the near future since he was such an enjoyable character to interact with; he has a charming way of talking, although he could be a fuckin moron. but he still had personality, which really set him apart from the rest of the abyss lectors/heralds. just really fun interacting with him overall.

nsfw and slight spoilers below!

okay, so can you imagine just making it a thing where you secretly meet up with enjou, whether in the depths and solitude of enkanomiya or in the confines of your own home and you basically just fuck yourself stupid on enjou's monster cock on a near weekly basis?? like damn, he's got you addicted to the feeling of getting stuffed with his huge cock and fucked full with his cum until it's spurting out each time you even so much as move. and you aren't exactly ashamed about it either; you're a massive pervert about it, lewdly moaning and chanting his name like a prayer while you fuck yourself stupid, even licking a stripe on his blackened, armor-like skin just to rile him up further. since you know he's far too awkward to even try and fuck you, plus he's got a soft spot for you.

but it can get real tiring. y'know? sure you're having the absolute time of your life, but your leg muscles are absolutely sore by the end of each session, and if it weren't for enjou holding you up, you'd have collapsed hours ago. so you've started suggesting that he put in some work too, since he has to learn at some point. he's nodding along, adding in some quips that earned him a whack on the head. sometimes you wonder how he's even gotten this far passing as a human.

also i've seen fanart of him where the rest of him is a tall and lean abyss lector body but his normal human face is still there. like, just imagine this very hot, very tall and well-built man fucking you into the mattress like you're a whore, but he's doing what makes you happy so it's really wholesome.

--

" like this...?" enjou murmured questioningly, his brows furrowing as he readjusted his grip on your hips, nudging away the stray strands that fell into his vision. you wriggled your hips, trying to push down the swelling arousal that was being built up from easily being manhandled and the anticipation that came with it.

" mhmm," you hummed, smiling contentedly as he fixed himself in the right position where you wouldn't strain yourself too much. " are you sure? i've heard that there many more positi-" you cut him off," y-yeah, i'm good," with an impatient huff. he merely hummed, accepting your decision. you couldn't tell if he was smiling or notーyour face was near buried in the plush pillow beneath it if it weren't for your arms holding you up. and enjou was pressed right against your plush ass, his huge cock throbbing and pulsing against your skin - it felt so hot against your skin.

you'd somehow convinced him to appear in a more...ideal form. you didn't care too much about his true lector form, but you had wanted to see what would happen if he kept his human face while morphing his body into that of his true form, andー

fuck he was hot.

somehow he'd grown much more attractive, his eyes becoming sharper yet retaining their fiery orange gaze; his raven locks had become more jutted and silky-

his features had become much more sharper and handsome. and he didn't even know it. a part of you briefly wondered if all lectors would be this handsome if they were to disguise themselves as humans, but you shooed that thought away quickly. enjou was enough for you.

you glanced back, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before spreading yourself open wider, which he seemed to understand and aligned his thick cock head against your puckering holeーyou shuddered in delight, craving the delicious pleasure of his-

" oughhhh-?!"

you let out a cracked moan as the huge length was shoved in without any warning, stretching open your walls and pressing right up against the spot that made you see stars.

" nhaah! y-you...didn't i say...slow?" you moaned out, not even really caring since it felt so fucking good that you couldn't even be bothered to be mad at enjou for accidentally rushing it. " a-ah, a-apologizes," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he let out hot, deep breathsーhe could never get used to how damn tight and good you were. if you weren't so damn horny, you'd have cooed at how cute he was, but you were getting impatient already.

he groaned, slowly sliding his hips back and forthーslowly, slowlyーas he adjusted to the new position and the lewd sight of your back arching from pleasure beneath him. " hehe...i think i came a lil'," you deliriously giggled, the embarrassment of cumming from being entered being drowned out by your more carnal desires. "i-is that so?" enjou breathed, his hips movements speeding up with each passing minute.

"uhuhhh," you slurred, lopsidedly grinning as you went to grip the bedsheets beneath you for more stability. fuuuckkk, you were already seeing stars and he'd barely begun moving. who cared anyway, enjou knew not to stop until you were both satisfied. and seeing as how your desire would last quite a while, he'd be there for a long time.

" heeyy enjou," you breathily called out, turning your head to side to hold him within your line of vision. he hummed, silky voice cracking as he slowed his thrusts to listen to what you'd say.

you grinned, your sheer arousal winning over everything.

