#seriously though it was so nice of you to send me all of this

[ellecdc]

i have a small idea! (this totes bounced off that one poly!marauders pregnancy post)

sirius would absolutely find comfort laying on readers belly later on in her pregnancy animagus style🐾

I loved this! you must've read my mind; yesterday I was considering sending out a request for any pregnant!reader or dad!marauders prompts!

poly!marauders x pregnant!reader who Padfoot is obsessed with [1.4k words]

CW: fem afab!reader, pregnancy, discourse regarding shower temperatures

“Wait, so, explain to me why you can’t both just take a shower together?” Remus asked as he followed Sirius and James into the flat, the two boys having argued nearly the whole way home from the shops over who was going to get to shower first.

Sirius made a derisive scoffing sound as if Remus had asked something particularly ridiculous. 

“Remus.” He muttered like he was talking to a troublesome toddler. “My hair and skin are only as beautiful as they are because I don’t scald myself under water heated by hellfire.” 

“My showers are not that hot, Pads.” James argued, though Remus could hear the smile in his voice. 

“My gods.” Sirius breathed out. “It’s starting to affect your brain cells too.” 

James made an offended sound and swatted at Sirius. “Fine, out with you then; go take your freezing shower, but don’t come looking for me for cuddles when you can’t stop shivering.” 

“I’d sooner find Moons for warm cuddles.” Sirius responded haughtily. “Those werewolf genes keep him nice and warm.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement. “Dove may just have me beat there soon.” 

All three boys took a moment to sigh lovingly at the thought of you; growing and stretching and likely more than a little uncomfortable but doing it so gracefully nonetheless. 

“Sirius if you’re just going to sit here with hearts in your eyes…” James started, though he didn’t need to finish his threat when Sirius turned and took off in the direction of the shower.

“You do come out of the shower a little pink, love.” Remus murmured into the side of James’ face once he knew Sirius was out of earshot. 

James scoffed but leaned into Remus’ embrace. “How does he know that hot showers aren’t how I get my hair and skin so beautiful?” 

“Fair enough.” Remus laughed before he moved to put the groceries away. “But I don’t want Y/N getting into any showers with you; we don’t want her blood pressure rising.” 

James hummed in agreement. “But you may have to tell her that; her showers are equally steamy.” 

“Okay,” Remus agreed, “family meeting tonight about appropriate shower temperatures.” 

The two worked through the kitchen in relative silence before James slowed in his movements; dark brows furrowing behind his wire frames. “Speaking of showers, I don’t hear one running.” 

“Did he seriously fight you for dibs over the shower and then not get into the shower?” Remus laughed, causing James to stalk down the hall muttering something under his breath along the lines of “stupid no good sodding handsome boyfriend, going to be the death of me”. 

Remus waited for the inevitable yelp when James startled Sirius from behind, digging his fingers into his ribs in punishment.

He waited for the two of them to start trading insults - far louder than necessary - that quickly divulged into heated kisses where they pressed each other up against various solid surfaces.

Except no yelps, no tickles, no insults, and no passion could be heard.

In fact, it was quiet…too quiet. 

“Is there some weird portal in the flat that my partners keep disappearing through or something?” Remus called as he moved in the direction of the bedroom. “And where’s dovey?” 

But the answer only came when Remus rounded the corner into their bedroom - nearly colliding with James who had paused just inside the doorway - to find you asleep, curled up on your side in bed with a placid looking Padfoot curled up behind you and his head resting on your waist; your ever growing bump (that you’ve insisted cannot possibly grow anymore) dutifully under his chin.

Remus made an affectionate tsking sound as he took in the sight. “Did you get distracted, Pads?” And the dog’s tail began thumping loudly against the bed, though Remus could tell Padfoot was working very hard to not move his body in any other way lest he disturb you. 

The three of you always joked that whatever Sacred 28 gene allowed Pureblood's to appear impassive, bored, and to expertly save face was absent in Sirius, who never bothered hiding a single one of his emotions; the way he was feeling always displayed loudly and proudly on his face, though he claimed that was by choice rather than design.

But for as expressive or closed off as Sirius could or couldn’t be, Padfoot didn’t have a poker face to save his life.  

An almost embarrassing coo left James’ lips as he made his way to the bed, kneeling carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not disturb you, before reaching over to place a hand on your bump.

Padfoot, for his part, snapped his jaw playfully at James, pretending to bite his wrist only to then lick his arm aggressively when James diverted his loving caress to the top of his head instead. 

“She’s been so tired lately.” James murmured to no one in particular once Padfoot seemed appeased and he moved his hand to push some hair back from your forehead. 

“You try building an entire new person from scratch.” Remus chuckled quietly, moving to stand behind James but pausing when Padfoot’s head shot up.

The canine stared down at your midsection with his ears standing straight up in the air before tilting his head comically at a nearly 90 degree angle.

James laughed, making a breathy ‘wha-’ sound when Padfoot’s head snapped in the other direction, snout still pointed dutifully at your stomach. 

The dog let out a quiet whimper and pressed his wet nose into your side, causing James to laugh and Remus to tsk chidingly at him for risking waking you up.

“Is he kicking, Pads?” James asked then, moving his hand to the now damp spot on your shirt from where Padfoot poked you so rudely as the dog’s tail thumped excitedly on the bed. 

“Please.” Remus scoffed playfully as he reached forward to place his hand next to James’. “Don’t you mean she?”

“They” you corrected suddenly - though your eyes remained closed - as your boyfriends (two human and one currently canine) hovered around your midsection “are lucky they’re so loved when they’re currently using my ribs as a kick drum.” Your breath hitching in time with James and Remus’ hands feeling a strong thump and Padfoot’s head tilting the other direction. 

“Awe, I’m sorry, angel.” James cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You should be.” You grumbled, though Remus could see the faint upturn in the corner of your lips. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” James shrilled. 

You hummed in agreement. “They were very well behaved before you showed up.”

“How do you know it’s not Moony’s fault?”

You cracked one eye open to look at Remus who simply winked at you. 

“Just do.” 

“Pads?” James tried then.

“If it was Sirius, I would say the chances were equal.” You admitted as you settled back into the pillow. “But baby is well behaved for Padfoot.” 

“Well…” James started, looking helplessly between his partners. “Well this is just not fair.”

You let out a groan and shoved your face into the pillow at the interruption of your nap when Remus finally took pity on you.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to be showering?” 

James looked over at Padfoot who simply stared back at him before letting out a long sigh and resting his head back down on your belly. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Looks like there’s been a change of plans, Jamie.” Remus translated. 

“Fine.” James grumbled, though Remus could tell his ire was only for show. “Do you wanna join me, Moons?” 

“I showered this morning.” Remus declined as he took James’ spot next to you on the bed.

“I’ll shower with you, Jamie.” You offered as you went to rise, pausing when all three boys protested. 

Well, James and Remus protested. Padfoot let out a bark. 

“You should rest, angel.”

“Leave Jamie to his hellfire showers.” Remus agreed. “I’ll run you a bath after dinner, how does that sound?” 

Apparently that sounded lovely, because you easily fell back into your pillows with a smile on your face, a dog resting its head on your stomach, and Remus rubbing his thumb lovingly against your temple.

[spider-stark]

A BOY'S FIRST PEST

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest

Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN

Word Count - 2.0k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat. 

He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook). 

And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself). 

Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home. 

But it did, of course, have one enduring problem. 

The pests.

Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’). 

Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter. 

In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin. 

When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows. 

Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window. 

Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?” 

With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.” 

“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke. 

Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not. 

You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm. 

If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night. 

And most nights, that’s exactly what you do. 

“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask. 

“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Not at all.” 

Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” 

Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy. 

Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude. 

This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make. 

Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing. 

Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side. 

Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn. 

The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails. 

His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.” 

Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink. 

Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers. 

As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder. 

Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse. 

“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill. 

One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down. 

He lands somewhere in the middle. 

“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment. 

“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?” 

“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?” 

You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.” 

Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension. 

“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.” 

Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…” 

There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.” 

“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?” 

The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk. 

Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.” 

Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger. 

Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes. 

And yet— 

“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.” 

That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt. 

For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest. 

In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom. 

Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant. 

I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying. 

You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin. 

When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist. 

Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.

But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it. 

“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?” 

Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him. 

His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult. 

“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse. 

“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.” 

“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it. 

Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles. 

“Maybe.”

a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU

[starsreminisce]

LucienWeek2024 Day Two Fox

Dandelions in the Wind

Word Count: 3900 Rating: GA @lucienweekofficial

Summary: There is an Old Mother's Tale where burning letters would send those words to your mate, wherever and whoever they are. Lucien Vanserra doesn't believe in it but finds comfort in the ritual. Until one day, his letter to Elain goes missing as he asks a fox to deliver his Winter Court missive to Rhys.

Read on AO3

The wind howled as Lucien gazed through the frost-laced window of his room at Kallias’s palace in the Winter Court. An angry snowstorm swirled outside, white and relentless, as he dipped his quill into the inkpot.

Kallias wasn’t happy with the apology or the terms. I explained it was all Amarantha’s doing, that you acted under her command, but he still holds you responsible. After all, it was you who suggested it to her. Viviane’s been more understanding—she’s willing to trade his life for the children’s. I could propose an even exchange of information: access to the Velaris libraries, if you find that agreeable.

