#removed a few lines before typing it up

[clarasghosts]

clarisse

that's who you said i

reminded you of.

lent me your copy of the book

and i read it on the train

home to visit my father

three days after my grandmother died.

clarisse is killed in the first chapter.

you'd broken up with me the day before.

-burning books, g.b.y.

[mandarinmoons]

hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.

sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!

“Spence, please!”

Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.

“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”

Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.

You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.

“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”

Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.

A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.

“Hi! You’re here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”

“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”

“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”

The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.

As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.

“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”

Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.

“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”

Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.

“Spence, what did they want?”

“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”

“That’s it?”

Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”

Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.

“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”

Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.

“They were flirting with you.”

“Oh… really?”

Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.

“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”

“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”

The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[princessbrunette]

babydaddy!rafe was doing one of his weekly visits.

he was on the phone when he walked in like he owned the place, because well — technically he did. he’d practically handed you one of his families properties the second you got pregnant and refused to live at the ever dysfunctional tanny hill. he figured it was an investment, he was certain it wouldn’t be long before he was living there with you too anyway. you however, was making that plan very hard to come to light.

“just have my shit, alright? you— you know i could have someone else do your job in a second alright so, prove your worth to me… okay listen i gotta go— at my gir— uh, at my fuckin’… the mother of my daughters house. so i gotta go. email me.” he’s got the phone pressed to his ear between his cheek and shoulder as he counts a wad of money, almost in a caricature of himself. you bite your lip, awaiting him to finish up as you lead him to your room where your baby had just fallen asleep.

“hey.” he drawls with a small smile as he addresses you, pressing the cash into your hand. he did this every week, and at first you refused it — but he’d just transfer it to you on your bank app, not taking no for an answer, so you gave up fighting.

“hi.” your fingers brush his as you take it from him. “i tried to keep her awake to see you, im sorry. she had a late night.” you inform apologetically in a hushed tone, watching her father scroll over with a shrug, brushing a gentle hand over her tiny head, bending over to press a kiss to her cheek. she stirs but doesn’t awaken, the familiar touch and smell of her father not disturbing enough to remove her from her sleep, at peace. this makes your heart ache. your little girl knew her dad too well.

“yeah, that’s alright.” he stands back up, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks around the bedroom. you were always doing something new with the way you decorated, so he glances around — looking for something to use to converse with you. his face falls as his eyes land on something. now this, wasn’t the type of conversation he was looking for.

“who’s uh, who’s jacket is that?” he scratches his cheek, already holding that accusatory look in his gaze as he nods towards your vanity chair.

you turn, staring at the jacket, and at first your mind blanks. there was a few seconds where you did actually have no idea. all you knew, was that it was obviously a man’s jacket, hung almost domestically on the back of your chair like it was apart of the decor. rafe had already decided it looked too comfortable there.

“uh…” you frown, and when he walks over and plucks it up between his fingers — tossing it demonstratively onto the bed without a word. when you get a good look at it, your face suddenly lights up in recognition. like you said, the baby didn’t sleep too well last night — meaning you didn’t sleep too well. you were a little slower than usual.

“oh! its the electricians. yeah, it was hot so i took his jacket for him. he must’ve left… it.” your voice trails off when you see the look on rafe’s face. he’s squinting out a glare of disbelief, releasing a scoff when you finish talking.

“you really expect me to buy that line of shit? the electrician?” he drawls, stepping towards you.

“why would i lie? plus we — we aren’t even together—”

“hey.” he interrupts and your eyes skip towards your sleeping baby in the cot and your breath hitches.

“rafe not here, c’mon she’s asleep i don’t want her to hear us like this.” you plead and he licks his lips, glancing round at the cot before nodding towards the door, lugging his big body into the hallway. you sigh, checking on your girl before following him out, crossing your arms. “rafe.”

“so i pay for this house, i bring you money every week, and you got the nerve to have other guys in here? around my little girl? around you?” he tilts his head, crowding your space, voice more hushed now. you hate how your body reacts to him, instantly heating a little. as toxic as it was, hearing him act territorial told you that he still cared immensely and wouldn’t suddenly get bored and leave you to your own devices. your lashes flutter a little as you exhale and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “you do it to make me jealous? huh? ‘cos i can’t — i can’t imagine that there’s anyone out there that’s lookin’ after you like i am— alright, who’s gonna pay those fuckin’ bills for you hm?” he takes a step closer and your eyes practically glaze over when your bodies brush one another. he takes the incentive to reach forward and put his hand up your silky night gown, cupping your cunt. of course, no panties. “whos gonna fuck that needy lil’ pussy if it’s not me? huh? nah really, tell me?” he tilts his head, talking all low right in your ear making you mewl.

“it really was the electricians jacket!” you squeak, gripping his shirt in your clenched fists. you were so pent up.

“you swear?” he licks his lips, eyes wide as they stare into your own.

“on my life, rafe.” you breathe desperately, and he knew you wouldn’t ever swear on your life if you didn’t mean it. it was just the kind of person you were. he takes his hands off you, holding them up as he licks his lips, eyeing you over.

“alright… a’ight i’m sorry. just had a long day.” he apologises, seeming like he’s taking a moment to catch his breath. you continue to stare, thighs subtly shifting together. “you got that baby monitor?” he blinks.

you nod frantically, knowing it was turned on most times. rafe rubs at his jawline, looking around before nodding in the direction of the living room. “right. okay… go lay down on that couch. s’clear you need something from me.” he commands with no room for argument before sauntering off ahead, adjusting himself in his pants.

[brattyspence]

safe and sound | s.reid

summary: in which post-prison!spencer finds himself so comforted by your presence that he can’t help but fall asleep whenever he’s around you. (anyone else remember that tiktok trend abt how frequently falling asleep around certain people is a sign of someone feeling safe? no? just me?)

tags: fluffy! post-prison!spence (but its not rlly mentioned in detail)(just reminding u all that man is Traumatized capital T), gun mentioned, sleeping… that’s it i think

a/n: hey idk how to follow up my last fic so here is this??? its a drabble!

word count: 651

(a very short) masterlist here

You had been sitting on your couch, laptop open on your lap as you typed away the last bit of paperwork you needed to complete for the night. The TV was playing softly, some random documentary channel you’d put on hours ago. The room was dim, only the soft lighting from the table side lamp illuminating the space.

Even though your relationship was relatively new, you were at a point where simply existing in each other's presence was an acceptable reason to hang out. You didn't need to be doing something, you were just content to exist in each others orbit. 

In recent weeks, you’d observed a new phenomenon; nearly every time he came to your apartment, he would fall asleep within an hour. 

Not that particularly you minded. Sometimes you found yourself tangled somewhere in his arms, the book you had been reading slipping from your fingertips as you also fell asleep. Other times you were so busy with work and laundry and whatever else you were up to to notice that he had been sleeping at all. 

You shut your laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. It was late now, nearly 11pm. 

“Spence…” you reached over to ruffle his hair softly, hoping to stir him. “It's past 11.”

He made a slight whine of protest before fluttering his eyes open. You watched him squint at the digital clock on your TV stand. “Ugh. I'm sorry. I’m going.”

“I wasn't kicking you out,” you reply. “I just thought maybe you didn't want to spend the night on my couch.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, that's probably not very smart,” he replied, a slight smile creeping across his lips. “I don't know why your apartment makes me so tired.”

He did know, in fact. It was no secret that the past year hadn't been kind to him. Prison had left him changed, and touched every part of his life irreversibly, including his own home. It was stupid, he knew. He was a fully grown man, a trained agent who owned a gun and knew how to use it, and he still could never feel as safe in his own apartment as he was in yours. You were the only person in his life who didn’t see him during that point in his life. You hadn't watched him change and expected anything from him. Being in your presence was the only time there was no weight to bear.

“It's more than fine with me,” you said. You shifted across the cushions enough to tuck your head against his shoulder. “You can sleep on my couch whenever you want. But you should probably consider the bed instead, if you don't want back pain for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled softly, sliding an arm around your side to settle you against him. “I’ll consider it.”

The air grew still again. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingertips tracing lines up and down your side. Eventually you felt him place his cheek against your head. You were certain you’d also succumb to the temptation of sleep that had been creeping up on you.

“You should just stay the night,” you mumbled. 

“We both have work tomorrow, honey.”

You huffed. “But we’re so comfy right here. Please?”

“Maybe I can just get up extra early tomorrow to have time to go home…” he said. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

“Mhm. Do that.” You nodded. “And next time just pack a bag. Or I'll make space for you in my closet. Whatever will get you to stay.”

You felt him laugh quietly before he removed his arm from its position around you. He stood up before you could protest further, offering his hand to you. 

“Come on. Let's go to bed like adults.”

You groaned, accepting his hand anyway.

[14dayswithyou]

As a humble admirer of Everything Yandere and of the inner workings of the sick and twisted minds of loving, lovesick maniacs and of their warped and muddled perceptions of love and intimacy, I pose you the question: What type, kind, flavor, species of Yandere is Ren/Redacted? I've gone through the asks on the blog answering what lovesick and yearning behaviors he goes through, why he does them, what they mean to him — but can we go deeper? What disturbing things does Ren do, be it for his own twisted satisfaction and perception of "love", be it to those he sees as threats to his Angel? What are his limits, where does he draw the line, how far is he willing to go to get what he wants, and who is he willing to hurt and how? Where does he draw the line when it comes to Angel? I know he would never physically hurt them, but what kind of mental warfare would he inflict on them to get them where he wants? Are we talking isolation, manipulation, gaslighting, brainwashing? And if so, how does that happen?

I'd be very very happy if you'd be okay with going into this analysis — and would it be possible to answer the Yandere Alphabet for Ren? Thank you for blessing me with this mess of a boy and sowwy for the ramble ♡ ♡ Tell Ren to clean up the bloodstains he left earlier ♡

⌞♥⌝ Because I get this question a lot, I personally feel like I've answered it to the fullest possible extent that I can gdkfgjdj ^^; So if you haven't already seen them, I reccomend going through these asks: one, two, three, four, and five!

As for your other questions:

I've highlighted them in pink to make it easier to reference/link it back to the questions above

The "disturbing" things Ren would do to his victims have been answered more or less in a few of the asks mentioned above.

Ren honestly doesn't have any major limits aside from physically harming or forcing himself onto Angel in any way. He doesn't find any pleasure in doing so, nor would he ever want to turn out like his father — much less subject the only person he genuinely cares about to the same things he had to endure as a child.

Ren also doesn't really draw the line anywhere — again, aside from upsetting Angel in any way — so anything is fair game when it comes to everyone else. But speaking as his creator for a moment, I will say that Ren is not the type to harm babies, animals, abandon his own/Angel's children, force himself onto anyone, or coerce anyone into sexual activities in order to get what he wants. That's icky af and I'm not rocking with it /gen /lh

On a slightly lighter topic, Ren is willing to go as far as necessary if it means having Angel rely on him and him only... So long as it keeps them happy at the same time. As much as he'd love to "remove" Angel's friends and family permanently, he won't entertain that thought if it'll make them upset. At most, he'd likely try non-lethal ways to get rid of them in hopes of keeping Angel happy (and oblivious).

One of Ren's major characteristics is that he's willing to change himself to suit Angel's needs, no matter how drastic it may be. If they find any sort of reliability or comfort in him by doing so, then he'll latch onto that notion and feed into it. By becoming someone Angel can trust and confide in, Ren would (potentially) be able to manipulate them and sway their thoughts... Almost like a metaphorical devil on their shoulder, in a sense lmao

I've said this a few times on this blog before, but Ren is the CEO of gaslighting and manipulation. He's down to try a bit of isolation if it's somehow possible to keep Angel happy while doing so, though I don't think Ren would be into mindwashing since he idolises, honours, and blindly trusts Angel's original thoughts more than his own. He wants them to genuinely develop feelings for him, not because he forced them to.

I've actually been asked to do the Yandere Alphabet by a few other people recently, so I'll get around to doing it sometime!! ^^

[eloquentlytired]

18+mdni

— three is the charm

pairing: logan x fem curvy reader x wade

tags: threesome — established relationship — dominant wade — needy reader & lo — rough sex — cock ring — pet names — wade being silly — not mentioned but reader is on the pill — sweet ending — not exhaustive tags here we good

summary: wade needs to unwind, you and logan help him.

author’s note: I have finally finished this tiny surprise. enjoy !! ☺️🩷🌸

ৎৎৎ

you lie on the bed as wade kisses you while logan abuses the skin of your neck, littering it with bites. it hurts but it's a good ache and they're both always careful with you. “fuck.” you whine against wade’s lips and you know that he'd give you a funny response if he wasn't so incredibly horny — he was the one that had initiated this in the first place.

there's hardness pressing against both of your thighs and you think about how lucky you are to be like this; to have two people that want you. that love you. logan moves his hand to slide down your pajama shorts and wade follows right after to remove your panties, exposing your wetness. wade is also the first to slip between your legs and go down on you, firstly kissing the area around your pussy until you're whimpering and throbbing for him. logan is just done undoing the first few buttons of your pajama shirt, remembering you like this one, and you'd praise him if you were coherent. he wraps his lips around your nipple while occupying the other with his hand, twisting it between his fingers. you moan and your legs shake over wade’s shoulders as the wet sensations at your breasts and cunt overwhelm you with the best type of pleasure. wade grips your hips high and your heart flutters at the way his bare hands squeeze them so tightly, proving how much he loves the curves of you. he grunts between your legs, sliding his tongue up and down, from your entrance to your clit, before tracing your lips teasingly. you sob with pleasure and logan sucks around your nipple harder to intensify the arousal you feel. one of your hands disappear into logan’s hair while the other finds wade’s hand on your hip and squeezes it. wade squeezes back.

“fuck—” it is logan who is cursing moments later when he's laying on his back on the bed as you straddle him so that your chests are pressing together and melting. wade hovers behind you and the head of his cock pokes your anal hole, making you shudder. wade grips logan’s cock to give it a few rough strokes and watches how his boyfriend’s hips twitch with each movement. he presses logan’s tip against the entrance of your weeping cunt and you moan, swaying your hips back against their cocks. “please.” you whisper and they're moving in unison like they always do, as if they're mentally communicating, and slide their cocks inside you inch by inch.

logan waits for wade to go a few inches first before he's pushing his fat tip past the tightness of your sweet pussy. this is something they always do as well — allowing the other to go first depending who's more desperate or who needs it more at the moment. part of them does it to not hurt you too much which is sweet, but the other part contains a much deeper meaning of it. probably something to do with the way wade slides his cock inside you first while staring at logan from behind your shoulder. they exchange rough glances, literally eye-fucking each other, because wade always provokes logan. he becomes competitive on purpose but there's no unhealthy intent behind it and they always know. wade means to say something like I reached the ending line first but logan grounds his hips, lining his dick with your pussy and thrusts forward sharply. it makes wade feral to see that kind of expression in his face — logan silently telling him that even if he comes second he'll still pretty much destroy the both of you.

but today is wade’s day and when wade leans down for a moment, tugging logan’s head closer by his hair, logan allows him. only you and wade can do that. “oh.” you lift your head slightly from logan’s hairy chest and you watch them as they kiss, wade’s tongue battling for dominance, and his endurance allows him to claim it against logan who's struggling to keep up. logan growls as wade takes a sweet moment to bite onto his bottom lip and release it with a loud sound. you instinctively clench at the sight, walls tightening around their cocks which twitch in response. especially logan’s as wade bites onto his bottom lip again but this time harder until he draws blood. it's filthy and arousing but the three of you were never normal to begin with.