" fuck me lots, okay♡?"

--

" nhaaaah♡! nhg! nnh♡! ngh- gh♡! hn! uh!"

" f-fuck - o-oh gods yes!!"

you deliriously moaned out, gripping the bedsheets in one hand while the other had tangled itself in enjou's raven locks. your vision was completely hazy as you had just came for the - ninth? tenth? you lost count after fifteen, but all you knew was that you were utterly addicted to enjou and his monster cock. you thanked your lucky stars for having sought him out.

enjou himself had become near as delirious as you, his handsome features twisted with pleasure as your tight, gummy walls squeezed down on his huge cock. he'd even started moaning - deep moans that sent shivers through your body and pooled even more heat down south.

" oh god! nnh! right-nnh-there♡! yes♡!! " you cried it out, not caring if anyone heard you, you were too pleasure-drunk to even care. "-umming! cumming! i'm cumming♡!" your mind was going blank. " more! harder! fuck me harder♡!!"

you sounded like a fucking whore, but you didn't care - you wanted enjou to fuck you until you'd break. you vaguely heard him groan loudly, whispering your name - chanting it as if to keep himself from drowning in an ocean of lust and desire.

you frowned, although it merely faded as you pressed a hand against his smooth cheek gently, to which he glanced at you before you-

you sealed your lips against his, firmly.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping him against your wet cavern as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. he seemed to be a bit shocked, but it soon became a return gesture, his lips hungrily devouring yours as his grip on the bedsheets tightened even more. and with that, you locked him in place with your legs, trapping his monster cock and creamy cum inside your oversensitive walls but he didn't seem to either notice or care - probably the latter.

" mmnghh-nnghhh-♡!!" you moaned against his firm lips, his huge cock kissing your deepest parts and rubbing against that one spot that-

fuckfuckfuckfuck

cummingcummingcumming-♡!!

you gave one last push against him as you came, your vision filling with white as enjou pressed himself as deep as possible into your spasming and tight hole, a muffled groan escaping his interlocked lips with yours before he pulled away.

you let out a garbled moan, your eyes having rolled nearly back into their sockets from how good enjou had fucked you. all that you could hear was his and your heavy breaths, trying to catch your breaths after having fucked the living daylights out of each other barely moments before.

" h-hey, who said we were done?"

red-orange irises met hazy but determined ( eye color ) ones as you feebly pulled your knees back to your shoulders, presenting your cum-filled and stretched open hole to his gaze. he paused, before grinning back - clearly neither of you were satisfied just yet.

" don't hold back, okay♡?"

[ddejavvu]

meiiiii how r u !!

may i pls get some filthy lovely spencer x virgin!reader content 💞

First Time Jitters - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (PREVIEW)

Summary: You express to Spencer how nervous you are to lose your virginity, and he assures you that you don't have to do anything you don't want to. But you do want to, and you're grateful for his help while he guides you through your first time.

Contents/Warnings: smut (18+, minors dni.), self-doubts, reader gets nervous, gentle, soft sex, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex

this is just the preview for the full fic. the full fic will be posted 24h from now, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, and thank you for reading! the full fic has been posted here.

"Spencer," You whimpered, your hands shooting out to push against his chest, "I'm scared."

He stilled, his eyes flitting to your own from where they'd been glued to your neck. You squeezed your thighs together, and he took your hint, removing his hand and bracing it on the bedsheets instead.

"What are you scared of?" His voice was soothing and subtle, and he inched forwards slightly, his face over your own instead of pressed into your throat. The relaxed position calmed you down even more than his voice had, your anxiety lessening slightly at the familiar comfort of your lover.

"What if it hurts?" You felt hot, sticky tears brimming in your eyes and you brushed one away angrily, ashamed that you weren't able to embrace the moment.

--

"Hey," Spencer's eyes never left yours, no judgement apparent in his expression, "That's okay. If you're not ready for this, we can wait. We don't have to at all, if you don't want to. You're in control."

You nodded, reaching up once more to smear a tear across your cheek, "I- I want to, I just.."

"It's okay." Spencer repeated, "Any hesitation is hesitation enough for us to stop."

--

"Spencer," You called warily, watching him stuff one foot in his boxers, "Wait."

"Hm?"

"Can I.." You glanced down at his cock, now softening, but still hanging thick and heavy between his legs, "I want to taste you."