Lucien dipped his quill again, then paused. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, searching for another solution. Kallias and Viviane... he liked them both, remembered sneaking out as a youngling to play with them in the snow. But High Lords and Ladies had their roles to play, and duty often took precedence over friendship. It annoyed him—this need for formality, for guarded words and actions.

A soft pulse stirred in the bond, like a gentle tug in the back of his mind. Lucien sighed and pressed a hand to his lower rib, to the place where his thread to Elain began. She didn’t mean to reach out—he knew that. Even when they weren’t speaking, her curiosity sometimes slipped through the bond, unbidden and undeniable.

Elain.

He couldn’t help it, not always, her curiosity slipping through in moments like this. And in response, a strange habit had started, a way for Lucien to expel his excess energy from her gentle prodding.

Elain,

I’m in the Winter Court for emissary business, and it’s as exhausting as you’d imagine. Kallias is being difficult, and Viviane... Well, she’s not exactly helping. I would’ve thought Rhys and Kallias reached an understanding during the High Lords meeting, but it seems that the fallout was only delayed.

But it’s beautiful here, truly. The gardens are a wonder, even in the snow. The camellias are in full bloom, their petals bright against the frost. Frost Lotuses peek through the snow, and I think you’d love it. I can see you tending a garden even in the depths of winter, finding a way to make life flourish in the cold.

He paused, the image of Elain in a winter garden so clear in his mind it felt almost real. He dipped the quill again, letting his thoughts flow.

I hope you’ll remember the fox messengers from the war. Viviane told me they’re more than just adorable in their vests. Apparently, if you ask nicely, they’ll dance after delivering your message. They take their job seriously. I hope you get to see one when Rhys’s report arrives. They’re quite entertaining.

Lucien tapped a finger against his chin, then continued.

The Winter Court is wonderful in its own way. I hope one day you’ll see it for yourself. I’d love to show you that there is beauty in the cold, as Feyre once told me how harsh winters were as a human… if you’d allow me.

There would be a grand dinner, with much more fanfare than the Night Court’s usual affairs. I hope one day you’ll attend as well. It reminds me of the elegant balls you’re accustomed to, though with a different charm. Hewn City may have its own allure, but this is something else entirely. It’s more whimsical than the gothic grandeur of Hewn City—a celebration of starlit snowfields and glittering frost, where beauty is found in every frozen breath.

Until then, know that you are in my thoughts, wherever I go.

Forever yours,L.

Lucien folded the letter carefully, his fingers lingering on the paper’s edges before slipping it into an envelope. He planned to burn it later, offering the smoke to the wind, like in the old Mother’s tale. They said the ashes would carry the message to your mate wherever they are, delivering your words in their dreams. He didn’t really believe it—but there was comfort in the thought, in the quiet hope that some part of his words might still reach her.

He set the envelope aside and returned to his report for Rhys. A quick note—just a line or two asking for guidance—before sealing it with his official mark.

Lucien rose from the desk and stretched, his gaze drifting to the window. The storm was still raging, snow whipping violently across the frozen landscape. For a moment, he imagined how Elain must have lived in that tiny, drafty cottage, relying on whatever Feyre could bring back from her hunts.

He’d heard bits of the story from Feyre—the endless hunger, the cold that seeped through every corner—and he felt a pang of sympathy, imagining how powerless Elain must have felt, caring for her ailing father in such bleak conditions. He couldn’t help but admire the quiet resilience that Elain’s father had spoken of so highly.

The clock chimed, marking the hour and reminding him that it was nearly time for dinner. Lucien frowned, wondering how he could get his missive delivered in weather like this.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a white fox appeared before him as if conjured from thin air, its embroidered vest gleaming under the soft fae lights. It sat tall and proud, bushy tail curled neatly over its paws, and fixed him with an unblinking, almost expectant stare.

“Aren’t you professional,” Lucien muttered, quirking an eyebrow.

The fox blinked slowly, as if to acknowledge the compliment.

Lucien tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “May I see you dance?”

Without hesitation, the fox rose onto its hind legs and began hopping from side to side, its movements surprisingly graceful for something so small. Lucien couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Elain will love you.”

At that, the fox let out a high-pitched gekker and spun in a quick circle, chasing its own tail before resuming its little dance.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, turning back to the desk. “I have an important letter,” he said. “Can you deliver it?”

The fox sneezed, as if mildly offended by the question, then leapt onto the desk, as if to say I know my job. Before Lucien could stop it, the fox grabbed the envelope in its teeth, hopped down and, with an impressive twist, tucked it neatly into the small pouch on its vest.

Lucien crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips as the fox stretched its front legs in what looked like an exaggerated bow. “Alrighty,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Off you pop.”

He turned back to his desk, ready to begin his ritual of burning the unsent letter to Elain. But as his hand reached for the second letter, his stomach dropped. The letter to Elain was gone.

No. No, no, no.

His mind raced, retracing his steps. He hadn’t misplaced it—he was certain. And then the realization hit him, cold and sharp, like a bucket of ice water.

From down the hall, the faint tap of paws on stone echoed, growing fainter by the second. Lucien’s gaze snapped to the doorway. The fox was trotting away, its tail swishing merrily, both letters bouncing at its side like trophies.

“Come back here!” Lucien shouted, his heart pounding as he bolted after it.

The fox paused just long enough to toss him a smug look over its shoulder, then darted away. Lucien cursed under his breath, feet pounding against the floor. He was fast, but the fox was faster, darting around corners, its gekkering echoing back at him.

Lucien nearly slipped as he rounded a sharp corner, catching only a glimpse of the fox’s bushy tail vanishing from sight.

“Stop!” he yelled, but the creature only looked back again, taunting him with those sharp, glinting eyes.

It dashed ahead, weaving through the palace halls like a ghost. Lucien sped up, breath coming fast, heart hammering in his chest. The fox was playing a game. And he was losing.

Suddenly, the creature veered toward a door with a flap at the bottom and slipped through it, vanishing into the storm outside. Lucien skidded to a stop, lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the flap, which still swung back and forth from the fox’s escape. Its white fur had already melted into the swirling snow, impossible to track in the blizzard.

Irritation prickled at him. He couldn’t winnow directly to the Night Court, not from here. With a growl of frustration, Lucien opened the door and broke into a run again, feeling like he was chasing shadows through the storm. His only hope was the scent that lingered on the paper, his own scent—but it was quickly being swallowed by the cold, crisp air.

Desperate, Lucien headed straight for the River House, knowing he’d be late for dinner at the Winter Court but with no other option. He pushed himself harder, running as if he could outrun light itself.

Within moments, he was standing in front of the River House, breath clouding in the chilly air. He rapped on the door, and it swung open to reveal Rhys, his face already brimming with amusement.

“Well, well, Little Lucy,” Rhys drawled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Lucien swallowed, trying to keep his tone even. “Did the fox messenger come here?”

“It did,” Rhys said, his grin widening.

Fuck.

“I… wasn’t done with the report before the fox took it,” Lucien lied. “May I have it back?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but nonetheless pulled out an envelope from his jacket.

Lucien’s pulse quickened. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Rhys said, though there was a trace of impatience in his voice.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Rhys repeated, slower this time, clearly growing tired of the exchange.

Lucien’s lips pressed into a tight line, and before he could stop it, Rhys sent a vivid image into his mind—a memory, sharp and clear. The fox, looking every bit as dignified as a Court courier, neatly curled its body to retrieve one envelope before handing it over to Rhys. Only one.

“Looks like I, uh, forgot the other half,” Lucien muttered, inwardly cringing.

Rhys’s expression hardened. “This is important, Lucien.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucien sighed, before Rhys, clearly done with him, slammed the door shut.

Lucien turned on his heel, frustration burning in his chest. But as he looked up, his heart nearly stopped—there, standing at the edge of the pathway, was Elain. She wore her winter cloak, a basket in her hands, her wide, curious eyes meeting his.

He quickly composed himself, offering a polite nod. “Good evening, lady.”

“Sir,” she replied softly, dipping into a slight curtsy.

His gaze flicked to the basket. “Do you need help carrying that in?” The offer slipped out before he could stop himself, his manners seizing the chance to prolong their conversation.

“No, sir,” Elain answered with a small smile. “But thank you for the offer.”

He fought to keep his frustration in check, pushing through his awkwardness. “Did you, by any chance, see a fox messenger?” he asked, attempting nonchalance.

“I did,” she said, and for a moment, Lucien’s heart lifted. Maybe—just maybe—the fox had delivered the letter to her. Perhaps he could even ask for it back, claiming it was meant for Rhys.

But before he could say another word, she added, “It delivered its one letter to Rhys.”

His chest tightened, but he kept his expression neutral, a strained smile tugging at his lips. He was tempted to ask if the fox had delivered any other letters, if perhaps she had received one herself—but the thought of her asking why a fox might bring her a letter from him made his cheeks warm.

“Of course,” he muttered, attempting to brush it off. “Well, I hope it entertained you.”

A small smile flickered across her face, her eyes sparking with amusement. “It did. It… danced.”

“I heard they do. I’m glad you were able to witness it.”

Their eyes met, lingering a moment longer than was proper. Lucien’s pulse quickened as he fought the urge to say something more, to close the unspoken distance between them. He could feel it—their mating bond, a faint pull between them, fragile but undeniable. It thrummed under his left rib, a constant reminder of everything they hadn’t yet acknowledged.

He wondered if she felt it too. If she sensed that quiet, insistent tug drawing them closer, as impossible to ignore as it was to act upon

But whatever words he might have spoken stayed caught in his throat.