“wade..lo!” you scream as they fill you up at the same time, stuffing their cocks into your deepest parts. you're full — extremely — and your body shakes uncontrollably because of the sheer force of their hips. wade grunts as he fucks you from behind, driving his hips straight into yours while his hand squeezes your pretty hip. you don't know where his other hand is until wade is using it to wrap it around your throat and pull you up. you feel logan’s cock shake, tremble even, and it couldn't be? right? but logan surprises you by spilling his load into your pussy and he surprises wade too.

logan is the only one who isn't surprised because the sight before him has turned him into literal shambles. your back presses against wade’s chest as you take both of their cocks so well and — in logan’s defense — wade is choking you too as your breasts bounce with each collision of their hips. logan can't take it. “you old dog.” wade mocks as he nibbles the back of your shoulder and logan let's out an animalistic growl as if annoyed with the comment. wade just provokes him more. “oh, peanut, maybe we should train you to handle the truth a little better.” and before you know it wade is holding you from your elbows as your entire front moves over logan. wade fucks you fast, hard. his balls slap against your skin and the motion burns you eventually because of the roughness but you like it. logan squirms beneath your bodies mumbling and pleading about how it's too much, too sensitive. “shut up and take it.” wade says probably to both of you and you moan in unison. your pussy clenches, logan shivers.

at some point wade is using a single arm to fist your hair and that's all the support you have to not crash on top of logan. logan watches your breasts bounce and brush over his face as wade takes you, molds you into an obedient little thing. it doesn't take long for him to get hard again and start rutting into you but wade notices. and he doesn't allow it. “what the—” logan hisses as something interrupts his high and although he can't see it, he knows wade has wore that damn cock ring around him just for punishment. “now don't be selfish. you already had your fun,didn't you?” wade mocks and grounds his hips into you so deep that it makes your eyes roll back with logan simply watching. logan growls in protest like he always does but wade doesn't care. wade pulls out completely before thrusting his entire cock back into your hole and your hips tremble as you hear the noises; when wade fucks you. when his hips collide with yours. when his balls slap against your skin. when his cock completely disappears into your tightness.

“work,puppy. you might get what you want in the end.” wade tells logan with mischief and logan grips both of your asscheeks roughly as he begins fucking into you properly. finally. it's brutal and fast and logan’s public hair rubs against your clit. you're reaching your peak then, squeezing around their cocks while coming all over logan’s dick. logan grunts and whimpers beneath your body as his cock twitches but nothing comes out — the cock ring doesn't let him. wade simply grins with satisfaction and before you know it he's pulling out of you, stroking himself to orgasm. you and logan moan as wade spurts all over you, on your ass and on logan’s thighs. he wants his claim to be apparent.

wade releases your hair and you fall on logan with a whine, your scalp slightly hurting but it's fine because this is worth it. there's some shuffling behind as wade unclasps the cock ring from around logan’s shaft. he's hard and leaking and wade uses a hand to guide logan’s cock back into your sensitive pussy. “wade—” , “I know,angel,I know.” he shushes your protests as logan’s hard shaft stretches you out again. it takes you a while to realize that logan is shaking beneath you as wade fondles with his balls, squeezing and rubbing them. logan’s eyes are shut and his hips twitch. all it takes is a few more toying around with his balls from wade to make him come again and logan is filling you up again. you shudder as he finishes emptying his load inside you and you slide tiredly by his side, logan is as tired as you so he doesn't stop your fall.

it's midnight when all three of you are watching tv in one of the couches. wade is in the middle while you and logan are at either side of him. wade’s head is leaning on logan’s shoulder while his hand is nestled between your hands. you hold him gently as logan silently watches the cartoons channel that wade has picked out. “thank you for today.” wade mutters tiredly, because it's his thing to be sentimental a little before bed, and you and logan can't help but smile a little. “I can feel you smiling.” wade states proudly, eyes still targeted at the television. “go fuck yourself,bub.” logan tells him humourously and you shake your head at their childish bickering. “talking about fucking,lo, did your balls get bigger—”

“wade!” you and logan protest in unison. your boyfriend laughs.

[bumblesimagines]

His Love to Keep

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Prince (Y/N) Targaryen and his cousin-wife, Princess Rhaenyra, have never truly seen eye to eye after she replaced his father as heir and removed him from line of succession. They both find lovers to keep their beds warm but with age and time comes the desire to redo things.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of marital SA, affairs/cheating on all sides rlly, moon tea usage, mentions of religious guilt?, implied rhaenicent, love triangle trope, canon divergent/AU, sexual/suggestive content, Targcest (Cousins), Rhaenyra is described with her book accurate appearance/body type