--

"God," He panted from above you, "You- You're uh, enjoying this, aren't you?"

You whined softly around his cock, swiping your tongue over his slit.

"You're drooling," He mumbled incredulously, swiping up a string of saliva that seeped out of your lips, "And I'm not even inside of you."

He let another few seconds of silence pass, the only sounds in the room being the lewd sounds of your lips on his cock. Then you felt his hips jut upwards, bucking further into your mouth while he pushed your head down once more.

He forced his cock as far into your mouth as possible, his voice raspy and rugged as he breathed, "I- god, just think about what you'd do if- if I was inside of you."

this is just the preview for the full fic. the full fic will be posted 24h from now, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, and thank you for reading! the full fic has been posted here.

[songbirdstyles]

i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

You’ve hardly glanced in Harry’s eyes as he walks into the foyer of your London apartment before you feel your back slam into the door behind you - your head thumps against the wood and a groan threatens to rip out of your throat but he steals it before you get the chance to make the noise, lips on yours and tongue stuck down your throat.

Your hands have nowhere else to go but to bury themselves in his hair, fingers curling around chocolate brown curls and tugging until you hear the soft hitch in his breath that indicates just how much your grasp affected him. And, God, it did affect him, clearly, as he pushes his hips further against yours until you can feel the thick bulge in his pelvis grinding against the softness of your inner thigh as you hike your leg up to hoist around his waist. He moves one arm from where he had been grasping your throat as if to steady him to the present and his free hand grasps the underside of your thigh, pulling it further up his abdomen until the stretch in your muscle makes you whine.

“Jesus fuck, Har -”

He shuts you up from whatever you were going to mutter as he deepens the kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as his knee grinds into your cunt until you’re crying out, goosebumps overtaking every square inch of your skin even through the thick sweatshirt adorning your upper half. You hadn’t had much of anything valuable to say, anyway, but it’s the principle of his interruption that makes you grasp for his cheeks and pull his face from yours with a heaving gasp.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

You’d almost be concerned about Harry’s state if you couldn’t feel him rutting his cock against your thigh - his face is red and hot, eyes half lidded and breaths panting and desperate with each sharp inhale of oxygen. Christ, he looks a sight in the best way possible, and your instinct is to snap your thighs shut at the feeling that rushes through your body when he leans in, pressing soft lips to the sweaty skin of your throat so it muffles his response. His hands find the hem of your sweatshirt (or his sweatshirt, really) and you have half a mind to raise your arms so he can pull his lips from your neck to tug the cloth off of your torso before he finds a vein in your throat with a newfound vigor, sliding his other hand up to grope at your bare tit like a teenage boy whose only just seen one for the first time.

“Jus’ wanna love on you, hmm - wanna love on m’girl, please -”

“Hmm -”

He grunts, then. Nips at a vein in your neck that pulsates beneath his lapping tongue and you can’t help but giggle, however childlike and naive the noise sounds, but it’s enough for him to drop your thigh from around your waist - grab your cheeks and spin you around, pushing you backwards and backwards until your feet hardly feel like they’re moving, like you’re floating through the entryway of your apartment until you reach the kitchen. Though Harry loves fucking you every which way in your bed, huge and comfortable and soft, there’s something primal about pushing you against the kitchen table and ripping down your flannel sweatpants and burying himself into your heat that you know he secretly prefers over the sacred oasis of your bedroom.

Your lower back hits the edge of the island but it doesn’t stay there long before he turns you around, pushing the front of your body against the island until your body has folded in half to bend over the slab of marble, cold against your bare tits and stomach. Your boyfriend reaches around to the front of your sweatpants, then, arms wrapped around your thighs to shakily untie the knot that you had carefully tied in the strings of your pajama pants - his chest rises and falls against your back, hips still pushing into yours over and over and you jut your ass out to meet the grind of his cock against the clothed globes of your ass.

“Tied this thing fuckin’ tight, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d try to rip them off like an animal,” you retort, lifting your hips from where they’re firmly pressed to the edge of the island once Harry has successfully untied the knot, tugging your pants down the slope of your ass until they unceremoniously drop to a puddle at your feet, and you impatiently kick them off as Harry snaps the waistband of your panties just to hear you squeal. “Come on, Har - know you’re impatient -”

“Mmm.”