Lucien gave a small nod, his heart sinking deeper. “Good night, lady,” he said, bowing once more, even as the ache of unfulfilled words lingered between them.

“You as well, sir,” she replied, curtsying again, before slipping past him, avoiding his gaze.

As he walked away, the weight of what could have happened lingered heavily in his chest. He had no time to dwell on it now. He still had to return to the Winter Court.

He took his time getting back, using a combination of winnows and sprints. When he finally arrived at the palace, he braced himself for the inevitable fussing from Viviane and Kallias, as well as the curious looks from the rest of the Winter Court.

The evening passed in a blur of courtiers’ questions and discussions of court relations, but Lucien’s mind kept drifting. He clung to the faint hope that the fox, realizing its task was incomplete, might return to him. After all, the envelope had no addressee—it could still come back. The fox, clever as it was, might get agitated over an unfinished job.

At least, that’s what Lucien kept telling himself.

Despite his wandering thoughts, he managed to enjoy the gathering, the elderberry wine flowing freely and loosening the tongues of those closest to Viviane and Kallias. They offered insights that made Lucien think Rhys might finally secure an agreement—something to soothe the tension. But once the night drew to a close, Lucien found himself alone, still thoroughly convinced that the fox was out there, somewhere, trying to find the intended recipient of the second letter.

He decided to head to the birchin, hoping the steam and solitude might help him relax. He let the warmth ease his tension as he recalled his exchange with Rhys and Elain. Well, now that he had told Rhys he wasn’t done with the report, he figured he might as well make good on that claim. Filling a page with gossip wouldn’t hurt, and the wine had provided plenty of material to work with.

When he was done, Lucien penned the second half of his “report,” including a few rumors about Autumn and Day Courts and a playful mention of Viviane’s tipsy admiration of Night Court decorum. For a moment, he thought about writing another letter to Elain, filling her in on the evening’s events, but decided against it. Given what had happened earlier, he didn’t want to tempt fate.

Just as he was finishing up, the same white fox materialized out of thin air, its eyes narrowing at Lucien with something close to scrutiny.

Lucien sighed. “Well?” he asked, voice tinged with frustration. “Where’s the other letter?”

The fox tilted its head, then threw its head back and gekkered again. Lucien’s patience wore thin as the fox started its usual dance, hopping from side to side, its bushy tail swishing in rhythm.

Lucien rubbed his temples. “I don’t speak fox,” he muttered under his breath.

The fox sat down, flicking its tail over its snout in what Lucien swore was a demure gesture—if a fox could be demure.

Lucien threw up his hands. “Whatever,” he muttered. He grabbed the newly penned letter to Rhys and handed it to the fox, eyeing it with suspicion. “I trust you’ll get this to him.”

The fox sniffed the letter, then looked up at him, impatience glinting in its eyes.

“That’s it,” Lucien said firmly.

The fox blinked, clearly unimpressed, then sat down, fixing him with a steady, expectant gaze—as if waiting for Lucien to hand over a second letter. Preferably one addressed to Elain.

Lucien narrowed his eyes, tapping his foot in some kind of stubborn standoff. “I don’t have another letter for you to deliver,” he said through gritted teeth.

The fox’s ears flicked, unconvinced. It stayed rooted to the spot, gaze unwavering, as if daring him to cave.

Lucien exhaled sharply. “I am not about to embarrass myself in front of my mate just because you want…” He trailed off, a sudden thought striking him. “Wait… did you actually deliver my second letter to someone?”

The fox responded with a sharp gekker, its eyes glinting with what looked suspiciously like amusement. Lucien could only grumble in defeat.

Without another sound, the fox spun around, tail swishing as it darted out of sight, the letter for Rhys secured in its vest.

Lucien watched the fox disappear, no longer finding the creature cute or endearing. He stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, wondering just how much dignity he’d lost to a laughing fox. With a heavy sigh, he removed his clothes and climbed into bed, but his mind still lingered on that damned letter to Elain. Surely it wouldn’t turn up somewhere it shouldn’t. Like with Eris.

He tried to shove the thought aside, but the unease settled over him like a second skin.

As sleep tugged at him, the last thing on his mind wasn’t court politics or trade agreements. It was Elain, bending over to greet the white fox with a gleeful smile on her face. The fox would dance for her, chasing its tail in circles before bowing low and—Mother above—she’d procure a letter for him.

Lucien’s eyes snapped open as dawn filtered through the curtains. He blinked groggily, only to find the fox perched on top of him, its tail swishing in lazy arcs.

“Can I help you?” Lucien grumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

The fox glanced down at its vest, then dropped something square onto Lucien’s face. The soft lilac paper brushed against his nose, bringing with it a familiar scent.

Jasmine. With honey.

Alarm jolted him awake. He sat up, fingers trembling slightly as he grasped the letter. The penmanship was neat and feminine, with a looping elegance that sent his heart racing.

Elain’s handwriting.

He needed tea. No—he needed time. Instead, he paced, his thoughts spiraling into panic. What had Elain written? His mind leapt to the worst possibilities.

Leave me alone.Creep.Please don’t ever write to me again.Please, sir, don’t ever write to me again.

The fox, now curled comfortably on his bed, watched him with half-lidded eyes, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“Let me guess,” Lucien muttered dryly. “You’re not leaving until I read the letter?”

The fox stretched luxuriously, before coiling back up, settling in for a nap. Its eyes closing as though to say, You’ll get no peace until you do. Lucien sighed and sat down beside it, scratching behind its ears absentmindedly. The fox whined softly, leaning into the touch as if offering comfort.

He took a deep breath and, with one last moment of hesitation, opened the letter.

Dearest Lucien,

At least, that’s how I would have hoped you’d start your letter, though I suppose it was never truly meant for my eyes. I apologize for not mentioning that the fox delivered a letter to me first, before delivering your missive to Lord Rhysand. It’s been so long since I’ve received a letter of any kind, and I must admit, it was a welcome surprise. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.

The Winter Court sounds beautiful. I looked into the flowers you mentioned, and I agree. It would be wonderful to see blooms during the Night Court’s winter. I imagine it might be too cold for me to tend to, as I must confess, I quite detest being cold. But still, the idea of something blooming in a place where it otherwise wouldn’t… there’s a certain magic in that, isn’t there? A bit of unexpected life in the midst of all that frost.

As for your conundrum with Lord Kallias and Lady Viviane…

Lucien snorted at the way she underlined their titles.

…Perhaps a change of perspective is what they need. I’m not sure if you know this, since you weren’t there last year, but …

Lucien frowned at that, puzzled by what she meant to imply.

… Starfall is a celebration of those who have passed. Perhaps such a celebration could bring some solace to Lord Kallias and Lady Viviane, serving as both a way to honor the lives lost and to celebrate Lord Kallias’s survival. It might also help Lord Kallias understand that Lord Rhysand deemed his life worth saving because they both share an understanding of the value of life. By saving Lord Kallias, the cost was the children, but it was with the hope that Lord Kallias could save more lives than were lost.

I enjoy reading about your experience at the Winter Court. It reminds me of the letters Papa used to send me when he traveled for business—how he always promised to bring me along one day so I could see the world through his eyes. Your letter brought back those same feelings of comfort, something I didn’t realize I had forgotten. Thank you for reminding me of the little things he did.

If you have the time, I would love to hear more about your adventures and offer advice where I can. Perhaps Lord Rhysand and Feyre might even allow me to be of some use to the court, if you believe I could be helpful.

Lucien’s breath caught at the last few lines.

Yours very respectfully,E(lain)

P.S. Just in case you were expecting another person whose name begins with the letter E to sign off.

For a moment, he let the words sink in. Not just the content, but the tone—the gentle curiosity, the offer of help, the nostalgia that mirrored his own. He hadn’t expected... this. He had braced for rejection, for polite dismissal, for indifference. Instead, Elain had written something thoughtful, almost kind.

The fox shifted beside him, giving a satisfied little stretch, clearly sensing the change in Lucien’s mood. He glanced down at the creature, then back at the letter, running a thumb over the edge of the parchment.

“Well,” Lucien murmured softly, more to himself than the fox. “I suppose I owe you an apology for doubting you.”

The fox blinked slowly, resting its head on its paws as if to say, I told you so.

Lucien chuckled, shaking his head as he scratched behind its ears. The fox gave a low, contented hum, clearly pleased with itself. But Lucien’s thoughts were still circling Elain’s letter. He hadn’t expected it to be so... pleasant. It had soothed him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and that left him feeling oddly light.

He narrowed his eyes at the fox, realization dawning. “No wonder you looked so demure when I asked about the other letter.”

The fox let out a high-pitched gekker, tail swishing with satisfaction. Lucien paused, but then—a faint sound echoed through his mind, like the softest of giggles. Elain’s laughter, light and amused.

For a heartbeat, Lucien froze, unsure if he’d imagined it. But the fox gave him a knowing look, its eyes gleaming with mischief.