About fucking time I did one of these. fuck team black and team green I'm team milf 💪

~~~

"Must you truly go?"

"It is my duty, Alicent."

"Those boys are bastards," Alicent spoke softly, the cup in hand warming her palms as the subtle smell of tansy and mint drifted from the steam brushing along her skin. She watched ripples form in the tea with the slightest of movements, unable to swallow down the nerves beginning to bubble up underneath her skin. "You are not bound to them. They are not your sons."

"I scarcely see them and they still burst with excitement when I visit." (Y/N) strode forward to close the distance between them, his fingers reaching out to brush aside a curled strand of her auburn hair. Alicent lifted her head toward him, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips when his palm pressed against her cheek and she leaned into it. "They may not be my sons by blood but they are by marriage. They must at least feel cared for, even if once every few moons."

Alicent pursed her lips, her big brown eyes peering up at him. "Would you travel to Dragonstone more often if they were yours?" She asked tentatively, gingerly setting the moon tea on the table and rising from her chair. He watched her, his arm encircling her waist when she grew closer, the soft fabric of her thin nightgown rubbing along his arm. "Or would you return to me as you so often do?"

(Y/N) chuckled breathily, his (E/C) eyes crinkling with amusement and his free hand rising to cup her cheek once more. He leaned in and kissed her gently, their eyes fluttering shut as they exchanged breaths. Alicent's arms slipped around his shoulders and pressed her body close to his, eager to soak up whatever she could before they'd be forced apart again by duty. The back of her hips met the side of the table and she leaned back against it, her leg lifting off the ground as her heel dug its way up his calf and thigh until she hooked her leg around his waist. 

"Do not go." She asked pleadingly when they pulled apart for air, her hold on his shoulders tightening briefly when he lifted her up and set her at the edge of the table. Her fingers tugged at the laces in the front of her dress and the sleeves went slack, slipping off her shoulders and threatening to go past her elbows. "You can correspond through ravens." She told him, the pout that'd formed on her lips being kissed away.

His hand slipped beneath her nightgown, forcing it upwards until it rested around her hips. He squeezed the flesh of her thigh where fading marks resided, his lips ghosting over her throat and collarbone. "I have visited Dragonstone plenty of times, Alicent. You have never been against it before." He reminded her, his lips pressing against the valley between her chest as the dress slipped further down until it fully pooled around her hips. 

Alicent's head tilted backward, her soft curls tumbling past her shoulders and grazing along the table. She braced her elbows against the smooth wood, unable to find any excuse apart from worry and a hint of jealousy but her inexplicable mind hardly allowed her to comprehend who exactly she was jealous of if tides shifted between the couple; Rhaenyra or her lover. Ser Harwin had passed some years prior and she'd heard little of Rhaenyra growing close to anyone else since then. It both filled her with dread and intrigue. 

"I have been against you allowing yourself to be seen playing father to those boys. She makes a mockery of you." Alicent said breathily, her legs parting and revealing herself as bare as the previous night when she'd gone to him in hopes of convincing him to remain in Dragonstone. It'd been a fruitless yet enjoyable attempt. 

"She makes a mockery of herself and her father." (Y/N) rebutted swiftly, his hands briefly leaving her thighs to unbutton his loose pants. 

A shuddering breath escaped Alicent when she felt him push inside, the act so familiar yet it still felt unknown to her. Viserys had never cared for her comfort or pleasure during acts of 'passion', only chasing his own pleasure whilst her mind drifted elsewhere. But in the arms of a lover who truly desired her, everything felt different. Every touch felt electrifying, every kiss left butterflies behind, and every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure up her spin. She remained mindful of the early hour in the morrow; many courtiers and servants had the habit of rising with the sun and traveling through the halls of the castle. 

Her arm curled around his neck when he buried his face into the nape of hers, her other hand digging into the fabric of his shoulder and crinkling it as her nails pressed through to his skin. Quiet and soft pants, sighs, and moans escaped her parted lips, her teeth digging into her lip whenever her voice edged toward a louder volume that would alert those passing by the doors to her bedchambers. She'd already instructed her trusted handmaiden to send away those who wished an audience but she'd hardly be a match for anyone alerted by the noise. 

Alicent's hand slapped down on the table, curling her fingers around the edge to stabilize herself and the creaking furniture. Part of her felt guilty for engaging in the sinful act of laying with another while bound by the vows of marriage; guilty for betraying the lingering love she held for Rhaenyra and the trust the kingdom had put upon her shoulders when she wed Viserys. She'd pray in the sept later in the day, asking to be absolved of her sins but the prince was too addicting to give up for Gods she found herself straying further and further away from. 

Her back arched with her abrupt high and he claimed her lips before she could cry out, muffling the noise and the ones that followed when he continued. She clung onto him, and perhaps clung to the idea he'd be tempted to remain at her side as well, the air escaping her lungs and legs caging around him in a tight hold. Her mind grew clouded from the pleasure and near overstimulation, filling her head with thoughts of carrying his child and finally giving him a proper heir to Runestone, but she would not sully him with another bastard as Rhaenyra had. Perhaps in another time, her children would've been his and they would've been happier far from the suffocating walls of the Keep.

She thought of that life often, and it plagued her when she watched his dragon disappear over the vast sea while the horrid taste of the moon tea danced on her tongue.

Despite having her darling sons to keep her company and the occasional visits from her uncle and young cousins.. nothing ever changed the heart-aching loneliness that'd clawed its way into Rhaenyra's chest following the Year of the Red Spring. She'd lost the three people closest to her, the few who knew her secrets and worries. It pained her to know she'd never feel Harwin's warm embrace or hear Laena's mischievous laughter or watch the way Laenor's eyes sparkled when he spoke of his lover. She had few friends in the Keep and even fewer on the isolated island of Dragonstone. 

Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around herself, the sleeves of her dress providing little warmth against the natural chill of Dragonstone from the sea breeze. She strode down the halls in contemplation, although she likely appeared more like a lost ghost forever forced to wander. The letter that'd arrived the previous day had been short and with little details but it'd been from her husband informing her of his arrival to visit 'the boys'. 

Her lips quirked and she sighed through her nose. 'The boys', always 'the boys' or 'your sons but never 'our sons' despite the fact he was the only father they'd ever known. Harwin had been forced to play the part of a friendly uncle figure, forced to watch his children scurry to the feet of a man who treated them with polite affection over genuine love. Rhaenyra hardly found blame within herself. He'd left her alone in the Keep after their wedding, and it'd only been through a letter begging him to return that he'd begrudgingly flown back to see her. The irritation on his face when she explained her newfound predicament- the possibility of being pregnant- had nearly enraged her but he agreed to pretend as if the boys had inherited their brown hair and softer features from his late mother. 

Her attention tugged away from her thoughts and onto the long shadow along the floor peeking out from the balcony, her step quickening slightly to have a peek at the person standing there. She smiled immediately upon seeing Luke with his arms braced against the stone railing and his head tilted toward the clouds in the direction of King's Landing, a bright sparkle in his vibrant eyes. She approached him, settling her hands over his shoulders as she pecked the back of his head. 

"Will you ask him, Mother?" Luke questioned, pressing himself further against the railing as he combed the clouds for any sign of (Y/N) or his dragon. 

"If you can travel with him to Runestone?" Rhaenyra chuckled at the barely contained excitement in his voice despite the ache and tug at her heartstrings. The mere thought of parting with her sweet boy filled her with longing, and they'd yet to even ask (Y/N) if it'd be alright. "I will ask him, Luke. I am certain he'll be more than pleased to show you Runestone and its many ports. You must pay close attention. You will rule it someday."

Luke grimaced at that. "Wouldn't that mean Father has died?" His head turned to peer up at her with those big striking eyes of his; eyes she'd never be able to deny, now more than ever when they reminded her of the shade of Harwin's. 

"Oh, my darling," Rhaenyra cooed, running her fingers through his soft curls. "Ruling does not always entail someone has died. Does Princess Rhaenys not rule Driftmark as her husband's regent while he recovers from his injury? If your... father were to fall ill or sustain an injury that confines him to his bed and you are of age, you would rule in his steed with the help of your great-uncle. You would rule if I were to fall ill and your father had to rule as regent in King's Landing." 

Her words seemed to ease Luke, his hair flopping lightly against his forehead when he nodded and his lips tugging into that smile of his that could brighten the dullest of days. They both turned toward the skies when a deepened screech echoed through the quiet afternoon air and they watched a large figure descend from the clouds and skim the water with its wings. Suvion released another cry when he drew closer, one that seemingly roused his mother and son. In the distance, Rhaenyra faintly made out Silverwing and Arrax's cries in response.

"Father!" Luke leaped away and hurried into the hallway, his feet slapping against the stone floor as he raced toward the entrance leading into Dragonmont. 

Taking a deep inhale, Rhaenyra released it in a sigh and followed after her son, hands clutching the deep red of her skirts and lifting the ends to quicken her pace. She couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's excitement despite the way her heart twisted at the knowledge he'd never have a chance to be excited over his real father. She caught Luke taking Joffery's small hand in his and tugging him further into the entrance of the cave system where (Y/N) would dismount, and found Jace lingering with twisted lips and sullen eyes.

"Jace," She called softly, releasing her skirts to place her hand on his arm. "Are you not excited to greet your father?"

"Is he excited to see us?" Jace asked glumly and Rhaenyra winced. "He has resided in King's Landing for days and has not spared us a single visit in moons. Must he make it any more obvious that we are of little importance to him?" 

Before Rhaenyra could respond, Jace stalked inside, ever the polite one even in his disappointment and anger. She sighed once more and followed him inside, squinting through the light pouring into the cave from the opening on the side and blinking until her eyes adjusted. (Y/N) climbed off Suvion and cooed quietly to his dragon as he slipped his gloves off, handing them to the nearby servant. Suvion chirped softly and dipped down, disappearing into one of the many tunnels within Dragonmont. 

Luke stopped a few feet away from him and dipped his head in respect before releasing Joffery's hand and lunging himself forward. He swung his arms around (Y/N)'s waist and pressed his cheek into his chest, a gleeful smile on his face. Little Joffery clumsily bowed as well and shuffled forward to cling onto (Y/N)'s leg. (Y/N) chuckled at their affection and patted Luke's head, murmuring some words Rhaenyra couldn't hear and leaning down to take Joffery into his arms. 

"Husband," Rhaenyra greeted when he approached, the word still foreign on her tongue despite the many years since their wedding. She hoped to remedy that for the sake of her sons and before loneliness could consume her whole. 

"Rhaenyra," (Y/N) nodded, his brows twitching at the use of his martial title but his face smoothed over into a polite smile when he turned to Jace and offered him Joffery. Rhaenyra felt thankful, in a way, that the years he'd spent attached to her father's hip had eased him into a calmer man. She feared what would have become of him if he'd only been raised by Daemon. 

Gingerly taking his little brother, Jace bowed his head, his lips pulled into a thin line. "My Prince." He greeted and Rhaenyra hoped her sharp inhale had gone unnoticed by her younger sons. "I hope your flight was well." 

"It was, though I am in need of a bath and some rest." (Y/N) told them, his hand brushing over Luke's head one last time before he slipped past them and began heading toward the castle. "I'll see you at supper." He called over his shoulder. 

Rhaenyra bit her inner cheek and spared her children a glance, her legs turning and catching up with her husband. She caught his arm and slipped hers around it, glancing over her shoulder at her boys. "Your belongings in the Sea Dragon Tower have been moved to my bedchambers." She told him quietly.

"And why so?"

"Because you are my husband." Rhaenyra scoffed. "Is that not reason enough? Must I get on my knees and beg for my husband to sleep in the same room as me?"

"You only wish to sleep in the same room as me when you are pregnant with another man's child, Rhaenyra. You ought to learn to ask for moon tea when you sleep with a lover. You've already doomed your two eldest." (Y/N) tugged his arm free from her hold, his lip curled slightly in irritation. "What is it now?"

"It is as I said. It is truly so absurd to desire time with the man I married or do you detest the idea so much you'd rather humiliate me by refusing?" Rhaenyra questioned, her voice rising in volume and eyes fiery as they both stalked toward her bedchambers. Servants clumsily bowed and stepped out of the way from them, their eyes wide with exchanged glances. "When will you grace us with an inch of maturity, I wonder, or will you forever act as a scorned child? It was your father whose ambition and loose tongue stripped him of his title as heir!" 

"It is amusing to hear you speak of maturity, Rhaenyra; it is like a jester speaking of dignity." (Y/N) spat back.

The doors to her apartments were opened hastily by the guard and swiftly shut behind them. (Y/N)'s strides were broken when he took a moment to observe his surroundings, only moving once he noticed the pitcher full of wine and filled a cup to the brim. Rhaenyra watched him drink from it, her chest heaving from her annoyance. She took a deep breath in hopes of calming herself and felt the emotion ease down whilst he rid himself of his riding clothes. 

"We recently learned of your long stay in King's Landing. They will question you as to why you have not come sooner... and I would like to know the answer, too. I know my father's health has been steadily worsening through the years but I doubt you are of any help to the maesters dedicated to ensuring he heals." Rhaenyra approached him from behind, her hands resting upon his shoulders and helping slip the undershirt off his body. She let it drop onto the pile of clothing on the floor and inched closer, the palms of her hands running along his warm skin. She felt a subtle small bump, her brows furrowing as she traced it and quickly recognized it as fading scratch marks. She stilled. "Unless there are other reasons for your visits..." 

He only exhaled through his nose and remained silent. Rhaenyra staggered backward at his lack of response, her widening eyes watching him shed the last of his clothing and step into the warm water within the tub. Her mind flickered through the various courtiers she recalled resided in the Keep prior to her departure to Dragonstone.

It was hypocritical, she knew, to grow so uneasy at the thought of him with another. He'd been indifferent to the years Harwin spent at her side and while she'd always wondered if he'd taken a lover of his own, she always believed it'd be someone from one of the lesser houses in the Vale over someone just a ride away. There were many beautiful ladies residing in the Keep but as always, Rhaenyra's mind lingered on her old friend. 

"I suspected the reason you never cared for Harwin was because you had your own lover waiting in Runestone... yet now I am led to believe that lover calls King's Landing home. What would Queen Alicent say, I wonder, if she grew to learn of your doings beneath her nose and watchful eyes? She's always been so righteous... I am certain even with the animosity between us, she'd ask of you to return to your wife." Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, watching him as he cleaned himself. "Who is it? You knew of mine, I wish to know of yours."

"I find it hard to understand you, Rhaenyra." He muttered. "You always pined for freedom and adventure yet accepted the title of heir; you defended your inheritance yet fled the Keep because of mere court gossip; you never longed for children yet allowed the seed of Breakbones to sprout life three times; you never desired this marriage yet now wish to keep me close after years. Who I lay with is of little interest to you when any other man would have found grounds for a divorce all those years ago."

"You never gave us a chance or have you forgotten you climbed atop Suvion the morrow after our wedding and abandoned me to be in Runestone?" A hot flash of anger jolted through her body, her fingers curling into fits. She often thought of that morning, of rising after a night of angry passion only to discover her new husband had left without a word. It'd been the only time they'd properly been with one another and she'd been left wondering if she'd disappointed him enough for him to believe the marriage was merely an inconvenience. 

"Would you have rather I missed the funeral of my mother?" (Y/N) shot her a glare over his shoulder and tossed aside the sponge, satisfied with his bath and rising to dry himself.

Rhaenyra's swift anger stilled, unable to stop her eyes from wandering. It'd been long since she'd last seen him fully undressed, and even then the memories of their only time together were a whirlwind. He'd always been a fine-looking prince, especially in his youth when he still carried the air of youthful arrogance befitting of a prince. He'd certainly grown into a handsome man, one with mixtures of Targaryen and Royce features that melted together perfectly. 

Rhaenyra forced herself to swallow the spiteful words ready on her tongue and she turned, retrieving a maroon-colored robe with golden designs and approaching him. He eyed her but nonetheless allowed her to help him dress. "I would have rather you spoken to me. I may have been.. reckless and rebellious in my youth but I would not have refused to accompany you. I could have been convinced into waiting for your return but you made your opinion clear. Did you truly never long for a wife all those lonely years in Runestone? Did you never long for.. what could have been?"

"We were children, Rhaenyra. I was a child forced into an abrupt marriage and then forced to deal with the passing of my mother while my family spoke of their suspicion of my father killing her. I had little time to think of a wife who disliked me when I had to learn to rule Runestone and sedate the thirst for revenge in my family. Perhaps these past few years I've thought of having true children that are mine but we've made our beds, Rhaenyra. What's done is done."

"You speak as if I am not still your wife." Rhaenyra released a huff of amusement, her hand smoothing over the front of the robe and feeling the soft fabric. Her fingers dipped beneath the robes and roamed until her thumb brushed over the trail of hair leading further down. He made a noise in the back of his throat but when he did nothing to push her away, Rhaenyra found victory. "I am still of childbearing age, (Y/N). I too have longed for a babe in recent times. I've desired a girl for much time now that Jace and Luke will soon be man-grown and beginning their own families." 

(Y/N)'s eyes jumped away from her, his brows slightly dipping together and jaw subtly ticking. She wondered if he thought of his lover and how she would react to the news, and Rhaenyra felt a hint of satisfaction despite the curiosity swirling around her chest. She wanted a name and a face to put to the woman who'd likely cloud her mind for the rest of her life. It'd always been expected of ladies to tolerate the mistresses of their husbands but Rhaenyra could hardly see herself allowing such a thing

"I am certain this is the very reason my lover did not wish for me to come here." (Y/N) sighed and Rhaenyra blinked at him, unable to comprehend why then he'd flown to Dragonstone if the person he did care about asked of him otherwise. Her heart fluttered at the possibilities. 

She pressed her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer, bringing her lips over his and sighing in relief as their lips moved together. "She will have to understand and bring herself to forgive," Rhaenyra said, already breathless and eager. It'd been so, so long since she'd last felt the touch of another. 

He grunted into her mouth when her fingers curled around him and pumped him slowly, delighting in the feeling of him fully hardening against her hand. She'd always been a lustful creature, she supposed, always hungering for the feeling of pleasure and power over someone else in such intimate acts.

(Y/N) had always been someone out of reach, both literally and figuratively, so having him shuddering against her and grazing his tongue against hers only fueled her desire. Rhaenyra savored each grunt, hiss, and needy kiss as she stroked him, running her fingers along the slit and coating her skin. 

Her dress loosened when he undid the laces at the back of her gown with expertise. She relished the quiet, muffled huff that left him when she retracted her hand to peel the sleeves off her arms and allow the dress to slump down at their feet with her undergarments quickly following. He leaned back to observe her, his eyes taking in the newfound curves of her body she'd obtained from age and multiple pregnancies. Much of the weight from bearing children had remained, remolding her body into something new and far from the girl he'd consummated his marriage with.

Rhaenyra grinned at the flicker of hunger in his eyes before the grin vanished with a gasp as he latched onto her neck and pulled her closer. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around him, quiet sighs and gasps leaving her with each nip and suckle at her throat. They stumbled back toward the bed and Rhaenyra pushed at his shoulders until he sat at the edge, parting briefly with each other before she settled on his lap. 

Cradling his face in her hands, she pressed another kiss to his lips. "Today and every day til I am with child, you are mine and mine alone."

[roosterforme]

The Wingman | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I need your help," Jake said, forcefully removing the cup of peanuts from Bob's hand. "Right now. Come on."

"With what?" Bob asked quietly as Jake hauled him to his feet and started pushing him away from the pool table and toward the bar. Bob wiped peanut shells from his uniform as he went, perplexed about what was going on.

"See those two girls?" Jake asked, pointing to the end of the bar. "Kinda cute, right?"

Bob's jaw dropped open. Kinda cute didn't quite cover it. Gorgeous was more like it. He swallowed the last peanut he was chewing on and murmured, "Yeah. Very cute."

"Great. The one on the right has a perfect looking rack, and she seems kind of mean. She's for me. You can have the one on the left. She's sweet. Not my type," Jake said as they drew closer.

Bob was practically stumbling along now. "But why do you need me?"

"You're going to be my wingman."

"But.... we aren't flying?" Bob asked, so perplexed.

Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Focus, Floyd. It means you can hang out with the friend for a bit so I can get laid. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bob muttered, and then he was being thrust up right next to where you were standing. He had to catch the wall so he didn't slam into you, and then you looked up at him slowly as you released your straw from your lips and smiled.

"Hi." Your voice was breathy and soft, the perfect juxtaposition to the noisy bar. And you looked even more beautiful up close, something Bob would have thought impossible. "Are you Jake's friend?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, swallowing hard as your bright smile took his breath away. "I'm Bob," he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

And then you gave him your name, and something told him he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. "It's nice to meet you, Bobby."

He nodded, heart thudding. "Nice to meet you, too." 