His finger slide beneath your panties, knuckle dragging through your slit that’s positively dripping with your slick, and you hear his low moan at how ready you are for him but the truth is you’ve been fucking dripping since he sent you a selfie of him in his makeup chair on set two days prior, hair messy and eyebrow arched, and it hadn’t even been a serious selfie but it still made your clit throb when you saw it. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks for filming when you’d gone a full year of almost never being apart and, fuck. Seeing him like that did things to you.

Harry’s yours, god fucking dammit. The thought makes you spread your thighs more for him as he dips his finger into your waiting hole, curling them up once just to watch how your back arches, how you moan as though you’d been coded to do so. It’s a game he likes to play, testing you, seeing just how needy you are for him even if all he wants to do is bury himself inside of you and fuck you until tears streak your cheeks and you’re begging him to cum.

No - no, he does want that, you know that. Wants it so bad it makes his knees weak, makes his stomach flip and turn, but he wants to watch you fall apart more than anything. Needs to know you want this just as much as he does, if not more, and if he were truly dedicated tonight he’d finger you until you came at least twice.

Neither of you can wait for that.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes, voice raspy and full of sex and wanting and you could nearly sob as you feel him finally start to tug them hem of his joggers and boxers over his cock. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

But - but -

“Wait.”

He pauses. The head of his cock pokes at your ass in a way that would be funny if the revelation you’d just been hit with hadn’t hit you yet but it has, and you turn your head to press your cheek against the marble.

“Wha’?”

“I got my birth control thing out yesterday, the one in my arm. Remember - I told you I have to get it replaced. M’getting it tomorrow.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen, then, that hangs heavy over the both of you as you hear Harry’s shaky breathing behind you. And then -

“Did you just get harder?”

Harry exhales and even without seeing him you can picture the smile on his face as he presses his hips further into yours - “M’sorry - s’hot, babe.”

“Me not being on birth control is hot?”

“Yes,” and as if for extra reassurance of just what he means, Harry pushes his cock between your thighs until it’s slotted in your slit, head nudging your clit and making your legs quiver and shake as the stimulation rolls over you, eyes rolling back and head feeling fuzzy. “Makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

There’s a quick consideration, you suppose - of the possibility of getting pregnant and the fact that you know there’s probably not even a single condom in your apartment for him to quickly put on, and even if there was the moment would die - and, come on, you’ve been together for almost 4 years and you’ve talked about kids in passing. If it happens it happens - that’s been your philosophy on it with him.

If it happens, it happens.

And it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Harry loves kids and you love kids and more than that, you love each other like the world depends on it - could never picture yourself living life without him at this point, and more than that, there is something hot about imagining him fucking you completely raw.

“Fuck, Har,” you moan, feeling your clit spasm as you grasp the edge of the counter. “I don’t care. Fuck me, pl -”

The final word doesn’t make it out of your mouth before Harry’s slamming himself inside of you and there’s no slow or sweet - it’s raw and unfiltered, giving you half a moment to adjust to his size after two full weeks without his cock, and it’s huge, feels like it’s splitting you open, like you’re back to the first time he’d ever fucked you and you’d had the fleeting question of whether it would even fit. It did fit, though, over and over and over, and yet the first stroke always makes you gasp.

Or scream.

“Oh, shit!” your resounding moan is shrill and punctuated by your legs just about giving up, knees collapsing until the only thing holding you up is Harry’s cock slamming into your cunt over and over, his nails digging into your bare shoulder blade before scratching up to tug at your hair. Forms it into a loose ponytail to tug at your hair like a damn whip, forcing your lazed face off of the marble until you’re staring into the darkened kitchen before you with blurry, watering eyes and a cunt that already feels fucked sore from just a few thrusts.

“Oh - god,” and Harry’s voice shakes and leaks with arousal, breath picking up as he pistons into you, cock stroking spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed before him, before he had fucked you slow and sweet and made you oh so aware of every sweet spot your cunt was filled with. God, he’s good at it, at a fast unforgiving pace that makes your head spin and your throat go raw with sobs, and you slam your palm against the island with a moan. “So fuckin’ tight f’me - made for me, right?”

You don’t respond, words feeling snatched from your tongue with every stroke of his dick into your pussy, milking every drop of arousal for all that it’s worth.