Lucien sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m surrounded by tricksters,” he muttered as a small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

[bilestat]

Re: wisdom teeth removal! I got all four taken out about a month ago. Because I didn't know what to expect since no one I knew had them out recently, here's what my experience was like! Hope this is helpful! Search "face ice pack" on Amazon and get one. I also got a few extra ice packs so I could switch them out as needed. That thing was a life saver and kept my swelling fully down. I wore it on and off basically whenever I was awake. I lived on protein shakes, squeezy applesauce packets and oatmeal for a while (but oh god please heed the tags on that post don't fully be like me) until I felt like I could move on to things like mac and cheese/ other noodles. Pudding, ice cream and mashed potatoes were also in the rotation for that first week or so. I was also fully sedated for my procedure. 10/10 recommend even though I didn't get any of the fun anesthesia side effects... it actually made me sick right after I woke up but I was fine after that. Still would recommend because the last thing I remember before the procedure was saying "I don't feel anything yet" and then I was waking up. The painkillers they gave me for after also made me sick so I ended up just taking the extra strength ibuprofen they gave me. My jaw hurt for like 10 days after the surgery and that's pretty normal. You DO need to be careful about dry socket but if you follow the rules they give you when they send you home you should be good. The weirdest thing about that was that my front teeth would hurt, too. I got some Orajel and that helped with the other miscellaneous tooth pain I was having.

Good luck and I hope at least some of this is helpful! haha

first of all you're so sweet for sending me all of this, i really appreciate it 🥺💖

i will DEFINITELY be getting one of those icepacks, thank you!! i've been reading a bit about recovery from it but am so grateful to hear your experience!! and yeah omg i'm definitely gonna get them to knock me out, idk how anyone can do that with local anaesthesia, i have really bad anxiety and even regular fillings with local anaesthesia make me super nervous the entire time 😭 i'm definitely gonna try to manage on just ibuprofen too, i really don't want to take anything harder than that

i'm so sorry it hurt for ten whole days!! but i'm glad that you're through it now <3

[2bu]

im sorry but am i supposed to know who sent this lmao

edit: btw if this is anyone who i think it could be i think it's weird and hypocritical for you to continue to perpetuate stalker behavior towards me despite me making my own boundaries /very/ clear, especially if you've found yourself blocked by me. crazy how you guys continue to treat me this way and continue to assert that I'm the bad guy 👍🏼

[ssreeder]

Hey, you, jet lover

https://www.tumblr.com/erisenyo/716246320813359104

This is a formal submission for you to AT LEAST bully jet in the fic, if you're not going to kill him. I mean, look tñat those eyebrows, he deserves to be bullied

-Fragile heart

If I could change my URL to Jet lover I would. I adore that fucking crazy guy & idc who knows!

& your formal submission is noted but I also think Ara beat you to it in RIA:

She waved her hand around Jet like she was swatting away a swarm of flies. “You and your stupid smile, and your weird eyebrows. I am not interested in you… You’re like twelve.”

But who knows, there could always be more ;)

Love you FHA!

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

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ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

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ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend doesn’t like it when you eat unhealthy food while busy with uni work.

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff. age gap (reader around early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). behavior may come off as ‘overprotective’ to some. nicknames ‘baby, sweetheart, princess’. not proofread

satoru’s at work while you’re in his kitchen, preparing a quick meal for yourself. you’ve been busy making and finishing assignments all day. you really could do with a break. though, a short one. there’s still lots more to do before you’re done with everything mandatory.

it’s convenient that satoru allows you to stay over at his apartment whenever you want to. he’s given you a spare key and told you that his home is also yours. if you need a break from your own place, you can always stop by his.

“ah, crap,” you hiss as the sauce packet nearly bursts open in your hand due to how roughly you pulled on its edges. you season your instant ramen noodles without much thought. it’s a quick meal that saves you time.

you’ve had it four days a row now—along with some pizza slices here and there. your boyfriend has been nice enough to send you money, telling you to treat yourself to some decent food while he’s away on business, but you’re really just too busy to treat yourself.

satoru’d be upset if he knew that you’re living off unhealthy crap again. the last time he caught you, he prepared you homemade meals or took you out to restaurants for weeks. he needs you to ingest your daily nutritions so you can stay healthy. you’re too important to him and he wants the best for you.

you grab your chopsticks and mix the sauce with the noodles, your spotify playlist running in the background. you walk to the fridge and grab a soda before sitting down at the kitchen table. unlocking your phone, you decide to see if anything’s going on on social media.

you’re too focused on your screen and the food entering your mouth to notice the front door opening. you catch a glimpse of a figure in the corner of your eye and your head flies up. a bit too late..

“ah, hi, satoru,” you mumble with a mouthful of ramen noodles. you’re caught off guard and you barely know what to do as the white-haired man puts his keys in his pockets. you put your phone down and discreetly try to cover your bowl, “didn’t know you’d come back so early.”

too bad you didn’t think of opening a window or throwing away the opened package of instant ramen. satoru looks over at the messy counter before walking towards you. he reaches a hand out to your cheek, brushing your thumb against your skin.

“hi, pretty,” satoru greets you with a gentle smile. he leans down and presses a kiss onto your lips, tongue stealing a taste of the sauce on your mouth. he pulls back and pinches the cheek he’s holding, “mind telling me what you’re eating, hm?”

you pout and swallow the bite of noodles you had in your mouth. you put your hands down, knowing there’s no hiding anything from your boyfriend. he dislikes the fact that you’re not taking your health seriously. “instant ramen. . .” you respond defeatedly.

satoru ruffles your hair with a shake of his head, silently disapproving of your actions. “i’ve given you money to get a proper meal, didn’t i, baby?” the older man explains in the same tender tone. he doesn’t have the heart to be mad at you. he crouches down next to the chair you’re sitting on and kisses your knuckles, each getting a peck.

“yeah, ‘m sorry,” you nod, knowing your lover did his part of taking care of you. he gave you money to spend on food or ingredients, but you still chose the easy way out. it’s not like you’ve been craving noodles—you’re eating them for the sole reason being that they’re fast and easy to make. you’re too busy (and lazy) to go out and buy stuff.

satoru chuckles, not really mad at you at all. he’s simply worried for your wellbeing. he sees how hard you work for uni while also making time to spend with him, no matter how little it may be. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead before getting up.

the sorcerer looks down at the bowl of noodles before glancing back at you. “do you want to finish it or do you want me to make you something?” he asks whilst playing with the little hairs around your face. you’re beautiful, somehow even more gorgeous with those dark circles under your eyes.

you pout and think about his question. you’re tired of eating the same thing four times in a row and you know how good satoru’s cooking can be, so. . .

“can you make me something?” you ask carefully in a quiet tone, flashing your boyfriend your best puppy eyes, “pretty please?”

satoru grins and nods immediately. he’s always happy to help you out when you need it. “of course. anything for my princess,” he coos and squeezes your cheeks one last time. he’s got an obsession with the way you scrunch your nose up every time he does so.

he grabs the bowl of noodles and puts it away after making sure you didn’t want any more of it. sure, he wants the best for you, but he doesn’t want to be too restrictive. in case you still want to steal a bit, satoru puts the bowl in the corner of the counter.

you walk to satoru as he stands near the fridge. you rub your weary eyes and watch as he grabs the needed items to make your favorite comfort meal. he catches you staring at him and he smirks lovingly.

“oh my, i have such an adorable girlfriend,” the older man holds himself back from squeezing your cheeks together again. he holds your wrist and pulls you flush against him, his head leaning down to match your eye level.

satoru plants a quick kiss on your lips. his hand finds it way on your hips before slithering upwards. he pats your back, gently comforting and encouraging you, his other hand doing the same on the back of your head. he knows how hard it is for you these days, with the busy end of the semester and all.

“love you, ‘toru, thank you,” you smile at him and nuzzle your face into his chest. you really needed a distraction from all the hard work you still have to do. a quick break with the person you cherish most will gain you back all the energy you’ve lost.

satoru hugs you even tighter to him when you utter those magical words. if he could, he’d take care of you every single second of the day. he’d do anything to make you feel better. he places a peck to your forehead, “i love you too, sweetheart. but promise me one thing; please take better care of yourself, ‘kay?”

[rumisgf]

❝ YOUR BEST EATER ! ❞ ╰┈➤ AOT EDITION

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: rating how well aot men would eat you out ! (this is canon because i said so)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: eren yeager, onyankopon, connie springer, jean kirstein, armin arlert

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: smut of course, crack, cursing, oral f!receiving, mentions of squirting, cum play if you squint, black!reader

EREN YEAGER - 7/10

✮ now i know y’all remember that one ao3 fic with the tongue piercing that went viral…

✮ yeah that was propaganda

✮ now listen listen— i’ll give him his flowers and he is good in bed

✮ but giving head isn’t his specialty

✮ BUTTTTT when he does eat you out, he makes you cum every time

✮ he spits on it :)

✮ in general his speciality? good dick

✮ he’ll eat you before he fucks you, but he can’t last too long cause the sight of you dripping has him rock hard

✮ one time you squirted while he gave you head and he swears he almost came in his pants

“so fuckin’ wet…”

“m-mm~!”

“jus’ a lil longer baby… need you nice and ready for my dick..”

ARMIN ARLERT - 8/10

✮ now him? head is definitely his forte

✮ there’s times he won’t even fuck you he just wants to taste you

✮ he whines.

✮ the vibrations of him moaning on your clit definitely sends chills down your spine

✮ and please, sit on his face

✮ he genuinely gets so pussy drunk and he stopped caring

✮ he just needs to taste you

✮ the feeling of you dripping on his face is addictive to him

✮ he just loves when you’re on top— whether it’s on his dick or his face

“please baby…need to taste you..”

“mhm? lay down for me then.”