You called him Bobby, and he liked the way it sounded on your lips. But nothing compared to what you said next. 

"I noticed you before," you said, looking down at your drink, suddenly shy. "Last weekend when we were here. And the weekend before that. I can't believe you're talking to me."

You had noticed him before? Bob couldn't formulate real words. You were surprised he was talking to you? But you were so far out of his league, it was ridiculous! He just watched your straw brushing against your lips as your gaze slowly moved up his chest and neck until your eyes met his again. You were just so pretty.

You cleared your throat and pressed your lips together. "Of course, if you don't feel like talking to me, you don't have to." And you quickly turned to face the bar, taking a few steps away from him. That's when Bob realized he'd been staring at you instead of talking to you at all. 

"No, no, I do want to talk to you," he said, wondering if it was okay to touch you and decided to go for it as he reached out to let his fingers brush your arm. He said your name and you turned to look at him again, but you didn't come any closer. "Sorry, I-I just got distracted by how pretty you are."

You laughed, and that smile was back now. "You know, that usually sounds like a line when a guy says it, but for some reason I believe you, Bobby. I even told my friend Alli that you looked handsome and sweet at the same time." You gestured toward your friend who had her lips glued to Jake's, but Bob barely glanced in their direction.

"Nobody really calls me Bobby, but I like it when you do."

When you closed the distance between your bodies and ran your fingers along his collection of insignia pins, Bob let his left hand rest lightly on your waist, and you didn't stop him. He couldn't believe you were letting him touch you. 

"What do you do in the navy?" you asked, meeting his eyes before examining his pins a little closer. 

"I'm an aviator," he replied. 

"You fly a jet?" you asked, eyes wide now. And this was what Bob hated more than anything; having to explain to someone that he was just a backseater. 

"No, I'm a weapons systems officer, actually."

"Oh! So you're in charge of a pilot! Do you fly with Jake?"

Bob smiled at your simple and yet surprisingly accurate description of what a WSO did. "No, I fly with her," he replied, pointing across the bar where Phoenix was gaping at him with a pool cue in her hand. 

You turned to look before turning back to him and saying, "That's so fascinating, Bobby."

"What do you do?" he asked, wrapping his hand a little further around your back and nearly gasping as he felt the swell of your butt. He let go of you like he'd been burned, but you reached for his hand and placed it right where it had been. 

"I'm a kindergarten teacher."

Bob's mouth went dry. Phoenix told him all the time that he was destined to marry a sweet, pretty kindergarten teacher and have six kids and a golden retriever. 

"Do you like kids, Bobby?" you asked, your fingers back on his pins. 

"Yeah... six of them," he murmured. 

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Nothing," he told you. "Yes, I like kids. Sometimes I volunteer to read at the library when they need military personnel for story time. Hey, how do you feel about golden retrievers?

"Your lips parted slightly as you looked at him, and Bob could feel his cheeks flushing with color as you leaned up. The way your eyes fluttered closed should have been enough warning for him, but nobody had ever done this to him before in the middle of the Hard Deck. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of girls he had ever kissed at all, anywhere.

But the soft touch of your lips to his was enough to have his right hand wrapping around you as well. And then everything felt perfect as he touched you while you kissed him. 

The kiss didn't last long, but you kept your body pressed right up to his while you assured him that golden retrievers were your very favorite type of dog. Then you told Bob about your classroom and your school and the kids in your class. You told him how much you liked when they played movies in the park by your apartment. You told him that you always went with some of your friends to the food truck festivals. And you told him how much you liked his glasses. 

"You really like them?" Nobody liked his glasses. Women frequently asked him if he ever wore contacts. He supposed that would make him a bit better looking, but he hated poking at his eyes when he needed to use them for work.

"Like is an understatement," you assured him with a smile. "You're so cute. Can I kiss you again?"

Bob nodded helplessly, already kind of pathetically in need of your attention. This kiss was a little more forceful, and Bob could feel your tongue touching his.

And then Alli threw her drink on Jake, and you gasped, backing out of Bob's arms. "Maybe I should go check on her," you said as your friend stormed toward the exit. But you didn't move. 

"Well, Bob, your wingman duty is no longer needed," Jake drawled, wiping what appeared to be rum and coke from his face before he wandered away.

You groaned and tipped your head back before you met Bob's eyes. "Jake made you come over and talk to me, didn't he?"

You looked completely distraught, and Bob thought he might die if you left right now. He didn't even have your number, and he hadn't asked you out on a date yet. "Don't go," he begged, reaching for you as you set your empty glass on the bar. "Please. It took literally no persuading on Jake's part to get me to come over here. And you're so pretty, I would have been too scared to ever come over on my own."

You looked at him for a beat. "You seem sincere. Are you being sincere?"

"Of course," he swore, panicking inside. "I don't want you to leave. I'm hoping you'll give me your number and let me take you out tomorrow."

To Bob's relief, you pulled him over to the one empty bar stool and pushed him down to sit. Then you were on his lap, perched on his thigh, and he was handing you his phone. You saved your name and phone number and texted yourself so you could have his number too. "Where are you taking me tomorrow, Bobby?" you asked him.

"Anywhere you want," he promised. And you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing them along the back of his neck as you kissed him again. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you a little closer. Then he felt you reach for his other hand, guiding it to your bare knees where his fingers skimmed the hem of your dress. 

You were good at this. You knew what you were doing. But Bob wasn't good at romance, and he didn't have a lot of experience. But he knew he was already addicted to your kisses. And he should have understood what you meant as soon as you said it, but he really didn't.

"You could take me out for breakfast," you whispered as you kissed your way along his jaw and tasted his neck.

"Okay," he muttered. "I'd love to pick you up tomorrow morning. For breakfast."

He was just thankful you didn't laugh at him when you pulled back. Instead you were biting your lip and toying with his pins again as you said, "Or you could stay over. And then you wouldn't have to come pick me up. Because you'd already be there."

Bob knew he was hard in his khaki uniform pants, and the way your thigh was nudging him wasn't helping him process the fact that you just invited him to spend the night with you. He didn't know if he could do this. He'd never done this sort of thing before. 

You were looking at him expectantly and a little apprehensively. He kissed you softly. "I don't usually go home with girls from the bar. I actually don't even usually talk to girls when I'm here. Or...anywhere, really." His face was flushed, collar too tight. He was uncomfortable now as you appraised him with your wide eyes.

"How is that possible? You're so smooth." Now Bob was the one with big eyes as you added, "I've never taken a guy home from the bar before, but you make me feel comfortable. And I think you're sweet. And I'm pretty sure we're going to date."

Bob nodded, so sure of it. "Yeah, we're going to date. And get a golden retriever." 

Your smile right before you kissed the tip of his nose made him squeeze you tighter. "Then let's go," you whispered, wiggling out of his arms to stand up. Bob had to try to discreetly adjust himself as you dug into your purse, but he managed to get his wallet out in time to pay for your drink before you could. "Thanks, Bobby," you muttered, taking his hand in yours. 

Bob watched the identical looks of shock on Jake's and Nat's faces as you looked up at him and lured him toward the door. He was going back to your place. He was going to take you out for breakfast. He was so excited. And so nervous.

As he helped you climb in his pick-up truck, you leaned down and kissed him softly, and he just knew you would never make fun of him for anything. Bob closed the door and walked around the truck, checking his phone which had been vibrating nonstop.

Hangman: I told you she was sweet.

Nat Trace: OMG BOB, have a great night! Text me tomorrow! 

He climbed into the truck only to find that you had buckled yourself into the center of the bench seat right next to him. "Hi," you said with a laugh, and then you let your palm come to rest on his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

"Where do you live?" he asked softly, and you gave him directions while you touched him so gently that Bob felt some of his nervousness receding. He parked in front of your building, and you led him inside. 

The elevator ride was filled with sweet kisses as you draped your arms around his neck. Either you could tell that he was out of his element and were being extra nice about it, or this was how you always liked to do things. Either way, he really, really liked it. Even the swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as the elevator arrived at your floor wasn't too much for him now. When he nibbled gently on your lip, you moaned softly, and he pushed you back against the wall. 

"Let's go," you panted, pulling him toward your door. Bob kissed the side of your neck as you fiddled with your key, but once you had him inside, things started going a little too fast for him. 

You closed and locked the door, and then your fingers were on the zipper of his uniform pants, and your tongue was in his mouth. Bob let you slip your hand inside the waistband of his underwear, and then your hand was stroking him, and he was seeing stars behind his eyelids. It felt so good. He'd been touched like this before, but it had been months, and it had been with someone he was dating. 

He liked you a lot, and he didn't want you to stop. But suddenly, when your hand stroked back up his already throbbing cock, he pulled away from your kisses. "Can we go a little slower?" he asked between raspy breaths. 

You nodded with uncertainty at him and gently slid your hand out of his underwear. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Guys usually like that."

"I do!" he insisted. "It's....just...maybe we can kiss more first?"

"Okay," you agreed. "How about on the couch?"

"Sure," Bob whispered. You pulled him further into your living room, fingers linked with his. When he settled back onto the sofa, you sat on his thigh, just like you had done on the barstool. 

"Is this better?" you asked, your lips brushing against his while you ran your fingers through his hair. Your cheek was nudging his glasses, and honestly, he was just as aroused as he had been when your hand was stroking him. 

"Yeah," he managed, and your mouth and his met in the best kisses he had ever felt. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually you were straddling his hips, and his hands were wrapped around the backs of your bare thighs.

"That feels good, Bobby," you whined as he stroked his thumbs along your perfect, soft skin. Your lips found his neck, sucking and licking him, and he had to work hard to fight the urge to buck up against you. He could feel you occasionally rub yourself against the open zipper of his pants, and each time he was afraid he was going to finish before anything really began. 

He didn't know what to do now. Was he supposed to ask you if you wanted to move to your bed? Was he supposed to tell you it was okay to touch him anywhere? Was he allowed to touch you anywhere?

When he eased his hands up along your butt only to determine that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, you kissed him hard. And then you slid from his lap so that you were kneeling on the floor between his spread thighs, and Bob watched you lick your lips. You reached for his pants and underwear and guided them down his legs while you smiled softly at him. When his hard cock was just inches from your lips, he got nervous again. But then your mouth was on him, and he had never in his whole life felt anything this amazing. 

You kissed his tip before parting your lips and sliding your mouth around him. He grunted, hands fisted on his knees, veins bulging in his arms. You moaned softly as you wrapped one sure hand around the base of him, and he throbbed with need for you. 

"You're really big," you whispered, pausing to kiss along his length, nudging him with your nose. He tipped his head back against the couch, praying that he wasn't going to embarrass himself after ten more seconds in your hand. When he felt your tongue lick his entire length from his balls back up to the tip, he snapped his head back to attention to watch you take the bead of his precum onto your tongue. 

And then you smiled again as he gaped at you. "If you don't like it this way, that's okay. You can tell me what you like best," you whispered before turning your head slightly to kiss his left fist where it was balled up and shaking on his knee. "And you can touch me if you want to."

Bob swallowed hard and then immediately blurted out, "I've never had a blowjob before."

You stared up at him, brow creased in confusion, pretty lips pursed. He could feel his face flushing, he was probably bright red. You were still stroking your thumb along his penis as you cocked your head to one side. 

"What do you mean? Never?" you asked softly. 

He shook his head back and forth in short, jerky motions, and he was so embarrassed. He thought maybe he should just leave. He shouldn't have even come home with you. "Never."

Then your face relaxed a bit, and you kissed his tip one more time before climbing back onto his lap. Bob relaxed his fists and wrapped his arms around your waist as you sat with his hard cock at attention between the two of you. But you didn't look bothered by anything now as you asked, "How old are you, Bobby?"

He swallowed hard and met your eyes, "I'm almost thirty."

You nodded and kissed his nose. "Have you had sex before?" you asked softly, pressing your lips to his cheek. 

"Yes," he replied, melting into the feel of your fingers and lips on him. "I've had two girlfriends."

"Okay," you told him, smiling before you kissed him. "So here's the deal, Bobby. I really like you. And I'd really like to give you a blowjob. If you want me to. And then I'd really like to take you to my bedroom, and I don't care if we just cuddle and talk, but I want you to stay with me all night. And then we can go out for breakfast. And then we can go out again after that if you think you like me as much as I like you."

This time Bob leaned forward to kiss you. "I'm nervous that I'm going to embarrass myself."

You laughed softly. "How do you think you're going to embarrass yourself?"

He let his gaze wander all over your face before he looked down at the couch cushion next to his thigh. "You know... I'm not going to last more than a minute."

Your soft sigh as you ran your fingers along his penis had his gaze snapping back to yours. "Oh, Bobby. I don't care about that." Then you bit your lip for a beat before you added, "It's kind of flattering, getting to do this for you. If you want me to. And if you cum really fast...well, we can try it again later. But that would be flattering, too."

He nodded his head, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek as he said, "Okay."

And then you were kneeling between his legs again, and he ran his fingers along your cheek while you stroked him with your hand a few times. "Ready?"

Your mouth was warm and wet, and Bob was treated to the feel of your tongue swirling along his length. It was the best thing he'd ever felt. Until you sucked on him. "Oh my god," he gasped, watching your pretty eyes as you looked at him. When you started to move your mouth up and down his cock, he laughed softly. "You're amazing."

You moaned while he was deep in your mouth, touching your throat, and he could feel his entire body start to tighten up. He wanted to panic, but then you bobbed along slowly, and he could only feel pleasure as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your head. And with one more swipe of your tongue, he was ejaculating right into your mouth. 

He couldn't formulate words as he grunted and watched you suck on him and swallow his cum. When he touched your throat as you swallowed him down, he groaned softly. 

"Was that okay?" you asked before licking up a little more cum that dripped out like it was a treat for you. Your hand was still wrapped around him, and you were treating him like a lollipop now, and he already wanted you to give him another blowjob. 

"Yes," he managed to say, feeling quite boneless on your couch as you giggled. 

"I liked it, too," you assured him. "Let's go to my bedroom." You pulled him to his feet, and somehow his brain recovered the knowledge of the mechanics of how to walk. He pulled his underwear and pants up as you led him along. He barely had a chance to look around your room before your hands were gently undoing his shirt buttons. And then you undressed him down to his white briefs, running your warm hands along his biceps and shoulders with a look of awe on your face.

Bob wouldn't say he was self conscious exactly; his body was strong, and it did everything he needed it to, because he took care of himself. But he wasn't as handsome as Hangman and Coyote, and he wasn't as muscular as Payback and Rooster. But you didn't seem to have an issue with anything you saw as you folded up his uniform and then pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. 

When he reached for your dress, you bit your lip and immediately said, "My body isn't perfect like yours."

"Perfect?" he mumbled. You thought he looked perfect? That was impossible. You were so close to perfection, he still couldn't believe you'd even talked to him at the Hard Deck in the first place. And with each additional time he looked at your face, he was certain you just got prettier.

"Yeah," you told him as you ran your fingers down his flat abs and then along the waistband of his underwear. "Perfect."

But you looked up at him and reached for the hem of your dress before you pulled it up your body and over your head, dropping it on top of his uniform and kind of shrugging. You were completely naked now, and Bob hadn't been prepared. At all. He started stuttering at the same time his cock started getting hard again.

"I th-think... wow." He took a deep breath and started over again. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"So smooth," you whispered. And then Bobby was in your bed as you reassured him that it was okay to just snuggle with you under the warm blanket. So he pulled you against the front of his body, and he was the big spoon as you kissed his hand.

He was sure you must have been able to feel the press of his erection against your back, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead you asked him all about himself, and you told him stories, too. And after a while, Bob's hands grew a little bolder, drifting over the soft skin of your belly and hips until it sounded like you were begging for him. Soft little moans filled the space while you whispered his name. He wasn't sure what to do next, but you rolled over to face him and started to kiss him. 

Yeah, this was really good. He liked this immensely. He liked the way your hands on his bare skin made him feel safe and grounded. He liked how you were going slowly again, because when you finally reached down toward his cock, he was ready for it. 

"Wait," he whispered, pushing you gently onto your back. "May I do to you what you did to me earlier?"

"Yes," you whispered, slowly spreading your thighs apart as Bob nodded. He'd done this a few times before. He'd liked it in the past. But when he put his lips on your slick slit, he moaned in pleasure which made you moan as well. He liked the way you tasted and smelled, and when he licked your opening, you were already gathering the sheets in your fists. 

That seemed like a good sign, so he just kept going. At each encouraging sound or gasped word from you, he went harder and faster. Soon you were loud. Like very loud. You were propped up on one elbow watching him. And you had one leg draped over his shoulder, heel digging into his back as you whined, "Bobby! You've done this before!" You were rolling your hips up against his face, nudging his glasses. 

When he slowed his movements to reach up and removed them, you gasped. "Don't you dare! You leave your glasses on!" Your eyes were flashing with need, and Bob did exactly as he was told. 

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered with a smile as he returned his mouth to your pussy. He licked and sucked until you were yanking on his hair and riding his face, and then you came with your back arched, whining his name so loudly, he thought your neighbors could probably hear. 

"Bobby!" you gasped before collapsing back on your pillow. And just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any better, you took his hands in yours and ran them along your breasts. "Kiss me," you demanded, and so he did. You licked his lips clean while he squeezed your breasts, and soon he was tasting you there as well. 

You were alternating between pulling him up to kiss your lips and pushing him down to kiss your breasts, and really there was no bad option for Bob. He could probably do this all night if that's what you wanted. But you seemed to want more, because you rolled him onto his back and pulled his underwear off in one swift motion.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't have any condoms with you?" you asked softly, kissing his bent knee. 

He shook his head, but at least he was pretty sure he wasn't blushing any longer. "No. Sorry."

"I have some," you reassured him. "But... I don't know if they're big enough." You scooted off of the bed and walked out of the room, and Bob got a little apprehensive. He didn't know his size could potentially be an issue? He didn't even know he would be considered big. 

But when you walked in a minute later, tearing open a small box with a smile on your face, he felt better. Bob tried to roll on a condom, but it broke immediately. "It's okay," you said with a laugh, trying a second one which also broke. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a laugh. But you managed to get the third one on him successfully.

"I'm on the pill anyway," you told him. "You know, in case this one breaks, too."

"Alright," he whispered against your lips as you straddled him and guided your pussy down around him, inch by inch. You kissed his lips and cheeks and neck, running your fingers through his hair as you set a slow, steady pace.

But Bob was almost immediately stammering and blushing. "It feels too good," he told you, but you silenced him with your kisses and went a little harder. You felt so tight, so perfect, and you were letting him touch you everywhere. Your breasts were soft, and you were arching your back, pressing yourself into his hands. 

"You feel good too, Bobby," you promised him, grunting softly as you rode him. He let his hands slide slowly down your sides until they were on your hips, and that was a mistake. Because he could feel the motion of your body taking his. He could feel the roll of your hips against his palms.

"It's too good," he groaned, and then he was coming inside you. "Sorry," he whispered, panting against your shoulder as his pleasure washed over him. 

"Don't apologize for anything," you told him, riding him with slower movements until he was breathing like normal. 

"I just want to be better for you," he promised, and when you adjusted his glasses for him, he smiled. 

"We have all night."

Bob frowned at you. "Can we have longer than that?"

You looked down at him with parted lips. "If you still want to?"

"I thought we agreed we were going to date," he said. "Breakfast is one thing, but I thought we could do all kinds of stuff together. Hang out and maybe I could be your boyfriend after a week or two."

Without another word, you kissed him. And you didn't stop kissing him. And late night turned into early morning, and there were a few more experiments with the condoms. And a few without. 

And instead of ever making it to breakfast, Bob ended up treating you to lunch instead. He wore his wrinkled, day old uniform that you insisted looked adorable on him while he sat with his arm around you. And then he took you to see his place, which consisted of lots of snuggling and another blowjob. 

"My friends are asking if I'm going to the bar again tonight," he told you, running his fingers along your arm as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Do you want to go?" you asked, pressing your lips to his neck.

"Only if you come with me."

And when Bob strolled into the Hard Deck again on Saturday night with your arms wrapped around his waist and your voice in his ear, he just smiled at the looks he was getting. It didn't matter if he thought he was as handsome as Hangman or as strong as Payback, because you kept assuring him that you thought he was. 