“This - this fuckin’ pussy - s’mine, isn’t it?” And when his seemingly rhetorical question goes unanswered there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass that makes you shout, throat aching with the noise. “Whose fuckin’ pussy -”

“Yours!” It’s a near shriek that’s fucked out of you, and there’s another slap to your ass as you babble, “yours, Harry, yours - belongs to you -”

“Sure fuckin’ does,” and then he pulls out and you want to shout, to slam your head into the island because surely there’s nothing worse than the emptiness that fills you in the worst way possible, but just as you begin to whimper Harry is gripping your thigh, grasp tight enough that you’ll surely see bruises come morning, and he hikes your leg up over the edge of the island, exposing your near-abused pussy to him fully.

The tip of his cock runs along your slit, spreading your slickness around your folds and before you can plead with him to stop teasing he pushes back in, cock drawing along your velvet walls and eliciting a raspy moan that feels nearly involuntary at this point. His grasp on your hair is released and you nearly drop your head onto the island in surprise but then he’s leaning down, clothed chest pressed to your sweaty back, and his forearms snake beneath your neck until he’s nearly caging your neck in his arms, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

His hips pound against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowering your choked moans and yet it doesn’t quite manage to - you’re sure your downstairs neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the volume of your sobs, or perhaps they’re used to hearing you get fucked within an inch of your life just about every night. Harry going away for filming surely must have been their own vacation from being awoken every night to yours and his pathetic moans mingled together -

But their vacation is over, goddammit.

“Harry, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice staccato and quiet, and his lips close around the back of your neck until you can feel him suckling at the skin, desperate to watch your skin erupt in hickeys from his work. “Please don’t - don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” is your boyfriend’s response, nearly cruel with how nonchalant he sounds, and his pace picks up where he’s sliding in and out of you with squelching wet sounds. “Cum for me - cum f’me and m’gonna blow it, baby, blow m’fuckin’ load into your cunt -”

You whimper, making a halfhearted attempt to reach behind you and wind your arm around Harry’s neck but you can’t muster up enough strength, feeling the orgasm building in your abdomen build and build like a rubber band about to snap. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re with him, like you’re always one stolen smirk away from straddling him in front of everyone and having your way with him -

“M’gonna cum in you, baby,” Harry whispers, voice low and hot against your ear, words being shot directly into your eardrum and sending a chill up your spine that has nothing to do with the chilled temperature of the kitchen. “Gonna knock you up, right? S’what you want?”

“Yes - yes -”

“Y’want me to fill you with my cum, hmm? Get you fuckin’ pregnant? All round w’my fuckin’ kid, fill you ‘till you’re dripping -”

“Oh, God, Harry!”

“Cum on m’fucking cock. Wanna feel y’cum around me ‘fore I blow it, sweetie -” It’s all the encouragement you need, a moan mixed with a sob tearing out of your throat as you throw your head back, body nearly convulsing as your orgasm racks through you like a tsunami on shore - and it’s everything, like he’s set you aflame and left you to deal with the inferno, and not for the first time you think about how you’re fucking made for him, for this, cumming harder than you’ve ever cum in your life, the rubbr band snapping and sending waves of pleasure through you -

“Fuck!”

Your orgasm hasn’t even come close to ending when Harry’s hips slam firm against yours, pressed taut against your ass and you feel him, feel every curve and vein of his cock against your walls and your mind goes blank as he cums, warm spurts filling you every which way and it only makes it better when he moves one of his arms from beneath your neck, snaking his hand underneath your body so he can shakily rub three fingers against your clit, milking your orgasm for all that it’s worth. You clamp down on him, every sensation too much and yet not enough in the best way possible, and you swear you see nothing but stars.

There’s a beat of silence, filled only with your heaving breaths and his soft gasps for air mixing with each other in the thick, suddenly humid air of the kitchen. Harry’s chest is sweaty against your back even through his shirt, lips still pressing warm, wet kisses to the back of your neck just underneath your hairline.

“Fuck,” you breathe, soreness already settling in your throat as you swallow, somewhat regretting your vehement moans and cries and shouts but somehow not at all - “Should probably go shower.”

“Not yet.” “Not yet -?”

“Stay here for a few minutes,” your boyfriend murmurs against your damp, sweaty skin, tongue poking out to lick a thin stripe from your collarbone up to the side of your throat, lips pressing just underneath your ear. “Gotta make sure it works. Gotta make sure you’re not leaving this fuckin’ kitchen without m’fuckin’ kid inside you, baby.”

~~

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