JEAN KIRSTEIN - 6/10

✮ don’t shoot me i’m just the messenger

✮ i just feel like he would be too… rough… at first

✮ he generally likes rough sex so it’s just natural instinct to him

✮ butttt, when he does get the hang of it, it does feel good

✮ he just needed some practice

✮ he is good listener, i’ll give props for that

✮ the head is never terrible but he just can’t help but to wanna torment you a little it’s his favorite hobby

✮ he bit your clit once though. you had to smack him for that.

✮ he makes up for it though because the D is FIREEEE🔥🔥🔥!

“o-ow…jean wait..”

“sorry baby, got a little carried away…tell me how you want it, yeah?”

CONNIE SPRINGER - ♾️/10

✮ HE’S AN EATER!!!!

✮ he might as well tattoo ‘proud munch’ on his lip atp

✮ this man has skills that you have never seen before and he will have you whipped from how much you cream and squirt every time he goes down on you

✮ he’s so mean too… but in the best way possible

✮ you have an attitude? he’s eating it. you stressed? he’s eating it. you look good? he’s eating it.

✮ he doesn’t even have to spit on it with how wet you get

✮ he’ll eat it with your legs bent to your ears, from the side, from the back, on his knees, have you sit on his face, all that.

✮ he eats it before he puts it in by the way.

✮ and after. he’s nasty.

“ohmy- fuckkk~”

“i know baby, stay still… i’m not done witchu..”

ONYANKOPON - 9/10

✮ he just likes making you feel good

✮ he takes foreplay very seriously, so he likes taking his time with you

✮ he’ll definitely overstimulate you though, he thinks it’s fun

✮ he likes when you squirm it only turns him on more

✮ in contrary, he’s very sweet with it and does it to make you feel his love

✮ definitely big on body worship

✮ he’ll start off slow and massage your thighs while he tastes you

✮ his favorite thing is licking you clean after he already made you cum on his dick or with his fingers

“mmm~.. baby..”

“so pretty like this..just keep moaning f’ me..”

© rumisgf

[vngelicc]

⊹₊ ⋆ “They can't deny our love, they can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time, I promise I'll be right here, standing next to you,”

TAGS — drunk sex, dirty talkin’, jk’s a pervy mess, oc is smitten this time round bc she’s soft, unprotected sex, creampies, oc rides it nice n good before jk pounds her, tit play(?) not much, anGSTY, like full on crying bro, making out, like a lot, oc n jk go on a date, THERE IS PLOT THIS TIME, mentioned shower sex, messy sex, oc’s got that creamy puss—, soft ;( , sleazy baby daddy au!

WORD COUNT — 6.9 k

The day started out like any other: you woke up, dressed Jiho for school following your usual routine of heading to the gym after dropping your baby off. From there you headed to the office to catch up on unfinished projects, a meeting or two slipped into your schedule but nothing too crazy. You manage to squeeze in a small break at home before having to go and get Jiho.

It’s a Friday and you realize that you don’t have much planned for the day or weekend so you decide on dropping off Jiho at your moms and enjoying a weekend of solitude to yourself. You’re practically daydreaming about taking the biggest nap of your life after this, hell maybe you can finally taste that new wine you recently bought. You practically buzz with excitement on the way, and back home.

Unfortunately life had a funny way of working sometimes.

“Hello?” You sigh deeply whilst pacing back and forth. It was just your luck that your car decided to be a pain in the ass by breaking down on the side of the road. Now you’re stranded outside of the city after dropping off Jiho.

“Baby? What’s up, somethin’ wrong?” Jungkook replies, you can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, “You callin’ cause you miss my dick–”

“No dipshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance, “I got left stranded after dropping Jiho with my mom, car gave out on me and now I’m stuck outside the city kinda.” You look around, “Can you come help me out please?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes top. Did you call the tow truck or nah? If you didn’t I can call while I’m on my way.”

You sigh in relief, “No I didn’t, but call your one friend. I’ll send you the location right now, bye.” You hang up and quickly send him your location. There isn’t really much to do so you sit back and scroll through your social medias to pass the time. Jungkook stays true to his word though and shows up in twenty minutes like he had promised. He’s not in his car though because today he’s brought his motorcycle.

“Hey.” You greet calmly and step out of your car. You make your way over to him, coming to a stop in front of his bike with your arms folded over your chest. You would rather not admit to anything (at least out loud) but he looks pretty hot, you can see his unruly hair underneath his helmet.

Jungkook slips his helmet off and shakes his hair out of his face, “Hi baby,” he grins, “so what happened here, hm?” He talks to you like he’s talking to a toddler, all teasing and shit. You don’t bother hiding your annoyance as you roll your eyes, making him laugh, “Alright, alright, but seriously what happened mama?” He leans over to bring you into his side, landing an obnoxious wet smooch over your lips.

You scrunch your face up and nod your head in the direction of the car, “Stopped out of nowhere, turned off and everything.”

He looks over at it and hums, “Pop the hood for me, gonna give it a look before Eunwoo comes.” He lets you go and rounds the front of the car, giving you a thumbs up to pop the hood up for him.

It unlocks and Jungkook opens it up leaning over the car with quiet “tch, tch, tch” noises as he tries to see what was wrong with it. You step out to watch him closely, trying to ignore how good he looks in a white wife beater with his arms and tattoos all out. Jungkook doesn’t even have to try when it comes to getting you hot and bothered.

“Shit babe,” Jungkook hisses and recoils, “you need to get the oil changed, ‘s fuckin burned and dried out. Top of that, I think the battery is either old or it just needs a charge.” He shakes his head with a grimace.

You sigh in relief, happy that it wasn’t anything major, “I’ll get it checked out at the shop then,” you help him slam the hood closed, “thanks.”

“Mm,” he leans against the car staring down at you, “need a ride back home?” He licks his lips, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s checking you out in broad daylight with that lecherous look in his eyes.

You nod, “Please, it’s finally my day off and this happens.” You chuckle bitterly and kick a rock, “Was looking forward to a nap, guess that won’t be happening.”

“Hm, I know a way we could pass the time..” He slides his hand around your waist, teasingly pulling at the belt loop of your jeans, “I can make you forget ‘bout all this mess mama.” He says in a low tone, “Just say the word..”

You bring him close with a hand around the back of his neck, lips inches away and eyes full of lust. “You’re so cute,” you softly breathe out as his eyes light up with arousal, “but no.” You pinch his arm extra hard, listening in satisfaction when he cries out in pain, “I’m not fucking you on the side of the road. Especially since Eunwoo might be close by, yeah no thanks.” You snort.

“Ow you fucking hurt me.” Jungkook hisses, “You left a mark! Look at that!” He thrusts his arm out to show the red mark you left, “Kiss it better.” He huffs quietly and eyes you expectantly.

You look back at him with a blank stare, “No,” you step to the side and look out for the tow truck, “last I checked I’m not the one responsible for kissing boo-boos,” you fold your arms over your chest, “you’re a grown ass man deal with it.”

Jungkook quietly laughs under his breath, “No you’re right—I can give you something else to kiss better.” He dodges your hand, laughing loudly while ignoring the colorful words you spew at him, “C’mon it was a little funny.”

“No it wasn’t,” you hiss while smacking his arm, “you’re so fuckin’ dumb Jungkook.” You try hard to fight off the chuckle stuck in your throat, “Oh my god.” You turn away, shoulders shaking as you quietly laugh to yourself.

Jungkook comes behind you to pull you into his chest while swaying side to side with you, “C’mere,” he leans down to kiss the side of your face, “go out for dinner with me, saw a new place open up and it has a lot of your favorites.” He murmurs in your ear.

“Yeah?’ You reply softly, “Where is it?”

“Gangnam,” Jungkook curtly replies while burying his face into your shoulder, “you down for some fun?”

You haven’t been out since your last girls trip to Jeju and that was like two months ago. Fuck it—you think—it’s friday and you don’t have to worry about work till tuesday. With Jiho being out for the weekend you guess you can unwind too. Plus Jungkook could be fun to be around with..sometimes. You won’t ever admit it though, what Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Okay, sounds good. You need to drop me off at my apartment though, gotta get ready ‘n stuff.” You see the tow truck pulling into the side of the road, “C’mon, your friend’s here.” You pull away and start walking towards your car.

In the end Jungkook takes you to his apartment to get ready, he literally has you packing a overnight bag with everything you could possibly need for a weekend stay. You don’t even know why you agree to staying the weekend with him but Jungkook says something about Gangnam being close to his place and how he’d probably not be able to drive you back home if you two end up finishing late at night. You know it’s not that though, but you don’t have the heart to call him out for it.

“Lace,” Jungkook smirks as he looks at the underwear you dropped on his bed after opening up your bag, “red too, damn this for me mama?” He dangles the cheeky pair of panties up in the air.

You hum in response, not really focused on him because you’re trying to fix your grinder, “Gonna pregame or what?” You finally say after getting it to work, “Or you too old Jeon?” You stick your tongue out with a smirk while adding in some bud.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Babe you trying to get me cross-faded? Fuck I don’t even think I’ve pregamed in a while, don’t wanna get shit-faced just yet though,” he scratches his nose, “so shots? We both need to remember our livers don’t work like they used to.”

“Yeah, yeah hold on.. let me finish real quick.” You mumble to yourself. The blunt hangs from your lips when you finish rolling it, old habits die hard you guessed when you go around picking up Jungkook’s clothes off the ground. You go around cleaning a little bit of his room before heading into his bathroom to start the water.