You spent another evening touching and kissing him, perched on his leg and laughing. And he made plans with you for the following day and the following weekend and the one after that. He wouldn't be surprised if he was making plans with you every day for the rest of his life. And he would let you name the golden retriever. 

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

I wonder what the dog's name will be. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

[wonderlandwalker]

Against All Odds | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Nobody anticipated this game of strip poker between the four friends. It’s only when James loses his cool that the game ends

Content Warnings/Tags: mostly fluff, insinuations of smut, alcohol consumption, wolfstar as a side plot

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: a small attempt at dipping my toes in the smut world. Divider by @saradika

Not one of you knows how you got into this situation. With strangers, this probably would have been easier. Won’t have to deal with the consequences that way. But now, Remus, Sirius, James and you are all sitting on the floor with a bottle of fire whiskey in the middle, playing poker. strip poker.

You were probably the one with the best odds in the game. Your brother had taught you, but at a young age, you were never very good at it. You have gotten better while you grew older, your fate sometimes resting on your poker face after starting to hang out with the pranksters that the marauders are.

Remus was the second-best player in the group. He was good, very good, but he had a tell. Sirius figured it out before he even played against him, his tell shining through even when he wasn't playing. You figured it out in your first game against him.

Sirius came next. He had learned from his father, who thought it important for his son to learn when he was only eleven. It is probably unnecessary to say they didn't have the best relationship.

James’ poker skills were close to Sirius’, but his poker face wasn't as good as his. He learned to play in his 4th year at Hogwarts. He had snuck into a Slytherin party with Remus and Sirius. But after they had been gone for quite longer than it took to ‘find something to drink’ he guessed that wasn't what they were up to anymore, and found the game a few of the older years were playing to occupy himself.

But somehow, Remus was winning. He had only won from you twice. Once when you were distracted, your head not being in the game. Once when you had drank a tad too much dragon barrel brandy. Remus knew he couldn't win from you when you were trying. So he knew you weren't.

The only reason Remus hadn't lost yet was because he started with a lot of layers. You started in a dress and had already taken off your cardigan, making a show of it. Remus was still almost fully clothed, having taken off his jumper when he lost against you, but having been wearing a shirt underneath. Sirius started out in his standard attire and had lost both his signature leather jacket and his shirt underneath.

Remus won again, and it started to bother him. He knew he wasn't cheating, but it wasn't right either. He was the type of guy who wanted to win fairly and started to itch when he didn't.

James lost, but didn't seem to mind. Before he could take off another piece of clothing, you leaned over the stack of cards that was between you. Your face didn't show much of what you were planning, but before he could wonder all too much, you slowly started to take off the tie of the uniform he had been wearing, not accidentally giving him a front-row seat to the view of your chest while you were leaning over. He decided that this was one of the few times he really didn't mind losing.

When you were finished, you loosely fastened his tie around your own neck, letting it fall over the v-line of your dress. Knowing your company, you knew normally one of them would argue that this was against the rules of the game, but given the amount of alcohol consumed and the number of longing glances exchanged, you knew you were no longer playing very strictly.

A little further along in the game, both Sirius and James barely had any clothes left to remove, and while they didn't seem to mind it, Remus started to get increasingly nervous when Sirius would have to strip another article of clothing.

By now, Remus still had his trousers and shirt on. You were left in only your dress, having taken off your stockings when you lost a little while back.

The next round was dealt, and while you were playing, it slowly started to become unmistakably obvious you were trying to lose. While there was a small attempt from one of them not to make you end at the bottom, keeping someone from not losing proved harder than keeping someone from winning. When the round was over and there was no doubt you had lost, you switched your gaze from the cards in front of you, to James, your face seeming innocent but your eyes were playing an entirely different game.

“Would you mind unzipping me?” You ask with the purest voice James had heard from you all evening. You turned around and sat on your knees with your back against him. Carefully he put your hair over one of your shoulders, a shaky sigh leaving his lips in the process. He had seen you naked more than enough times, but drunken strip poker with your two best friends was another thing entirely.

Slowly he moved the zipper down your back, and apart from the sound of the fabric moving, the room was quiet as could be, not helping to relieve any of his tension. When the zipper started to reach your lower back, James realized you weren't wearing a strapless bra as he had originally assumed. Not wearing one was something that happened more often than not when you wore a tight dress like this, the thought of this had however not passed his mind until the moment his hand passed over the bare skin of your back. Once the zipper had reached its end, when you stood back up, you patiently started to move the material down your body. While doing so, you did not seem to notice the awkward energy radiating off Remus, who was currently looking anywhere besides the show you were putting on for James.

Until James couldn't take it any longer

The moment the dress dropped from your figure to the floor, not one single person in the room had a similar reaction. Remus was looking down at his feet, suddenly fascinated by the pattern of the floorboards. Sirius didn't have much of a reaction at all, he had seen you naked before and was currently focused on how entertainingly flustered James looked. James seemed to jump into protective mode right after, either that or he was trying to distract himself from the tightness that was growing in his trousers while in the presence of your friends. He grabbed his jacket from the floor while he sprang up, and hastily put it on you. But that did not seem like enough for him just yet. He bent down a little and placed one of his arms under your knees and the other around your back, and lifted you from the floor. At James’ sudden move, you made a sound that seemed to represent both surprise and excitement.

“That's it, we're leaving” James stated, walking towards the door with you without awaiting a reaction from either of your friends. When the door shut behind him, Sirius and Remus were left alone, both looking at each other, uncertain what to do next, because you might have left the room, but the tension didn't leave with you.

[panic-at-the-fiction]

The death of you

Summary: You and your best friend have your usual movie night except he can’t seem to keep his cuddly hands to himself and your close to physical combusting. Just a bit of your usual order of slightly angsty desired filled romance with little touch starved reader on the side.

Warnings: doesn’t go any farther than kissing just very passionate, very suggestive, Maybe I’m biased as the author, but damn it’s hot.

A/N: So I’ve been out of practice for 10 months now. Haven’t even wrote more than a paragraph that I just turned around and delete 20 minutes later these past few months. But let’s just say I found some inspiration to use for our favorite fictional men and we’ll see how this goes.

Movie night with Eddie, that’s normal, done it a million times. With friends, just the two of you, late at night, middle of day, outside, inside, at the theater, at his house, thrillers, comedies, action, romance, anything and everywhere for years. So why was this time different?

Currently you were sitting on Eddie’s couch watching the most recently picked out tape from the family video store. Steve let you guys borrow them for free as long as you brought the tape back the very next day. You guys watched movies all the time, so why was your heart beating out of your chest like a race horse on its final stretch to the finish line? Was it because his arm was around you?

No it couldn’t be that, Eddie was a big cuddler, it didn’t mean anything. He loved hugs despite his scary image in the public eyes, and he was always finding weird ways to poke, prod, or touch you. He was the type of friend to bite your shoulder when he got bored, an absolutely feral mad man type guy. And he knew that despite your lack of experience with physical affection, you never mind when it came from him. He always got your free pass.

Maybe it was the slow circles you felt him drawing on your skin? Or how occasionally his hands would slip into your hair, playing with it? Much more intimate little things that were making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin from just the hints at this new kind of physical touch.

Yep, that was definitely the issue.

You tried removing his arm from around your shoulder and instead brought it back down to his side. But when he looked at you with such confused puppy dog eyes, you caved and played it off as just repositioning yourself as you instead wrapped around his arm and leaned into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. You could never deny him anything, just another issue of being so damn in love with your best friend.

As the movie ticked on and you both stuck to your usual quiet with some slight hilarious commentary during the movie, Eddie eventually pulled you closer so that he could bury his head into the back of your neck. One of his hands came up to play with your hair some more.

You knew he wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. He couldn't possibly see it, the way he was laying his head into your neck. Of course, it wasn't a very intriguing movie either, just not a great pick this time. But now he was rubbing the same small circles right under your ear, this time, and every so often his hand would find itself tangled in your hair. You tried to keep yourself straight and breathing consistently without letting your mind wander too far. He had to know this! That HE was killing you slowly.

Your breath nearly hitched this time when you swear you felt him ever so lightly brush his lips against the side of your neck. Did you imagine that part? God, you hoped he would do it again.

You weren’t even questioning why he would do any of this, you just knew you had to get yourself out of there before he realized how much of a mess this was turning you into.

As the movie came to an end you swear he had brushed his lips against your neck at least twice more, and you still couldn’t tell if it was intentional.

“Eddie it’s getting late I’ll have to go home soon.”

“Yeah” he muttered into your hair, all the while holding you tighter.

You gave him, and even more importantly, yourself, another minute before attempting to pull away. “Eddie, I have to get home soon.” You sounded like a broken record as you once again tried half-heartedly to pull yourself free from him.

He only pulled you back in and buried his head into your other shoulder. His arm came around, this time drawing lines down the front of your neck, and you shook at the feeling. This time your hand came up, cupping his head and running your fingers through his hair. Which only caused him to brush his lips against your shoulder once more. That’s it, it had to be intentional.

You swore you would combust into flames if you stayed there any longer like this. As every trace down your throat made you stop breathing. “I'm going to have to be the bad guy. I have to go.” You said, completely pulling away from him this time, moving to the other side of the couch.

He groaned, but nodded as he let you move away from him this time. He ran a hand through his hair before staring at you, darker and more lovingly than you had ever seen before. “Man, you're pretty with your hair messed up.”

God, that was the final straw. You jumped up off the couch. “You can’t say shit like that, Eddie.” You ran your hands up and down your arms, trying to stop how shaken you felt. Your nerves were on high, and he was still looking at you with that same stare.

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because what?”

“You’re my best friend. You can’t sit here and hold me like that, and stare at me like that and kiss my neck softly like that and then expect me to just be able to functionally drive home like it was another normal movie night hangout.” You snapped. He had you wound up and your lack of dating experience left you mad for more touches from Eddie.

He sunk low and pain hit you in the gut. “I didn’t realize I was crossing any boundaries of our friendship.” He said, leaning back on the couch. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.”

You sat back down next to him, panicking as you realized how he took your reaction. “No, god no, no that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel uncomfortable, Eddie. EVER! I mean, it wasn’t bad like that. It was good…horribly, terribly good. The kind of good you aren’t supposed to feel when watching a movie with your best friend.” You rambled.

So this was how you were going to confess to him your feelings. Man, he had you so on edge, you would admit anything to him right now if he asked.

That almost hungry stare returned to his eyes as he looked back down at you. You had read about that stare before, many times, and honestly, you thought it was an overused phrase in romance. The hungry stare, but honestly, what else could you call a look like that?

“God, you’ll be the death of me, Eddie Munson.” You laughed, not being able to look at him as long as he stared at you with those big brown eyes.

“You should stop taking the lord's name in vain. It’s a bad habit.” Eddie whispered as he leaned closer to you, getting inches away from you. Your foreheads were nearly touching, causing both of you to gently close your eyes at the feeling.

“It's funny, I didn’t have such a problem with it until now.”

You could feel his breath so close to you as your hands found their way back into his hair. He slowly dipped his head further down, leaving the same light kiss in his wake. He could feel you pull him closer and the kisses gained more pressure in a way you had been craving since he first came anywhere near you with his light touches.

As he kissed harder into your neck, your hands switched from running through his hair to almost pulling at it. You began leaning back further on the couch as you pulled him down with you until Eddie was over top of you. You wanted to give him the room to be fully on top of you, so you wrapped your legs around him as he put his whole force over you.

You felt engulfed and dazed in a way you never experienced before as he began to kiss you faster moving sporadically across your neck until he had kissed almost every square inch of you. You focused on keeping your breathing even, trying to spare yourself embarrassment from how simply he had you melting underneath him.

He pulled away from you, hovering over you with that same stare that was filled with so much adoration in it. “God, I would keep you here all night like this. Just right here, all mine, and with nowhere else to be. It’s just so satisfying to be able to wrap you up and hold you in a way I know no one else gets to.”

“You know, I think… I don’t really have to get home tonight. No one’s going to miss me if I stay here.” You said breathlessly.

Eddie grinned like the devil looking over you. “Good,” he said as he finally bent down, capturing your lips. His hand came up to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet him.

That was the last straw, you were a melted puddle that belonged to him now. If this was to be only the beginning of the evening, then surely Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

[eevees-hobbies]

HIHIHI may I request some Sakura please, your greatness 🧎‍♀️ who despite his tough boi act, absolutely worships the ground his lover walks on and showers them in love (before, during AND after sex) oooou it’s rotting my brain i need him to cuddle me stat

Author’s Note: Ah, so you’ve come to me with a Sakura request, I see. And a cute one like this, too? I get it, anon…I do. I get it because you and I are a lot alike. Sometimes you like the idea of Sakura bending you over and delivering loud, nasty, toe-curling backshots to you as he talks shit in your ear (same, same), but other times you crave a different version of him. You crave a soft Sakura, a comfortable Sakura, a tame Sakura that doesn’t flinch when you touch him but instead leans into your touch and looks at you with absolute devotion, right? Me fucking too. So you want broken-in, house-trained, and domesticated, Sakura? My pleasure. 

Content Warning: Fem!ReaderXHaruka Sakura. Business (fluff) in the front & party (smut) in the back! Smut will be below the last divider. Sweet Sakura, who shows you love through some love-language type things. And then intimate love-making. You make love while half-asleep (mmm). Tame smut. Eve mentions Bridgerton again because there is now continuity in my stories, and I’m not sorry about it (don’t ask me about the show; I’m on season 1, episode 3, but I love the idea of it). Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2K

Divider by Saradika. Banner by me.

Sakura had watched you all day, and he hated what he was seeing. You two had planned a beach day on a rare day off for him and a light work calendar day for you. But when the universe hears about plans, it often laughs aloud and offers a wrench.

He couldn’t quite understand the intricacies of your work-from-home job beyond that shit was hitting the fan. You sat dutifully in front of your laptop, answering constant pings coming from god-knows-where and from god-knows-who to the point that Sakura felt he could time them perfectly. 

Ping

…

Ping

Yup, perfectly timed. 

And with each call or message you answered, he saw your shoulders rise closer to your neck, the tension making you hunch in a way you’d certainly feel later.

And he couldn’t help you with whatever the fuck KPIs or logic models were, but he could help you in other ways. So, he grabbed his keys and set out for the day.

As your workday concluded, your fingers found the bridge of your nose in an attempt to massage away the tension migraine that was rearing its head. Not only was today stressful, but as you looked around your empty apartment, you found Sakura to be gone. You hoped he wasn’t upset about not going to the beach, but you’d understand if he was.

As you stood out of your ergonomic office chair to stretch, ready to open the refrigerator to cook something up quickly, the door to your tiny abode opened. 

You let out a breathy laugh—Sakura is blocked from your line of vision, and only a few single tufts of black and white hair peek over the various restaurant and grocery bags in his arms. As you croon your neck to watch him struggle his way inside, you also see that he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers with an unmistakable logo tucked firmly under his armpit.

He’s grumbling as he sets the items down on the kitchen island; something about hating living so high up, but you can’t bring yourself to dial in on his ramblings as you read the names of your favorite places on the bags.

“You got us ramen, kitten?”

“Yeah. Miso with extra beansprouts like you like, with some Gyoza on the side. It’s probably cold since it’s like climbing a fuckin’ mountain to get up here, but I can heat everything back up.”

He begins removing food, snacks, face masks, popcorn, and drinks from the bags. Your heart pangs with remorse at even thinking he was upset about your inability to go to the beach. Sakura is complicated, but he’s not childish.

“Also, Umemiya said something about the flowers, but you might have to text him about that. I zone out when he starts talking plant-talk.”

“Same,” your arms find his waist, your cold hands sneaking up his shirt and rubbing at his prominent v-line as you wrap yourself around his whole person. “Thank you for this. I love you so much.”

Sakura blushes, a personal trait he’s tried to stop fighting long ago. “Sure, but go ahead and sit on the couch. New episode of Bridgerton tonight?”

You rub your palms together excitedly, “I’ll get the fuzzy socks, kitten!”

After getting through half an episode of Bridgerton, Sakura noticed you were fighting a losing battle with your sleep needs. Heavy eyelids and your head growing slack on his shoulder were all the signs he needed to turn off the TV and scoop you up in his arms.

“Bath,” you mumble against his chest. 

“Bath,” he offers in return.

“You sure?” he mumbles against your lips, “your eyes are barely open.”

“Mmm, but my legs are open, baby. See?” You wrap your thighs around his midsection, trapping him in and pulling him closer.

The heat radiating from your clothed cunt is undeniable, you’ve probably wanted him all night, and fuck, he felt the same way.

Sakura’s lips trace the curve of your jaw with gentle kisses and flicks of his tongue until his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. Your pulse is calm—so slow that he wonders if you managed to fall asleep until you shift under him and let out a sigh.

“Sakura...need you.”

“Yeah, babe. You got me. I’m right here.”

As he pulls the seat of your underwear aside, the slit of his cock already giving way to shiny droplets of precum, he sinks into you with a sigh escaping his lips at the familiarity of you. He can’t help but think of all the ways he loves you. Moments like this make him feel like the best version of himself—someone worthy of being loved and giving love. 

He briefly presses his forehead into the valley of your breasts, letting your slick walls adjust to his girth. You’re wearing one of his white tee’s and smell so unmistakably like him that he’s positive you put on his deodorant after your bath. The thought of being so connected that you dress and smell like him while still maintaining your own smell makes him want you more.

His cheeks rub against your breasts, soft and heavy even through the pesky fabric, and because even one barrier is a barrier too many, he is now lifting the shirt over your head and tossing it to the corner of the room. 

His cock twitches at the erotic sight of you, fully naked except with your panties shifted ever so slightly to the side, puffy pussy lips wrapped around his cock, and hole stuffed to the brim with him. He’d call it a fantasy if this weren’t his real life. 

His feather-soft touches—reserved only for you—cascade from your stomach down your hip before the idea of not moving and not making love to you becomes too unbearable. His hand grips one of your thighs, and he pulls his hips back slightly, dragging the length of him against your silken walls and then forward, your pussy so wet, so creamy, and welcoming for him.

In his mind, he’s giving thanks, thanks to the shitty universe that finally felt enough pity for him that he was blessed with you. 

He has to steel his resolve, however, because when he begins to think like this—think about how lucky he is to have you, to be buried inside of you—he’s prone to lose himself to you far earlier than he’d like and he wants this tryst to last. 

“Haru, feel so good.” your words are slurred and dripping with the slow drawl that comes with sleep, but your body is deliciously reactive for him. The creamy sounds of his cock mixing with your thick slick fills the room so lewdly and loudly that it makes both your cheeks heat up as your love is audibly personified. 

“You do, too. P-pussy feels amazing.” 

He loves you so much his heart hurts. His other hand finds yours, entangling his long fingers with your own. And the way you rub at his bruised knuckles, fresh from a fight, doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Even in your half-awake state, you still care for him and want to ease his discomfort. 

He slots his lips against yours where they belong, wishing that he could give you a more heated kiss, the kind that you like where he lets you suck on his tongue, but this is perfect, too.

You open your mouth, ready, so willing to accept him. He’d never say no to you, and he’s not going to start tonight. His tongue eagerly slips into your warm cavern and is immediately greeted by yours as he traces and flirts with it. 

God, the taste of you is perfect.

If he could drink every bit of your saliva, thick and minty, he would. 

Sakura pulls back, his chest aching a bit as he does so, but this question is important.

Breathy, soft whispers from a mind and body that is so lost in his lust for you can’t stop him from checking on your well-being. “Is this… you ok?”

“Mmmhmm”

His thrusts are steady and deep, practically slow, as he pulls out until the head of his dick stretches your tight hole to the thickest part of him. He’s then languidly pushing back in, savoring you and how you feel around him. He knows the feeling so well, yet it feels novel every time.

His eyes watch your face as your brows furrow; your tongue darts out past your lips to moisten them, the way your mouth falls open when he grinds the tip of his dick against your g-spot.

You’re so beautiful. 

His hand travels down and finds your clit. His thumb gently pushes the hood back, flattening the pad of his thumb he gently flicks at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so warm and drooling with want from him that he lets out a whimper.

 “I love you.” 

Your breathing quickens, but you lap up his words like they are a scarcely available resource. When Haruka Sakura tells you he loves you, he means it. 

“Love you too, Kitten.”

“I want to make you cum. You think you can be a good girl for me and cum?” 

“Yes, baby, I’d love that. Almost there, please don’t stop, Haru.”

“No, never.” 

He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, moaning as your fingers rake through his hair. Every part of you is his favorite, but your breasts hold a special place in his heart. He sucks on them maybe a bit too eagerly, but you don’t seem to mind; as he pops each nipple out his mouth, they glisten with saliva and stiffen into needy peaks.

Your pussy is clenching him more now; he can tell that you’re close, and he loves that he can do this for you. 

His thrusts have picked up slightly in speed, but they’re harder—communicating more want—the headboard now bucking against the wall and making consistent banging noises. As your cum splashes out of you with every flick of his hips, your inner thighs and his abs being coated in nothing but your slick, you pull him down flush against your soft body.

You see your orgasm before you feel it like fireworks exploding in your brain and setting off each pleasure sensor as your eyes dilate. You get that wonderful lightheaded feeling that comes with taking too many rapid breaths in a short amount of time.

Sakura moans as you clench around him, your walls gripping the head of his cock and massaging that sensitive spot on the underside of his dick. He can feel hot, white streams of his cum pouring into you, filling up every inch of you until your walls are painted white with his seed. He gives you a few more final, deep thrusts to ensure that his nut is deep and buried in what’s his, his thighs trembling at the idea of you being stuffed to the brim with his love, making him absolutely weak.

“Mmm, pervert. Did you just nut inside of me?”

He pulls away, leaning across the bed to grab a towel that’s settled nearby—first to clean you up, dabbing at your folds and thighs, and then himself.

“Sorry, should have used your face for target practice. Go pee so you don’t get a UTI.”

He helps you up; your eyes are still half-open as he guides you to the bathroom. As he hears the click of the door and the sound of a steady stream hitting sitting water, he turns to continue his routine. 

Sakura grabs the previously discarded white tee, places it on the bed for you, and then heads to the kitchen. He grabs a glass of water and a granola bar, just in case, and places both items on your side of the nightstand. 

He looks down at the sheets and briefly considers changing them; streaky, white, wet stains stand out as evidence of your lovemaking, but he hears the sound of water coming from a faucet, and he doesn’t want to hinder your sleep any longer.

You exit the bathroom, rubbing your eyes and yawning. 

“Here,” he says, getting up with the shirt, pulling it over your head and down your body, and then guiding you back to bed.

You snuggle up next to him, and you drift off. Typically, Sakura might spend this time staring at you, wondering what you’re dreaming about as your face gives way to adorable expressions in your sleep, but this time, he joins you in your slumber instead. 

[catladyoftheyr]

★彡[ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ, ᴍʀ. ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜰᴀᴄᴇ!]彡★

𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓵!

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (18+ only, SMUT)

Note: idk this is set on Halloween and i wanted to put it out then but shit happens lol. 2 am Nov 2 is better than never sooooo

Summary: You arrange a spooky threesome with Satoru and Suguru 👹 (the focus is them railing you but there is bits of m/m action)

Warnings/kink highlights: mentions of stalking (no actual stalking occurs), scary phone calls, mask kink, rough sex, threesome, they get a little fruity with it, mmf threesome, Eiffel Tower/spit roast??, cream pie, unprotected p in v, cum eating, face sitting, blowjobs/face fucking, light exhibitionism, moments of sex acts on camera, degrading language.

Word count: 1.9k

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

You and Gojo had been toying with the idea of a threesome for a while. Satoru was normally the jealous type, but when you’d brought up the idea of your 3rd being his best friend, Suguru Geto he’d responded with surprising enthusiasm. You’d teased him about his man crush before but hadn’t realized he’d be willing to take it this far. You weren’t going to complain though; Suguru was incredibly handsome, with long dark hair and a muscular physique. Gojo had reassured you that he’d plan the whole thing, allowing it to be a surprise. You gave him a few fantasies to run by Suguru and decided on Halloween for the date.

Flash forward to October 31st and you were starting to think that Gojo had forgotten or found himself wrapped up in work. You sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and flipped through the channels aimlessly. You paid for cable and there still was never anything to watch. You saw your phone screen light up with an unfamiliar number. “Hello?”

“Are you home alone?” A low voice responded on the other end. It sounded suspiciously familiar.

“Satoru? Is that you?”

“Answer the question. Are you home alone?” The voice was gruff and impatient.

“Alright alright. Yes. I’m home alone.” You hoped this really was Satoru and you weren’t playing along with an actual psycho killer on the line.

“Good. Truth is, I already knew that. I’ve been watching you tonight. And so has my friend. We know you’re sitting on the couch and watching a shitty slasher film. And that you’re wearing a tiny white t-shirt and little black shorts.”

“Satoru, you're scaring me. Knock it off!” You had goosebumps on your arms and the voice in the back of your mind was wondering if the stranger on the phone really was Gojo or Geto, or if you were in real danger. The line went down and a cold chill went down your spine. You looked over to the glass door and saw two figures wearing Halloween masks dressed in all black. You let out a startled scream, knocking over the bowl of popcorn and dropping your phone as well.

The men in the doorway knocked on the glass and you saw them remove their masks, revealing their identities. Satoru and Suguru were bent over laughing hysterically at their prank. You opened the door and allowed them to enter.

“You guys aren’t as funny as you think you are!” You scolded them, fighting back your own grin.

Satoru flashed a cheesy smile and pecked your cheek. “I dunno, babe I think it was pretty funny.” He elbowed Suguru who was still laughing.

“You really should have seen the look on your face” Geto piped in. Their laughter was infectious and you couldn’t hold in your giggles any longer. You playfully swatted at them for the mean joke and wrapped yourself around Satoru.

“Can we take this to the bedroom, Mr. Ghostface?” You whispered in his ear.

“Lead the way and we’ll follow” he murmured back. You grabbed each of them by the hand and led them up the stairs to your bedroom. Once the door was shut firmly behind you, you began to eye the pair up and down. Sugurus' long hair was undone, falling down his back and shoulders. His muscles were prominent through his t-shirt and you could tell his cock was stirring in his pants. You bit your lip and ran a hand down Geto’s stomach, feeling every one of his abs.

Gojo was impatient to taste you and pulled you over to him for a kiss. He gripped your ass and let his tongue enter your mouth. As you kissed you felt Geto press into you from behind, sliding your boyfriend's hands onto his own ass. Geto kissed the top of your head as he ground into you. You were sandwiched between the two men and felt their cocks firming up on either side of you. Satoru was grinding into your sex from the front, and pulling Suguru closer to you as well. You could feel the other cock pressing against your ass.

You weren’t short by most standards, but the two men still stood at least a head or more taller than you. Satoru broke your kiss, pulling Suguru’s lips to meet him. They kissed above your head, still pressing against you like bookends. Geto’s hands trailed up your body, finding your breasts and groping at them. You moaned into Gojo’s chest and hugged him close.

Soon you found yourself on your knees, having been undressed to just your bra and panties. The two men stood nude in front of you, each stroking their cocks while they stared down at you. You caught the discarded masks laying on a side table out of the corner of your eye and grinned mischievously. “Wait. Put the masks back on. Please?” You looked up, blinking big doe eyes with your request. They soon obliged, and you felt yourself grow hot between your legs.

You took Geto’s cock into your hand, barely able to wrap around its girth, and began to stroke while you bobbed your head on Gojo’s tip. You alternated sucking and stroking each of them for a while, until Satoru grew impatient and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He pumped you up and down on his cock, bottoming out in your throat with each thrust. You were caught off guard, gagging on his length. You looked up and swore you made eye contact through the mask, feeling his blue eyes boring into yours as he fucked your throat.

“Don’t be a hog, Satoru. It’s my turn” Suguru interjected. Geto replaced Gojo’s hand with his own, thrusting your mouth onto his cock with no warning. His was girthier than you were used to and you felt your jaw might unhinge as you took all of him. He moaned lewdly as you struggled to take him, clearly enjoying the sight of your eyes beginning to water. He held you down on the base of his cock for several moments, leaving you gasping when you came back up. “Such a pretty girl. I love hearing you choke on these cocks. Such pretty sounds.”

“Stick your tongue out, slut” Gojo suddenly commanded. You did as he asked and he slapped his cock on your tongue and cheeks. You realized he’d pulled out a camcorder from a drawer somewhere and the blinking red light indicated he was filming. “The camera loves pretty sluts like you, baby”

“Show us your tits,” Suguru interrupted, tugging at one of your bra straps. You reached behind you and unclasped it, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. Your nipples grew hard in the cool air of the room, and Geto pinched one of them lightly between his fingers. You didn’t have time to react before Satoru was shoving his cock down your throat again. The two men played tug of war with your throat, constantly pulling you toward themselves and away from the other.

Suguru lay on his back as you lowered yourself onto his face, mask discarded to allow his mouth access to your cunt. His tongue searched for your clit, sucking and licking the small nub voraciously. You gripped the headboard as you rode his face. You slid as you ground down, completely coating his mouth in your slick. Suguru gasped and moaned against your pussy and you turned to see that Satoru had taken the other man’s cock into his mouth. Suguru’s hips bucked up and the vibrations from his moans sent waves of pleasure against your clit. You were close to orgasm and began to ride Suguru’s face in earnest, grinding down against his mouth focused only on bringing yourself over the edge. “Fuck! I’m cumming-“ you cried out as your orgasm burst through your body.

You lifted yourself off of Suguru’s face and lay beside him on the bed. Satoru took notice and pulled you onto his cock, sliding into you from behind as you rose to your hands and knees. “Fuck, Go. Feels s-good” you slurred; still coming down from the bliss and sensitivity of your orgasm. Suguru’s cock was leaking precum and still standing firmly at attention. The dark haired man seized the opportunity to slide his cock into your mouth again. You could barely form a coherent thought as you were being stuffed with cock from both ends. The two men found a rhythm, with one thrusting in as the other pulled back. The steady seesaw motion was building up a second orgasm deep in your core. You could tell that both men were close to their own first release as their thrusting became faster and more erratic. Satoru dug his nails into the flesh of your hips, pounding into you fast and hard.

“Fuck, baby. You take this cock so well. You’re such a little slut, taking two cocks at once.” Gojo’s banter continued, the words enhancing the sensation of him pounding against your g spot. Geto was silent except for lewd moans and the sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Soon he gripped your hair with both hands, holding you down against his crotch as he flooded your throat with salt. You swallowed diligently, feeling Gojo’s cock twitch before he too filled your cunt with his own cum.

Despite having just orgasmed, both cocks were still rock hard and you too were eager to allow them to switch places. “You already lubed her up for me” Geto remarked as he slid his tip against your slit.

“Hope you enjoy second place, I’m already the best cock she’s ever had” Gojo teased back, slapping his cock against the tip of your outstretched tongue. You couldn’t have anticipated Suguru’s next move as he dipped two fingers inside of you, gathering Satoru’s seed on his fingers. Suguru popped the fingers in his mouth and made a show out of sucking them clean, complete with lewd mouth sounds and a clear pop! As he pulled them out of his mouth.

Gojo’s eyes glazed over with lust and he mumbled obscenities under his breath as he pumped his cock into your mouth. You gasped as you felt Suguru’s cock breach your entrance. His considerable girth took more than a moment to adjust to, every inch leading to a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. You moaned against Satoru’s cock in your mouth as Geto finally bottomed out inside of you. You’d never felt so full in your entire life. He pulled back slowly before thrusting back in. Once you grew accustomed to his fit his pace quickened and he was slamming his hips against your own.

“So tight, darling. I bet it feels so good to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” Suguru smiled as he talked dirty to you. His words were calculated to get a rise out of Gojo, who’s response was to thrust into your mouth even faster, tightening his grip on your hair. The mix of different sensations was overwhelming as your second orgasm broke through. The only thing keeping you upright was being stuffed with cock from the front and back. The muscle clenching down on Suguru’s cock elicited a loud groan from him as he approached his peak. He thrusted faster as he slammed against your g spot, eventually gushing cum into your cunt. Gojo pulled out of your mouth and immediately thrusted inside of overflowing pussy.

“Fuck baby j can’t help myself: it’s so hot when you’re overflowing with cum. A good girl like you can surely take one more load, can’t she? You’d been flipped onto your back and were laying between Suguru’s legs, head resting on his chest. He kissed you deeply as Satoru groaned, pumping one last load into you. He pulled out and sighed; the three of you collapsed into a pile of post orgasmic bliss in each others arms.

[christall77]

~❦Caught Feelings❦~

​​

Merman x F!Reader

This is actually my first time writing about falling in love and stuff, so I hope I did good!

The art used doesn't belong to me, but to it's rightful owner @weyowang!

TW: ENTANGLEMENT OF MARINE LIFE, other than that it's pure fluff!

Another fish is wrapped up by a loose fishing line, it was the fifth one today Tullius has come across on his way close to the shore. The lone merman wastes no time and swims over to help the poor puffer fish in need. His long, strong, pale tail pushing him through the water with no effort.

Reaching for the puffed up creature he carefully untangles the thin line from its spikes and removes the hook puncturing it's pectoral fin. Luckily the brown and white spotted fish isn't badly hurt and manages to swim off just fine, deflating in the process. That has become an almost daily routine for the male. Everyday Tullius would swim to the beach located not far away from his shipwreck he calls home and collect various trinkets he found. Helping other sea life on the way if he sees them in trouble.

Tullius himself hasn't been safe from the trash and other gadgets humans have lost, or thrown out to sea. Having the scars and even part of a worn out net wrapped around his tail to prove it. The material dirty and grown with algea and tiny barnacles. It's also one of his reminders why he was shunned and eventually exiled from his previous home. Trying to get it off with the help from others when he couldn't do it alone, only for them to end up chasing him away.

Anything and everything human related is frowned upon in his folk. As more people came to visit the beaches, mermaids and mermen were forbidden to come anywhere close to the surface, by order of their king.

But despite knowing how bad it is for his home which he calls the ocean, he can't help but still be curious and fascinated by humans and their strange knick knacks. There's a whole wooden shelf in the downed ship full of things he's collected. One new strange, or in his eyes, beautiful object found throughout his trips is added daily. The merman doesn't even know where to stock the rest of them he'll find in the future!

Tullius has come to like it out here by himself. It's not like he was well liked before either. Tullius was seen as an outsider already by not having a vibrant color of a tale, or beautiful fins like the others.

Of course he has kept safe distances from the shore to make sure he wouldn't be spotted, but lately he can't stop himself from peeking out of the water every so often. Swimming closer day by day, just to get another glimpse of something. Or more like, someone.

Tullius has seen humans before, but when he first saw you he couldn't take his midnight blue eyes away from your figure walking along the beach. Cradling and comforting a seagull you've rescued from drowning. From this day on he couldn't stop himself from visiting, just to hope to get another glimpse of you from behind a few rocks. His organ in his chest beating faster and a warm giddy feeling spreading throughout Tullius' body. At first he confused the feeling with sickness, or the tiny fish he had for breakfast, swimming around in his belly. But then he remembered, food that's been chewed and eaten can't swim anymore.

The male came to realize, this strange feeling returns whenever he's watching you from the distance, but it's not uncomfortable. No. He likes it. A lot. And it grew as time passed, the longer he watched the more enamored he became.

Tullius desperately wants to get closer to you but, what would you think of him? Would you like him back? Or would you look at him with disgust like his own kind? He sure hopes it's not the latter.

Another dreamy sigh leaves his lips as Tullius rests his head in both of his palms, half of his body leaning on top of the rocky surface on his usual watch spot. White tail lazily swinging back and forth in the blue ocean waters. Admiring your (body type) figure doing small dances while you keep singing to your favorite song that's playing through your earphones. Hardly anyone comes to this part of the beach since it's so secluded and luckily for the merman, you've decided to live in a small hut close by! It just happened recently but he couldn't have been more excited, especially since he gets to see you everyday now.

With a soft smile Tullius listens to your lovely voice, his wine colored ear fins twitching occasionally. No matter how good or terrible your singing is to you, he thinks it's the most beautiful sound in the world. The white haired male would love to sing with you, if he could.

Tullius snaps out from his thoughts when he heard a loud "oof" and thud in the sand. It seems you've stumbled over yourself and landed almost face first into the warm sand, for a second he was worried you might've hurt yourself only to make a quiet noise of relief when you get up unharmed. Immediately ducking behind the rock for cover when you take a look around to make sure no one has seen that clumsy act.

His heart beats against his ripcage hoping you didn't notice him watching, taking a quick peek over again Tullius lets out a small sad grumble when you make your way back into your hut and out of his sight. Yes, he does want to get to know you, but he always just gets too nervous for his own good.

But he told himself to finally approach you, the merman just has no idea how. So he ends up swimming around in circles in deep thought. The sound of panicked splashing suddenly makes him look over to the beach where a poor sea turtle is trying to get into the water. Half of its shell wrapped up tightly in a net which is holding the animal just barely away from the incoming waves. Tullius swims over quickly, looking left and right for any sign of another human around.

The male crawls onto shore and drags himself over, his arms lifting his upper body up from the heated sand, the small ocean waves now just barely reaching his white finned tail. Tullius, like others of his kind can breathe in air just fine, but he still has to hurry before his gills and other fishy half dries out in the hot sun. The animal notices the merman closing in and continues to struggle, sand flying in the air and some landing in his messy locks in the process from its flippers.

As Tullius tries to comfort the turtle his scaled hands grasp onto the net and he tries to pull it away, with no luck. It looks to be wrapped around to tightly, almost suffocatingly for one to just pull it off. And slowly but surely he feels himself get dryer. The tides also seem to go against him as well when he notices the water drawing back and further away from them. His eyes start loosing focus and Tullius can feel himself growing weaker and dizzy, until he collapses onto the sand beside the other sea creature.

In his barely awake state, he notices something approaching in the distance, but he's to weak to react or make a noise that would alert the stranger. They come to a short halt and seem to call out to him, whatever it is they're saying rings through his head in a blur. His lack of response makes them hurry over until they finally reached him. Tullius barely feels his hands being lifted and freed from the net, before being held up and brought to who knows where.

Until he feels himself being submerged into the familiar salty water, he splashes for a short moment before calming down and letting himself float to the surface with relief. Dry skin regaining its needed moisture.

Then his deep blue eyes meet your wide surprised (e/c) ones and he yelps, submerging himself in the shallow water to hide.

“Wait!”, That sweet voice of yours calls out to him and he slowly rises his head to the surface until just the top of his head and eyes are poking out from the water. You try to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Throwing the small knife away which you've used to cut through the seams of the net to free both the sea turtle and merman. With a quick glance down Tullius also discovers the lack of a familiar old net wrapped tightly around him now gone.

Keeping a safe distance and speaking in a calm voice as you show you're empty handed now. “It's OK... I'm not going to harm you. See? I also freed your friend if you're wondering.”

Tullius meanwhile almost can't believe his own eyes, the human girl he's been fawning over for who knows how long has saved him. And she's not afraid of him! He keeps staring at you with big sparkling eyes, ear fins twitching happily. “Can you talk?”, the merman tilts his head once he snaps out of his small daze and shakes his head lightly, small waves rippling around his head. While the male has learned and understands human language, he can't answer. Only communicating with clicks and other noises merfolk would use.

“Ah that would've been cool. I can't believe I'm actually meeting a real mermaid! Uhh merman..?” you let out a small chuckle at the end and look at him with big amazed eyes, not believing that a supposed mythical creature is right in front of you. “My name is (y/n) it's very nice to meet you!”

Tullius let's out a few clicks in return, introducing himself despite knowing you won't understand him either way.

The two of you spend a little more time together, the merman still mostly submerged while you've sat down onto the sand with your feet dipped into the shallow waves. Having what feels like more of a one sided conversation since he can't really talk back. But nonetheless, you still understood the small gestures he would make.

Only when the sun slowly starts to set did both of you notice how late it actually is. Standing up you give the merman a small wave, “It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Merman. I hope we can see each other again some time.”

Tullius perks up at the suggestion that you want to meet him again. Tilting his head slightly to the side he makes a small squeaky sound, wanting to know when that time will be and where you're going. Of course you didn't understand him and assumed he was saying his own goodbye, you give him a sweet smile before returning back to your hut.

The male watching your form getting smaller with his ear fins cast down and a pout forming on his lips. How he wished he could follow after you just to spend more time with you. Oh wait. He can.