You and Jungkook smoke about half of the blunt together before taking a shot, which you end up pulling a face at and shaking your head, “Fuck I haven’t drank this shit since college,” you wipe your lips, “ugh, I’m gonna go shower. Bleh,” you try to get the bitter taste out of your mouth while disappearing into his bathroom.

Of course Jungkook doesn’t leave you alone as he follows you into the shower. By the time you’re both out there’s only a hour left before you two have to head out, “Babe I invited Hoseok and Yoongi if that’s cool with you,” he says loudly from inside the walk-in closet, “Yoongi said something about him and your one friend going together.”

“Who Hyejin?” You try to reply while lining your lips, “She’s the one who texted me like ten minutes ago,” you smack your lips together, “or is it someone else?”

Jungkook comes out wearing a black blazer over a white top, “Uhh I think?” He passes by with a cheeky ass grab, “ready for another shot?” He heads out to bring back the bottle, “Or you going to drink from the bottle?” He smirks lazily, you both end up taking a swig from the bottle.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You pull one of Jungkook’s black leather jackets over your body, “I don’t care if you only had one drink or no drinks, we’re both walking or getting a ride got it? I don’t wanna hear you complaining about having to leave the car overnight,” you sternly say to him as you both head out together, “I’m not trying to die in the middle of fuckin’ fall, ‘s freezing tonight.” You shiver a little.

Jungkook snorts, “Babe I’m a little cross-faded, but it’ll go away I promise-” he stops himself from finishing his sentence when he sees the glare you’re sending his way, “okay, okay, fine we’re gonna catch a ride home.” He winds his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closely, “Nice little date night isn’t it?”

You snort quietly and look up at him in amusement, “Date? Ew, as if. We haven’t been on one of those in ages.”

“Don’t be such a little party pooper, first date and you’re already complaining? I’m hurt baby,” Jungkook holds the lobby door open for you, smacking your ass when you slip past him, “just wait and see, ‘m gonna make this the best night ever.”

His words make you roll your eyes, “Sure.” You’re secretly endeared though, and you can’t help but wonder what has you so soft with him today. Usually you found it annoying when he said corny/sappy shit but for some reason it’s cute? Maybe you really were in a good mood.

.

“Well don’t you look pretty,” Hyejin grins as she slips her arm around you waist, “you lil’ fuckin floozy, you fucked him didn’t you?” She laughs softly, “Look at all the marks, fuck lemme see,” she tries to take a peek into your dress.

“Hyejin,” you hiss while pushing her off of you, “you’re gonna show my entire tit to everyone around, stop.” You quietly laugh, “And for your information we didn’t go all the way because I didn’t let him, he only ate me out I swear.” You whisper into her ear, jumping in alarm and rushing to cover her mouth when she yells out loud.

She winks at you deviously before going back to her seat next to Yoongi. It’s nice being with friends like this, plus the restaurant was everything you hoped for. The vibes and atmosphere were pleasant, it was kinda reminding you of your college days when you and your friends stayed out late. It brings a tiny smile to your face.

“So how you been y/n?” Hoseok speaks up, “Felt like I haven’t seen you in forever.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, eyes taking in the way you’re both sitting so close.

“Been good, just working nothing too crazy, how bout you?” You nod your head at him, “Still doing that thing you told me about—fuck I keep forgetting what it was—but yea, you still doing that or..?”

Hoseok sips his beer with a nod, “Yeah,” he notices the way Jungkook’s hand tightens around your shoulder, “ ‘s gotten busier but business is good so I can’t complain you know?” He sheepishly smiles.

You briefly look over at Jungkook to see he’s got his tongue poking the inside of his cheek—the thing he does when he’s either angry or bothered—you’re not so sure why he’s pissy but you don’t dwell on it, “That’s good, let me know how it goes though. Can’t say I’m not interested from what you told me.” You feel Jungkook squeeze your arm, releasing it after a couple of seconds and then going back to stroking his hand up and down.

You both stay huddled close the rest of the night, Jungkook keeps his hand over your thigh and you have your head against his shoulder. The night only gets wilder as the restaurant turns into a full party with people singing and enjoying the loud music, Hoseok orders shots for everyone and by the time you check your phone to see that it’s one in the morning you’ve already lost count of how many drinks both you and Jungkook had.

“Another shot or what? You said you could out drink me, I wanna see your ass try,” Yoongi hiccups while sending you a glare, you notice that Hyejin’s already passed out with her face buried in his neck.

You grunt in annoyance and push at Jungkook’s arm, “Didn’t say, I know I can.” You rumble back and manage to take the shot, “Now you asshole.” You nod your head, “Hurry up Yoongi, you’re getting old or what?” You snicker.

He makes a face and manages to down it, “Fuckin’ hell, so nasty.” He shakes his head, “We’re too old to be doing this shit, fuckin’ Hoseok tapped out on the third shot! Look at his ass, he’s not waking up anytime soon.” He groans.

“Yeah I think I’m done too, getting so fuckin dizzy,” Jungkook sighs and looks over at you, “ready to tap out too baby?” He hums as he leans in to rest his face in your shoulder.

You nod slowly, “Yeah, my head hurts too.” You sigh deeply and wave the waitress down. Yoongi generously closes the entire tab and heads out with Hyejin and Hoseok to wait for a taxi. You and Jungkook take a couple of minutes to gather your thoughts before heading out to follow them.

You stick around outside to make sure that Yoongi, Hyejin, and Hoseok get into the uber together before heading back to Jungkook’s. It feels a lot warmer walking hand in hand with him, you find yourself grinning like a idiot, “Hey Jungkook,”

“Hm?” Jungkook stops to look at you.

“Does that playground by your house still have that one swing where two people can go on it together?” You smile.

He blinks a couple of times in confusion before a knowing smile crosses over his face, “Yeah, it does.” He squeezes your hand.

You both end up giggling like children while swinging around in the air on opposite sides facing each other. You squeal when Jungkook pushes you both extra hard, causing you to swing a bit faster as you land on the ground and huff with effort to push the two of you. “Fuck I haven’t done this much workout since Jiho joined soccer,” you chuckle.

Jungkook huffs quietly, hot breath going foggy in front of his mouth showing just how cold it was. “Fucking freezing, gonna get blisters from this shit babe.” He swings you both once more, smiling brightly when he hears you squeal again, “Shit you look like you’re having more fun than I am.”

“Cause I am,” you grin softly and let go of the handles, “but fuck you’re right, my hands hurt and they smell like iron.” You wait for Jungkook so that you two could go inside since the cold weather was starting to get to you. “C’mon I’m cold.” You purse your lips and shove your hands into your pockets.

Jungkook quickly follows after you. You both manage to get in, stumbling over each other with giggles and drunken jokes. Jungkook doesn’t make it before he’s crashing on the floor, sending you into hysterics as you bend over clutching your knees laughing. “Babe help me up!” Jungkook whines.

“H-Hold on,” you wipe your tears, “c’mere.” You haul his ass up, giggling hysterically at his messed up hair.

“And what you laughin’ at hm?” Jungkook wraps his arms around you and tugs you close, “C’mon tell me,” he whines and leans down to slide his lips over yours. Immediately you lean into the kiss, deepening it as you slip a hand over his cheek and cup it gently. His lips move over your own, gliding gently and slotting perfectly over your own.

Jungkook crowds you into the wall as he tries backing you into the living room causing you both to stumble. You don’t seperate from the kiss though even after almost falling back because you’re both tripping over something laying on the ground. Jungkook pulls back briefly, chuckling drunkly when he sees you’re both not in the living room, in fact you’re both heading towards his kitchen.

“Babe,” he softly mumbles as he caresses your cheek, “hol’ on, move that way.” He smothers you in another hot kiss, refusing to part even for a second.

You grumble softly into the kiss and pull away, “Can’t,” you mumble and let him kiss you again, “you’re kissin’ me and I can’t see where I’m goin.” You have a dopey smile on your face, “Lemme,” pause. “lemme take you to bed,” you slur out.

Jungkook nods eagerly and follows after you. His hands are impatient as he works his jacket off of you, he growls in frustration when he can’t quite get you out of the pretty dress you wore tonight. “Fuckin’ hell help me,” he pouts and kicks the door open, “can’t get it off, need to see you naked,” he giggles, “c’mon, help me.” He gives you puppy eyes.

“Paws off,” you growl playfully while stripping from your dress, “I got this.” You send him a pointed look and head over to his large comfy bed. You let yourself fall dramatically on it, arms and legs spread out like you’re a starfish or something.

Jungkook climbs over you a few seconds later, you notice he’s already shirtless as he grins softly down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, “Hi baby.” He whispers softly between the two of you. You giggle quietly and smile back at him with a ‘hi’, he looks funny. The world around you spins in endless circles, fueling your dizziness and motion sickness.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, “best baby mama ever.” He leans down, mouth hovering over your neck as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over the warm flesh. You sigh quietly and lean into his touch feeling all warm inside from how endearing he was being.

“More.” You quietly reply, you want to hear all about how pretty you are to him. You’d never openly admit but Jungkook makes you feel special with the way he’s obsessed with you. On the surface he sure as hell was a dirty sleazy pervert but you knew he was genuine with you, even if his words were a little crude and unsavory at times.

Jungkook hums, “More what baby?” He softly asks while pulling back to look down at you, “Want me to touch you more?” He grins cheekily, “Coz I’m not complaining, love touchin’ and feeling on you.. So pretty,” he whispers as his eyes trail over you, “mine too..”