~~~

It's around ten at night when all of a sudden you hear something entering your small wooden hut. As if something heavy got knocked over. You left your window open to let the small ocean breeze in, and you never expected someone to actually break in. After all, you're basically alone on this part of the island. You made sure when you rented this hut for your summer holiday. Wanting nothing more but to relax and enjoy the beach without having other people there.

But when you sneaked out of your small kitchen with a frying pan in both hands, just in case, you find that merman you've met earlier today, laying face first on the wooden floor. Lowering your weapon you let out a surprised gasp “You? What are you doing here?”, at the sound of your voice he quickly looks up from the floor with big eyes, a happy purr rumbling through his chest as he sits up to the best of his ability. Seemingly proud that he has found you and entered on his own. Because it was definitely not that easy.

Now that he's out of the water you can finally admire the merman more closely. He seems to be your age, soft looking fair skin with small various shaped scars littering over his entire lean and slender body. Clawed hands littered with wine red fish scales spreading from the back of his hands leading up to his forearms and fading in color until they reach up his elbows, where on each a triangular fin with the same color is situated. Three slits on each side of his neck now visible which you guess are his gills are closed shut to instead breath in the air instead of filtering the oxygen through water.

One long dorsal fin, also colored wine red, travels from the back of his neck down and along his spine to the middle of his white tail where another triangular shaped one connects wandering down right to the end. Two extra pairs on the sides of his hips and the other one further down his tail. They all look like they've either got cut or teared on the edges and you wonder if it's as painful as it looks.

Your (e/c) eyes travel back up to his head where a mop of messy wet white hair just barely covers those beautiful dark blue eyes that seem to glow in the darker corner of your room. The merman crawls closer, making your form stiffen up slightly but you do not dare to make a sudden move.

Once he's just a few feet away from you, Tullius opens his fist he's been kept closed the entire time and reveals a (favorite color) star snail sea shell, holding it towards you. “For me?” The male nods with a chirp avoiding his gaze but glancing back at you to watch your reaction. You carefully take it from him, putting the pan away and look at it with awe exclaiming that you love his gift.

Tullius' tail slaps against the floor in delight, a sharp toothed grin and small blush spreading across his cheeks, seeing that you like his courting gift.

And this is how it would go on for a few weeks. The merman slipping into your home in the middle of the night and bringing you gifts, all the while hanging around with you so long until he has to go into the ocean again. While at day time you'll see him peaking out from the waves waiting for you to come visit him.

You came to know his name after you showed him how to write, being amazed what a quick learner your new merfriend is. The both of you bonded quickly and you would end up spending most of the time with Tullius and getting to learn more about him, as he does about you. Even sharing his collection with you and receiving some as well he's never seen before.

Eventually you come to feel a certain way for the merman, and you were hoping that he would feel the same.

Little did you know, you've already captured his heart way before you even knew him.

But the day where you have to fly back to your home from your vacation came quicker than you could count, and it made you sad about leaving Tullius for who knows how long. You have to tell him how you feel before you're gone from this island. So as per usual the first thing you do this morning, is walking out to the beach looking for the merman. And there he was, waiting for you at his usual spot by the small wooden pier leading to your hut.

Smiling he waves at you and does a few happy flips before climbing up the structure and leaping on top of you for a tight hug making you fall onto the wooden surface. Your clothes getting wet in the process but you don't mind and giggle as he purrs and nuzzles up against you.

Tullius has become more affectionate and clingy the closer you two became, but not in an overbearing or annoying way which you admit you find pretty cute.

As the two of you spend the time together, Tullius still having his arms wrapped around you chin resting on your shoulder while playing with your hair, you reveal to him about your vacation time and you ending up leaving this island. His reaction of course as you imagined makes your chest feel heavy. The merman is now pulling you tightly against him, his ear fins pulled down and whimpering softly, pleading for you to stay with him.

While Tullius understood that you had to go, it was very hard for him to accept it. After all, he just got closer to you and now you have to leave! He's worried you'll leave him forever.

“I know... I'll miss you too... ” Tullius rests his forehead against yours at your words clicking in response. And as a final goodbye he gently cups your cheeks slowly leaning in until his soft wet lips meet yours in a sweet kiss, surprising you but returning it with as much love as he's pouring into the gesture. A promise to him that you will definitely come back and visit him.

He pulls away with reddened cheeks and loving smile, loosening his hold and preparing to go back into the ocean waters. Neither of you wanted to leave but it would make it harder to say goodbye. And before he finally leaves, Tullius gives you one last look back and finally manages to form his usual noises into five simple words that fills your heart with warmth and will stay with you until the time comes that the both of you will meet again.

“I... love... you... forever...(y/n).”

[ihavethedreamies]

Oh, Baby-Girl | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.5k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Tall!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Mafia AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Mentions of Guns (Mob/Mafia type stuff), Bodyguard! Chan, Mob Boss Daughter! Reader, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! & M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Spanking, Daddy Kink (it is Bang Chan after all), Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended), Big Dick! Chan

Author's Note: Oh no, what is this? I couldn't have possibly wrote this since I am working so diligently on packing. Well, as long as it's here…

There is just something about the choreography for Chk Chk Boom that did something to me, I'm sure many of you agree.

P.S. If you haven't read my stuff before, or much of it, you might not notice, but the rest of you have probably figured out I got a bit of a face-fucking fascination. Thanks for getting to know me.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Being a mob boss’s wife isn’t nearly as fun and glamorous as the movies and shows (and TikTok) make it out to be. However, being the mob boss's daughter? A bit of a different story. You were protected from the violence and crime, but still got to reap the rewards. Fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, a nice car, and a bodyguard as well. Despite never being able to see him, you knew you were well protected as you walked down the streets of New York, spending all of your papa's corrupt money. A few designer shopping bags hung in the crook of your elbow over your cropped jacket, fur lining the ends of the sleeves and lapels. Faux of course, you might be the daughter of a criminal, but you weren't a monster. The thin heels of your over-the-knee (also faux) leather boots clicked on the sidewalk as you tapped away on your phone with your thumb. People moved out of your way as you walked, you just had the aura of 'fuck around and find out'. The gum in your mouth smacked as you chewed, sneering at a child who didn't move out of the way fast enough. Your eye roll was hidden behind your Versace sunglasses, but your down-turned lip covered in dark red lipstick was still obvious. Your stiletto acrylic nails were the same dark red and clicked against your phone as you scrolled through your search results. Despite how you looked and dressed, you still preferred to shop sales. That gave you more bang for your buck, since your father did limit your money some. As you passed an overly full trash can, you plucked the gum from your mouth and onto the pile. It had lost all its flavor… Approaching the next store, you were about to enter when you suddenly felt something instinctual rise up in you. You halted, people scurrying around you still, and with your natural height paired with six-inch pumps, you still stood a head above a lot of the passersby. You felt vulnerable for some reason and huffed in frustration, shoving the door open to the boutique you had stopped in front of. It wasn't your original destination, but you instantly felt safer being inside. It wasn't anywhere close to the first time your ingrained sense of danger had kicked in, and it wouldn't be the last. You know there was at least one bodyguard tailing you even if you never saw him, but that didn't mean the shelter of a store wasn't welcome.

"Welcome." One of the employees calling out snapped you out of your trance, having been looking out the window at the street. You turned and gave her a forced smile and removed your sunglasses. Deciding to look around while you were in the shop, you admired some of the items, but none of them were up to your standard, but that lingering feeling…lingered. Picking up a pair of shoes to look over, you looked out the window more, trying to see if you could pick out anyone lurking outside. Nope. Pressing your lips together, you sighed and moved to leave. Stepping back onto the street, you looked around again, trying to be subtle, almost like you were looking for a cab. Still not seeing anything that stuck out, you moved on and toward your actual destination. You were hit with an even greater sense of doom as you heard the screech of car tires in the distance and you spun around to see a black SUV hurdling down the street, unusually empty for New York. Like it was in slow motion, as the vehicle approached, the window rolled down and a gloved hand stuck out, a Glock in his hand.

"Shit!" You moved to duck behind a parked sedan, and you yelped when your heel snapped as you dove for cover. Your ankle twisted and your tights ripped, but you got behind the vehicle as you heard the gunshots. People around you screamed, and you scrambled to hit the emergency button on your phone, but… It was shattered. It must have hit the sidewalk harder than you did.

"Fuck!" You shoved the device into your purse, and you watched as people ran and screamed. Getting up just enough to peer through the blown-out window of the car you hid behind, your ankle protested, and you fell back down, catching yourself with your hand.

"Did you get her?" You heard a gruff voice shout followed by, "No!" Then, through the running pedestrians, a huge man appeared, a gun in his hand. He was right down the sidewalk, and you were right in view. Before you even had the chance to pray, a figure stepped between you and the assailant. You couldn't see since he was in your way, but you heard his gun go off and watched the goon fall from between the legs of your savior. He had to have been the bodyguard that your father told you was constantly at your tail. The man groaned and cursed, the same SUV coming to help haul him away, clutching as his knee. Sirens grew closer and you tried to get up, pushing on your scraped hand. You winced again, at least three of your nails on that hand were broken, a fourth cracked, and your heel was ruined. It would have been way too awkward to try and stand with just one pump, so you took off your other one.

"Here." The man who saved you had an accent, you couldn't quite place it in the moment. His leather-gloved hands grabbed your forearms and he more or less yanked you up. When you stood before him, he was…short. About an inch or two shorter than you…with your heels off. He was also really fucking hot. It was clear he was a bit shocked at the height difference as well since he had never been so close to you. Was he the guy always guarding you? You guessed it didn't matter if he was shorter if he was protecting you from afar. He shoved his pistol in the back of his pants, and you watched his white t-shirt struggle across his muscular chest as he did so.

"You okay, love?" Australian, it was definitely an Australian accent. And it was also really fucking hot.

"Y-Yes." You finally answered and you jerked to grab your bags, but he was grabbing them along with your purse before you could get close.

"Can you walk?" He nodded at your bare feet, and you stood on one of them, rolling your twisted ankle to test it. Putting weight back on it, "I can manage." He then started to lead you into the nearest alley as the police cruisers grew closer. At least you had stockings on as you meandered through the not exactly clean back alleys, and he finally brought you to another big black SUV parked behind some bakery.

"Here." He opened the passenger door, and you climbed in as he threw your bags in the back. You sat, shaking still as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Sh-should I be up front?" Your voice was also shaking still, and he started the vehicle.

"The windows are tinted, but we'll be quick."

"Quick? Where are we going?" Your father's building was a good twenty minutes away, let alone the house on the outskirts of the city.

"Closest place is mine."

"Y-you are my bodyguard, right?" You just realized that even though he saved you, that didn't mean it was his job. The man huffed and wrangled his leather jacket off, tossing it in the back as well. The clean lines of your father's crest were tattooed into his bicep, and you slumped in the seat.

"What's your name?"

"Chan."

"Just Chan?"

"Yep." It seemed he had been waiting for you to buckle up, because he reached around you to grab the still unfastened belt, doing it for you. He smelled really fucking good too and your head swam. The spike of adrenaline seemed to get all parts of your body worked up, but you forced the wave of arousal down. It was not the time nor place for any of that. The ride to his place was quiet, thankfully, because if he talked more, you would be a goner. Trying not to be obvious, you would look to the side to stare at him. His side profile was immaculate, strong nose and jaw line, full lips.

"So…are you…?" You didn't know how to word your question without sounding rude.

"Korean." He knew where you were going, and you let out a small 'ah' of understanding. Your father didn't get along with the Yakuza nor the Chinese mafia, so Korean made sense. Korean-Australian at that…right?

"Australia?" You wanted to make sure, not great at picking out the different British-origin accents.

"Yep."

"Am I annoying you?" He sagged at your question and shook his head.

"No, love, just trying to keep an eye out." He pointedly looked in the rear-view mirror and you let out a quiet apology. The silence made since then.

"Put your sunglasses on." Chan nodded at the item in your hand, and you did so, pointedly looking out the window as he pulled up to the security gate of his building's parking garage. Getting in without any comments from the guard, he parked in what you assumed was his designated spot. The guard got out and opened your door for you, giving you his hand for assistance. You grunted when you landed wrong on your still upset angle and he caught you, making your chest press to his.

"S-sorry." You flinched back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and he smiled gently.

"It's okay, Miss (Y/N)." Fuck, if you're already attracted to a guy with an accent, don't EVER let him say your name. As he was out of view to get your bags you mouthed an exaggerated 'oh my god' and quickly shut your mouth when he shut the back door. He led you toward the entrance door for the building, staying slow to accommodate your slight limp. Getting in the elevator, you still kept your sunglasses on just in case, though the building seemed pretty secure. That didn't mean the security watching the cameras were always completely trustworthy though. Enough money can convince most people of anything. You exhaled tiredly as you stopped by his door and Chan pressed the code into the number pad and it pinged. He held the front door open for you and you entered, hobbling down the entry hall. It was a nice place and you wondered how much your father paid him to watch you nearly 24/7. Or…

"So, are you my guard a lot?"