The ‘yours’ sits on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason it never leaves your mouth. “Stop playing around before I fall asleep,” you smack your lips with a dazed expression on your face, “then you won’t get to touch, only look.”

His eyes light up and he doesn’t say anything else, instead he captures you for a messy little kiss while his chilled hands slide down your sides and to your hips where those red panties sit. He teases you by pulling on the waistband, letting it snap back a few times before he finally pulls them down. You’re quivering in excitement, your own hands come up to unbutton his pants with ease.

Jungkook helps you shove them off, his boxers go with them two until you’re both laid bare for eachother. He lies flat over you with his chest right against yours, he takes his sweet time mapping every crevice and surface of your body. You’re not used to this time of affection in bed with him given that most of your fuckings were nasty and to the point. No, tonight’s different.

“Will never get used to how pretty you are,” he murmurs while laying kisses over your throat and chest, “just wanna keep you like this forever.” He whispers out as his hot mouth envelops a nipple.

He lays his tongue flat over your sensitive bud, lapping at it and teasing around it. Your lips part as quiet breathy sighs and moans leave you, only yelping when Jungkook fully encases your nipple with his lips wrapped around it tightly. “Fuck,” you tangle a hand in his hair and watch with hooded eyes.

Jungkook’s other hand comes up to fondle your neglected tit, pinching and rolling your hard nipple between his fingers in tandem with his powerful sucks. He switches back between both of them, leaving a small trail of spit as he goes. You don’t know how much of his teasing you can take, your cunt’s throbbing and more slick is dripping between your plush folds and down the crevice of your ass no doubt staining his sheets.

“No more,” you say when your nipples were sucked raw, “need you n’ my pussy,” you shift around and roll Jungkook on to his back, “gonna ride it, jus’ the way you like it.” You tease softly and leave a open-mouthed kiss over his mouth, sighing quietly when you feel his hot cock against your inner thigh.

“Mm,” he sighs as his head drops on the bed, eyes slipped in utter bliss as he holds your hips in his hands, “yeah—want you to ride it for me baby, wanna watch you bounce on it.” He rolls his hips upward as his cock bumps and slides against you.

You take his cock into your hand and stroke over it slowly, occasionally tapping it over your folds and smearing your slick over him. You catch sight of his dark cock, all swollen and throbbing in your hold. It makes your mouth water as you eagerly lift your hips and slip the tip between your folds until it catch over your winking hole. Both of your breath hitches as you ease him into you, hissing in pleasure as your cunt spreads around the mushroom-y tip, pink rim spreading and hugging him tightly.

Jungkook’s lips part in a long moan, he scrunches his face up in pleasure and rubs his hands over the swell of your ass cheeks. “Oh fuck baby,” he whispers, “jus’ a little more,” he groans, “fuck!” He hisses when you bottom out with a loud smack, your ass clapping off his pelvis as you seat yourself with his cock stuffed deep inside of you.

“So good,” you hum and give a few experimental rolls, just loving how deep he is from this position.

Your hands come down to settle over his chest for leverage, you don’t wait any longer before you’re bouncing idly over his cock. The excess slick begins rolling down to his balls creating a low audible squelch. Jungkook doesn’t really say much other than a few curses and whispers of your name. Your own noises come out breathy and low, constrasting the fopping sound your ass makes when it smacks against his thighs.

The bed frame begins to creak under your weight, slowly you begin speeding up until you’re full on bouncing on his cock. You ride till the tip remains inside before coming back down and slamming your hips over his. Jungkook’s grunts and moans rise in volume from the delicous pressure around his cock, your pussy grips him so tight he feels your rim hugging him almost as if you were refusing to let his cock go.

“Shit y/n,” the way your name rolls off his tongue sends butterflies deep in your tummy as you eagerly bounce, “like that, fuck it feels so fucking good, gripping me so tight,” he rolls his hips upward to meet your bounces, “oh fuck.” He throws his head back and grits his teeth.

You mewl quietly and switch from bouncing to grinding, you roll your hips back and forth over his cock and reach behind you to stroke and fondle his balls that press tightly against your ass. He moans loud and bucks his hips into you roughly, somehow punching his cock deeper with the tip kissing your cervix.

“Jungkook..!” You gasp out as your toes curl.

He brings his arms up to hoist you off and on to the bed, rolling the two of you over as he hikes a hand under your knee and lifts your leg up while he fucks into your pussy wildly. The new angle has his cock striking your g-spot over and over again with calculated thrusts. He punches loud moans and whimpers out of your lips, the pleasure bubbles over and has your pussy gripping him so tight it’s hard for him to backstroke.

“Look at me baby,” he pants, “yeah, show me that pretty face mama.. Look at you, taking my cock so well in that slutty little pussy. Got you drippin’ for me like I said you would, feel that?” He slows down and grinds into you slowly, hips circling in figure of eights as his cock rubs over your walls slowly, “See what you do to me baby? Got me all worked up for you, pussy’s suckin me in so well can’t help it.” He groans.

Your mouth falls open in a ‘o’ when he plunges into you quickly, fucking his cock in and out at a rapid pace. Slick dribbles all around with some splattering over the sheets and sliding down your pussy to your ass. His balls are heavy as they swing and smack into your ass repeatedly, every so often his cock throbs pathetically from inside of you.

“Oh god,” you whisper and throw your head back, “fuck right there Jungkook..!” You let out a shout of pleasure as he hits your g-spot over and over again without missing. He has you sliding up the bed from his brutal pace, the pleasure rising and rising as you grit your teeth and try to fight off your impending orgasm.

“Go on baby, cum for me.” Jungkook whispers, “C’mon mama, lemme see you cum all over my cock, make it nice and messy for me.” He rasps out and grips the pillow lying by your head tightly as he grits his teeth and fucks into you harder if it was possible.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, your entire body locks up as you let out a pathetic little cry of pleasure. You cum with a loud moan of his name, clinging desperately to him with your arms loosely wrapped around his back and your legs locked around him to keep his cock inside. Your cunt milks his cock for all its worth, squeezing spasmodically from the aftershock of your orgasm.

Jungkook moans low at the feeling around his cock as he slams himself deep a total of three times before he finally cums. His cock pulses, hot cum filling your pussy to the brim with some of it seeping from the sides of your cunt. He sits up to look down at the mess between you, whistling out of breath when he sees the creamy white slick smeared over his pelvis and your pussy.

“Fuck, made a fuckin’ mess.” He chuckles breathlessly and teasingly rubs his thumb over your neglected swollen clit, “Didn’t need to touch this lil thing to get you to cum.” He purrs.

Your thighs twitch and you twist around to avoid any touch to your sensitive cunt, “Stopppp,” you whine softly and bury your face in the pillow, “ ‘m so sleepy Kook,” you smack your lips and blink slowly, “bed’s dirty though..”

Jungkook brings you into his arms and sighs, “Looks like we’re sleeping in the guest bedroom.” He murmurs and rolls out of bed, “C’mon,” he holds his hand out, “let’s get you to bed mama.”

You smile shyly when he says it like that, slipping out on shaky legs and following after him.

+

“I’m never drinking like that ever again,” you quietly moan while slipping on Jungkook’s slippers and tugging the hoodie over your head, “don’t forget to bring my phone,” you say to Jungkook as you step out of the apartment.

“Got it..” He mumbles and follows after you.

You’re both obviously not in the mood for cooking or anything so Jungkook suggested the convenience store for breakfast (in this case lunch because you two slept in all morning). Jungkook walks hand in hand with you the whole way, only letting go when you both split up to get your respective items. Jungkook of course pays and helps you make both your ramen bowls while you sit by the window poking your drink and mixing it around.

“You look a hot mess,” Jungkook says when he’s walking over, “a sexy hot mess.” He cheekily adds in when you turn to give him a look. “What? I like you with smudged ass mascara and leftover lipstick, gives you that sexy bed look.” He winks.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not looking so hot either with lipstick all over your jaw.” You grin in amusement, “What did you get?”

Jungkook opens the black bag and sets all the snacks he got out onto the table, “This kimchi onigiri, uhhh sausage links, and this rolled egg thingy I don’t know.” He shrugs.

You eye the onigiri in curiosity, “Hm.” You mix your ramen around and open the seasoning packet, “Do you mind driving me to get my car? Eunwoo texted me last night saying it was gonna be ready for pick up later on, said that the battery’s charged now, he’s gonna just change the oil next.” You mumble.

“Yeah, wanna go after this? Eunwoo’s probably out on break, I can do the oil change myself.” He slurps his noodles loudly, cheekily grinning at you afterwards.

“Mm, fine with me. Just don’t fuck up my car or you’re paying for it.” You sip your drink just as loud.

.

Eunwoo doesn’t end up being there but he leaves Jungkook a key and a note telling him about what your car needs. Jungkook wastes no time in getting to work as he slips his shirt off and works in his white tank top. You sit in a chair just watching him work while singing silently under his breath. You can’t quite shake the uneasy feeling you get in your gut, all this—playing couple and pretending like nothing’s wrong.

It makes your heart twist bitterly seeing him like this, all domestic and shit. Even the night before when you guys were at dinner. Hell the playground was enough for you to realize what was going on. You’re not so sure you can go back to pretending like you two aren’t a thing after this. You can only hold it in so much before it all starts crumbling down.

“Babe,” Jungkook slips out from under the car, “pass me the funnel behind you, I already drained it.” He wipes his dusty cheek, “Babe?”