"During the day." So, yes.

"How long?"

"Hm…about three years."

"Ah." That was a pretty long time. So, he probably knew a lot about you, and you had never seen him before in your life.

"Oh! I need to call papa…" You rummaged through your purse that he had set on the coffee table. As you sat on the couch, you then remembered that your phone was broken.

"I'll handle it, love." Chan set your shopping bags and your shoes down as well and you had totally forgotten about your heels. When did he grab them too?

"I need to call a few others as well, if you want something to eat you can rummage through the kitchen." He nodded toward the other room behind where you sat and you nodded as he went down the other hallway, deeper into the apartment. You took the chance to look around and you wondered if he was ever there. Well, if he watched you all day for three years, he probably wasn't. The decoration was simple, almost like it was a hotel room rather than a living space, but it was nice. Maybe his bedroom was more personal? Hearing his muffled voice from further in, you stood and meandered to the kitchen like he suggested. Opening the fridge, there was more than you expected since the rest of the apartment was barren. Nothing stuck out though, but you noticed an object was in the oven despite it being off. You knew exactly what it was. Opening the oven, you grabbed the pizza box and opened it as your mouth watered. You weren't sure if the pizza was your favorite because you had it all the time (it was a front for your father's shenanigans) or if you genuinely liked it. Holding the day-old slice, you chewed absentmindedly, snooping through the rest of Chan's kitchen. He had a little wine display on the counter, and you pulled one of the bottles out to look at the label. You snorted, of course he had your family's vintage. Maybe he got a discount? At least you knew you liked it. Holding the slice in your mouth as you reached for a wine glass in the cupboard, you had to get on your tip toes to reach one. Could he normally reach them? There was dust on the glass, and you pondered if he ever used them.

"Sorry I don't use those glasses often." His voice startled you, but you kept a firm grip on the glass then set it down.

"That's fine… Do you just…drink from it?" You easily and expertly pulled the cork out with your bare hands since it was sticking out enough and he blinked at the ease with which you did so. Just because you were the daughter of a mob boss and didn't fight yourself, didn't mean you weren't strong. Your father made sure if it came to it, you could punch a guy's teeth out just as well as any bodyguard. That didn't help with guns, mind you.

"Uh, no," he huffed an airy laugh, it was actually kind of cute, "I just use a normal glass." He went to the cupboard next to the one you had been in and grabbed a square-shaped cup that looked like it was more for whiskey than wine.

"Are you doing okay, love?" He leaned against the counter as you poured yourself a glass after giving him some.

"I guess. My ankle kind of hurts still." You easily balanced on one leg, lifting the other foot to roll the joint around, testing its pain level.

"Just because I've never met you face to face doesn't mean I don't know you. Are you okay?" He pressed and you flinched to look at him. It wasn't…creepy perse, just, odd. You sighed, taking a sip, your hand still shaking a bit.

"Y-yeah. I mean, I've been around guns and stuff, but… I myself have never been shot at, you know?"

"I do, actually." He smiled cheekily and you sighed in mock annoyance.

"Well, it’s a little unfair that you seem to know me so well and I have no knowledge of you." You walked around the island and back toward the living room, sitting in relief on the couch. You crossed your leg over the other, injured ankle dangling in the air. Chan sat down next to you, leg up on the cushion so he could face you, toned arm resting on the back of the sofa. You felt his eyes linger on your tight-clad legs, your leather short-shorts showing most of your thighs. His gaze stopped at the tear in the supposedly tear-proof pantyhose, then snapped his head up like he just got startled awake. The man knew you knew he was ogling your legs and the tips of ears turned red as he cleared his throat. How was such a handsome man so cute?

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you get to be my bodyguard?"

"I had no mafia ties before. I guess that was a good thing. I was more or less scouted to be a bodyguard when I was a bouncer at some penthouse night club. It seems some of your dad's guys saw I was good, and I got offered way more money than any other job. They doubled it when I took the spot as your personal bodyguard."

"I see. Where did you learn to shoot so well?"

"I started at the shooting range when I was in college with my friends. I got better through work and your father made sure I was an expert before he put his baby girl's life in my hands."

"Hm, you obviously don't know me that well." You picked on a very small detail, wondering if he would know what it was.

"Hm, not his baby girl, his little kitten."

"Oh, maybe you do know me well then?"

"Quiz me, baby-girl." The way he said it was so different than two seconds prior. His tone deepened with it and a smug look settled casually on his face. You couldn't help but watch his throat move as he swallowed a sip of wine and you took a sip yourself, then set the glass down.

"What is my favorite color?"

"Red. Something else."

"Brand?"

"Prada. Something real (Y/N)." Chan leaned further into the cushion. You were right at eye level, and you wondered…

"Does it bother you I'm taller?" You changed the subject so fast he nearly got whiplash. You genuinely were curious. You were tall for a woman anyway, let alone when you did wear heels, and some guys didn't care for it.

"Height doesn't play into what matters, baby-girl." His slightly cryptic answer intrigued you, but you moved back to the previous topic.

"What's my favorite book and why?" He sighed, huffing a laugh at your shift back.

"You tell people it's 1984 because of the psychological implications behind it, but your favorite is actually Dragon Rider because it got you into fantasy. You read it eight times in elementary school, and you have a signed copy." Chan grinned at your bewildered expression. Once again, in any other situation that would be creepy as hell that he knew, but three years of observation would key him in.

"Okay, smart guy," you picked your glass back up, slinging your legs up under you on the couch, facing him.

"Why do I currently not have a boyfriend?" That was something you couldn't just say, it had to be observed.

"You hate romance. Flowers, chocolates, a fancy meal. You hate it, but because you like fancy clothes and jewelry, men think you lean that way. You'd prefer a movie date at home or going horseback riding." Shit, that was a little creepy. More so that he knew you so well, it was like he could see into your head, that kind of creepy. Not that he was a creep. Chan nearly cackled as he giggled at your bewildered expression, and you whined. Why was he that cute?

"Why are you that cute?" You accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud and you immediately froze, since he did too.

"I'm cute?" He managed to get out after you both sputtered for a few seconds.

"W-well, I mean-"

"I'm cute?" The simple inflection change completely shifted the meaning of his question.

"You think I'm cute?" You whispered and he set his own glass down, then took yours so he could do the same. He shifted down the cushion, so his knee touched yours. Chan leaned in and you clenched your jaw to remain strong. Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him.

"Baby-girl, if I didn't do you really think I would still be watching you ten hours a day, every day?" Oh. That was a good point. Chan crooked a brow, waiting for an answer or something, don't kiss him.

"You want to kiss me that bad?" he finally asked, and you jolted back, eyes leaving his mouth and shooting up to his eyes.

"What?! No?" Your voice cracked and he pressed his pretty lips together, so he didn't laugh at you.

"So, you don't want me to?"

"I never said that-" He caught you. Literally. You had tried to reel back so you could get off the couch, but his hand grabbed your wrist. It was gentle, but tight enough that he could yank you back to him, and he swallowed the squeak he pulled out of you. Your body melted, all the tension from the earlier attack as well as the sexual kind that had been quickly taking your body over, left. The kiss grew from a low heat to a full inferno rapidly. Your jacket was shed, then your necklaces and bracelets, and as his tongue crept into your mouth, you clawed at his shirt. Your fingers unevenly scratched at his skin through the fabric since about half of them were broken. You both panted when he pulled back. He slightly shoved you down so your back hit the cushion and he sat up more on his knees and you watched with glee as his shirt came off. Fucking hell, he was perfect.

"Oh my god." You gasped and his smug grin twitched briefly in bashfulness, but he composed himself.

"Let me see you, baby-girl." He easily held himself up over you as his body nestled above yours, his strong jean-clad thigh jammed between your mostly bare legs. He kissed you again as his fingers easily plucked the buttons of your shirt open and he pulled you up by the shirt. As you sat up, you yanked the shirt out of where it was tucked into your shorts and then tossed it away before falling back. The micro-fiber was a much nicer feeling than what could have been cold leather. You shivered when his calloused hands ran over the smooth and soft skin of your sides and tummy. His nose ran over your collar bone, and he nuzzled the swell of your breasts where they sat in your plain nude bra. If you knew you were going to get fucked that night, you would have worn something much sexier.

"Don't worry, it's coming off anyway." It was like he could read your mind and you yiped in shock as he unfastened the front latch so quickly it was like he did it telepathically.

"You wear them with a front latch because you can't reach around your back from when you hurt your shoulder in middle school." He really did know you well. You just blinked but then Chan forced a mewl from you as his strong thigh pressed hard into your covered mound.

"Focus, baby-girl." His voice had lowered even further, and it made you shiver. Strong hands gripped your ass over your shorts, pulling your hips to grind on his leg as his mouth met yours again. You whimpered through the kiss, goosebumps raising on your skin as the button of your shorts easily slipped open, the zipper was pulled down, and then your pants were soaring through the air somewhere you cared not.

"These are already torn…" He justified as he grabbed the hem of your pantyhose and easily ripped them to literal shreds. Chan let the remnants fall to the floor and you felt your slick through your panties against your bare thighs. At least your panties were a cute lacey purple and not just plain nude.

"You're absolutely stunning." He praised, hand running up your thigh so he could hitch it against his hip. Chan rolled his hips, and you squealed at the large bulge in his pants pressing to your barely covered cunt. If he felt that big through jeans, what the hell was he hiding? He chuckled where your hips jumped to get another brush of friction, reaching into his back pocket. As he pulled the foil package from his pants you snatched it from him.

"Planning this?" You tried to tease him, but his gaze darkened.

"Oh, baby-girl, I've wanted to fuck you for two years now." The man declared. You turned the packet over to look at the label, making a mental note at the size, then you looked at him coyly.

"You clean?"

"Yes?"

"Good." You tossed it behind your shoulder, then grabbed his belt loop, pulling him to you as you sat up. You smirked up at him, head tipped back so you could look him in the eye.

"Can you really feel me like you want through a rubber?" He swallowed hard, all that confidence from before seemingly to leave, then rushed back.

"Not even fucking close." He admitted, pushing you back down and starting to lay open mouth kisses against your neck. He sucked hard, his teeth nibbling the flesh and you shuddered with a delighted whine.

"We can put my pill to the test." You teased and he groaned, kissing down your chest. His mouth sealed over your nipple as he wrestled his jeans off and you exhaled in bliss as his fingers rubbed at your folds through the fabric still covering them.

"You care about these?" He snapped the hem of the undergarment. You did, but you really wanted to watch him tear them up more.

"Nope." You popped the 'p' and the lace ripped and joined your other items of clothing somewhere behind him. You yelped when his hands grabbed your waist and shoved you up the sectional, so he had room to lay on his stomach. Before you got the chance to prop yourself up on your elbows, his tongue ran up the folds of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit.

"Fuck!" You tossed your head back, body twitching as he decided to bury his tongue inside you. He groaned at your taste, hands roughly grabbing the backs of your thighs. He rolled you back, holding your legs apart and up as he mouthed at you like a man starved. Your little mewls and squeaks flew out between heaving breaths, and you felt his grip tighten, knowing he would leave bruises. When he let go of your left leg, he made sure you rested it on the back of the couch, and then his finger pressed into your twitching cunt.

"You’re drippin’." He chuckled, then added another finger and your whole body seized. Expertly, he crooked his fingers up, the ends pressing against your cervix and with a final lick to your clit, you came. He eagerly helped you ride out your high, then cleaned his fingers off with his tongue as you panted for air. Your forearm was slung over your eyes as you came back to earth, and you only moved your arm to watch as he removed his final garment. You hadn't even got a chance to look at him in just his boxers, but there he stood in absolute glory. His cock stood proud, arching up toward his toned stomach and you heaved yourself up so you could see him better.

"Oh~" You giggled, wrapping your fingers around his cock and he groaned at the feeling. You bit your lip, eyes meeting his giddily, then you swallowed the tip, whining at salt of his pre.

"(Y/N), baby-girl~" He tossed his head back as you took more of him into your mouth. He was thick, your jaw protesting a bit, and you still had a good few inches to go when the head hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flicked to his again, and you made sure to watch his face and you kept going, only gagging slightly as your nose pressed to his groin.

"Oh, fuck." He nearly whimpered, hands gripping your hair, then loosened his grip. He groaned as you bobbed your head, breath harshly moving through your nose as his cock filled and left your throat. His hips jumped and the sudden movement made you gag a bit harder, but it made your cunt clench as well.

"Shit, sorry!" He panicked, but you pulled off slowly, giving him your best boba eyes.

"Wanna keep going?" You hoped your intention was clear and he didn't even hesitate. The hands still in your hair pulled you back onto his cock and you sat like a good girl as the fat head of Chan's dick battered your throat. Your eyes rolled back, loving not just his rough movements, but the pretty noises leaving his mouth.

"Hm, you want me to cum down your throat, baby-girl?" Chan's hips jerked unevenly, and you could feel his dick pulse on your tongue. You hummed and nearly wiggled with glee as he pressed your nose hard against his lower stomach and painted your throat white. You eagerly swallowed each pump and drop, and he mumbled something about wondering why he waited so long to have you. Only half-softened, he pulled out of your mouth, and you licked the rest off his release of your lips. You didn't even get the chance to give him a smug grin before you were flipped over onto your stomach, and he heaved your hips up.

"Tell me if I do something wrong." His comment seemed odd, but it seemed he really did know you well. You gasped a moan as his hand smacked your ass, the skin stinging, and he could see your empty cunt clench around nothing.

"You want daddy's cock?" His thumb ran through the slick of your folds, and you trembled. There was a very specific reason you only called your father 'papa'. You only wished you had found Chan sooner to actually put it into practice.

"Fuck, yes, daddy!" You squealed in joy, hiccupping when his other hand slapped your other ass cheek.

"Get ready, then baby-girl." You were ready mentally, but your pussy wasn't. Your cunt burned as he buried his fat cock into you with one thrust. You reveled in the sting, craved it, and your already tight walls clenched around him hard. Even if he wasn't fucking you from behind, you were sure he was long enough to fill you completely, the tip nestled tight against your cervix.

"Fucking hell." You sighed, nails digging into the thick fabric of the couch. He let you get used to the stretch, but you just wanted him to move, you were even getting antsy.

"Move, please." Your wiggled were stopped with a hard spank. You yelped.

"Daddy, please." You corrected and he ran his thumb over the reddening skin.

"Sure thing, love." Your cunt tried desperately to keep his cock inside, and a few drops of your wet landed on the couch. Your breath left you when his hips snapped, fucking back into you hard and fast, his pace not letting you catch it back. He loved the little mewls and grunts he was literally fucking out of you. Your cheek was pressed to the cushion, drool already pooling from the corner of your mouth. He had waited too long to take you, he decided, and he was going to make up for the lost time.

"Ch-chan, fuck!" Your orgasm was cresting fast, a familiar burn rising with your orgasm. Spank!

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna-" Your breath shuddered as your orgasm hit and he slowed his pace some, grinding his cock into you as your pussy spasmed.

"Oh, baby-girl~!" He groaned as your cunt squirted even more slick onto his groin and balls, even both of your thighs. You slumped after what seemed like minutes and heaved for air, but he wasn't anywhere close to done. Your near scream as he started to pummel his hips against your ass again went straight to his head. He leaned over you, hands near your shoulders. Normally, he was used to leaning over a girl quite a bit, but his hands fell to the sides of your shoulders rather than your head, your body just as long as his, legs even longer. Despite the small height difference (in your favor), you felt small under him, he had broad shoulders and thick muscles, and an even thicker cock. The hard and deep thrusts turned shallow, his dick barely leaving your cunt but battering it at the same time, bringing you up to and over another orgasm fast.

"So deep, daddy~" You nearly cheered, and he found your weakness. He pressed his hips into yours, barely moving them and you gasped, a fourth orgasm already approaching. He felt your walls clench harder and you felt your pussy start to sting, but you needed to fall apart again. It was too much for him then, your raw heat and gummy walls begging him to pump you full.

"Gotta test that pill." He mumbled, then groaned as he finally fell over as well. The sticky heat of his cum filling you, so much it spurted out from around where your bodies met, pushed you over the edge as well. Your head swam from the force of your final orgasm, stars dotting your vision. As he panted for air over you, he watched your eyes flutter; you were wiped out.

"I'll let you sleep over, baby-girl. Gotta rest for when I fuck you stupid tomorrow morning."

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