“Oh yeah, here.” You hand him the funnel, “What, do I have something on my face?” You say after noticing how intently he’s staring at you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Nah, just admiring how cute my baby mama looks.” He smiles teasingly and goes back to work before you can even reply. “So, you doing anything after this? I was kinda hoping we could spend a day in watching movies and shit, ‘m still pretty hungover.”

“Yeah..” You nod, “Sounds good I’m not feeling the greatest either,” you turn to look at anything but him. You don’t know why but you’re hit with a swirl of emotions and it’s starting to sizzle under your skin and make you irritated. The more you think about it, the more agitated you slowly become.

“Hey,” he suddenly says in front of you, “got something on your mind?” His lips hover over yours before he closes the distance between you two. The kiss is sweet and gentle, it has your poor little heart throbbing inside of your chest. Jungkook’s lips smack quietly against yours, as he brings his hands up to hold the sides of your face.

You softly hum into the kiss and bring your arms around his neck. He makes a pleased noise and caresses his thumb over your cheek and jawline. It’s the sweet moments like this that have you doubting, you’re not so sure you can keep up with him anymore. He does all these sweet things and it just lulls you into a false security with him, like everything is okay and things were the way they used to be.

You want that..

Jungkook parts from the kiss and stares deep into your eyes, “You with me baby?” He say when he takes in how distracted you look.

“Yeah,” you softly whisper, “ ‘m here.” You bring him back for another passionate kiss, this time effectively blocking out all those little voices in your head.

Jungkook grunts in surprsie as he hoists you up with him, backing you into the counter nearby and swiping all the tools clear from the surface. His breath is ragged and heavy, touch quickly becoming possessive and desperate as he paws at your thighs and hips. You part your legs for him and let him step in between them, moaning quietly when his hips press over your sore cunt.

The empty garage is filled with soft panting and breathless sighs, your lips meet Jungkook’s over and over until they’re swollen and glossed over with spit n slick. You attack his neck in a flurry of kisses and pull him closer, practically hugging his body tight to yours as the two of you leave sloppy marks all over each other. You go to leave another mark but Jungkook’s quick to pull away with a quiet ‘wait, wait’.

“Get back together with me,” he suddenly pulls back, breathless and panting with wild eyes, “I want us to be a real couple—not whatever this shit is where one day you let me love on you and another you don’t.” His eyes are filled with hope as he pleads with you.

You stare at him in shock, mostly because hello the timing? You quickly shake those thoughts out and sit up, “Jungkook you can’t just ask me that out of nowhere, especially not with you standing between my thighs.” You sigh heavily, “Let’s just talk about this some other time.” You look away.

Jungkook frowns, “No, I think it’s a perfect time now. You say some other time but then you forget and play it off with work and other stuff. I just..I just wanna know where we stand, I’m tired of doing this back and forth thing baby.. It’s sending mixed signals, can’t tell whether you really want me or you’re planning to cut me out for good.”

You’re at loss this time, for the first time regarding the breakup you don’t have anything to say. It’s not something you easily know the answer to, not when you yourself is still trying to find the answers to these things. Jungkook should know by now this isn’t something that comes so easily. “Why? So you can be happy you ended up winning after what you did? So everyone can see you got your way despite being a shitty person Jungkook?”

He looks surprised like he wasn’t expecting your response, “Baby—no, where is this coming from?” He stands up intending to comfort you because he can see how quickly you’re growing upset with the way your frown deepens and tone morphs to hurt.

“Then what is it Jungkook?” You say in exasperation, “Is this gonna be your ‘I told you so’ moment? You play me like a fucking fool and come back years later with a slap on the wrist and suddenly everything is better between the two of us?” You blink the tears away, “It’s not fucking fair and you know it.” You fold your arms over your chest.

Jungkook shakes his head, “No, no, no, it’s none of that. I just wanted you to know I’m tired of going back and forth and never ending up nowhere with us..”

“Well guess what, I’m tired too Jungkook. Tired of pretending like nothing ever happened, like there isn’t a reason why we ended up like this in the first place.” You wipe your tears.

“y/n, I know things weren’t the best before and I fucked it up, I know—trust me. You don’t think I don’t regret what happened years back? It fucking eats at me every night because you’re not by my side anymore—”

“That’s the thing Jungkook! You don’t fucking get it,” you sob, “YOU were the love of my life, you were everything to me! And for you to do what you did-” you choke up and cover your mouth, “and I’m supposed to heal from that? I never did, and I never will because the person I trusted the most—who I loved so much—fucking betrayed me. Do you have any idea how I felt? You were my everything, and you fucking threw it away!” You scream in anger and frustration.

“Y-You broke me,” you hiccuped, “it’s not fair that you get to come back like nothing, ‘n now everyone’s gonna look at me like a fool because I got back together with my shitty baby daddy.” You sniffle, “I have thought about us for a while, but I’m scared because I don’t know if you’re going to do the same thing all over again.”

Jungkook’s own eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, he quietly sniffs and clears his throat, “I’m sorry y/n, I never did get the chance to but I’m sorry for everything. But not once did I stop loving you ever, you were my everything too—and you still are. Nothing about the way I’ve felt about you has changed, and it never will either. I realize how impulsive I was just now so,” he drops to his knees in front of you and holds your hands, “please y/n, let me prove to you I can still make you and Jiho happy. I don’t care if you wanna make me wait until you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting for you. Just please, give me one last chance..”

You desperately want to say no, but you’re weak. You’re too busy clinging to every little memory of him in the past to fill that emptiness in your heart to notice that you’ve wanted him back all along. You feel the doubts begin to creep out of your body as you peer down at him, “You’ll..wait..?”

Jungkook nods, “As long as you want me to.” He whispers back.

“Okay..” You softly reply and squeeze his hands tightly, afraid that if you let him go he’ll vanish into thin air.

“Okay.” Jungkook sighs in relief, smiling up at you tenderly. He rises to his feet and brings you in for a tight hug, just relishing in your warmth and softness as he rocks the two of you side to side.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into his arms, “You’ll be here with me right?” You lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll be right here,” he hums, “standing next to you.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have met bambi at some house party — you was a friend of matt's, so he was only somewhat aware of your existence; real sweet and innocent, you don't know the first thing about any drugs. you're in the bathroom trying to escape the noisy atmosphere around yourself, when chris stumbles in on you, a joint hanging lazily at the edge of his lips.

"woah, can you knock next time?!"

"m'sorry didn't know anyone was in here...hey what you doin' in here, anyway? s'your friends at?"

"matt's downstairs talking to some girl, i don't know-"

"matt? you know my brother? wait, aht, i got it, know who you are, now...y'eyes, got like a uh, bambi thing goin' on, y'know? gonna call you bambi, yeah?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never let bambi touch any drugs — he's dead set on making sure you prolong the innocence about you in that aspect.

"not even one hit? c'mon chris-"

"y'know the rules bambi, s'don't even try it. y'not takin' no hits of shit."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ chris keeps pink rolling papers, because bambi likes the color and it reminds him of your pink ribbons you wear in your ponytails.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a specific playlist for when he takes bambi on deals with him — he's got dominic fike and marina playing throughout the car as you hum contently.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a glove compartment full of lollies and other sweets for when you're on deals with him. the sight of bambi's lips carelessly wrapped around a cherry lolly has his mind whirling.

"got any suckers for me today?"

"y'know where to find em', doll."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ spoil bambi all the time — he's buying you clothes, perfumes, and any little thing that reminds him of you.

"this top is cute, but i don't-"

"yeah, put it in the basket."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ not have a label on your relationship — bambi's a little naive and thinks might call you his, but he's not trying to label what you have going on any time soon.

"yo, isn't she your girlfriend? she's always with you."

"girlfriend? s'not my girlfriend, nah...she's my girl though, y'get me? not datin' or no shit, jus' my girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always have bambi sat on his lap at parties — his hand drums in the innermost flesh of your thigh as he massages you, whilst the other hand diligently distributes to the awaiting palms of people.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ mad dog the fuck out of anyone who looks at bambi the wrong way — especially when you takes you on deals, he's seething with anger when a customer gets particularly too close to you.

"nice to see you, sweetheart, hopin' i'll see you more-"

"get the fuck away from her man, or i'm knockin' ya ass out where you stand."

"chris, seriously?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ send bambi random fit checks + snaps to keep you updated when you aren't with each other. likewise, he makes you send the same back so he can keep track of where you are when he's not with you.

"new shirt, you like it?"

"it looks so good on you, baby!" ( he'd never admit baby drives him wild. )

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be affectionate to bambi in the most random ways — he's either got his arm slung around her, massaging her shoulder or he's got your legs resting atop of his own, massaging those whilst you scroll on your phone.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always be kissing on bambi — forehead, cheek, arms, legs, anywhere he sees fit, really.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ make bambi wear his clothes when you stay the night at his place — he'll never admit that he loves the idea of having you in them, yet he can't resist the urge to smile when you're giggling sweetly about wearing them.

"i love this jersey! can i keep it baby, please?"

"y'know what, go head' sweetheart. looks good on you..."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be extremely possessive in bed, especially if you're batting your eyelashes a little too much at a customer.

"he could never fuck you like this doll, could he?"

"f-fuck, no chris..."

"who's fuckin' pussy is this, huh? tell me who you fuckin' belong to."

"y-you, yours, fuck!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love love love to give bambi backshots — you're at a party and he's horny? he's taking you upstairs to the bathroom, bending you over the sink.

"such a good fuckin' girl, takin' my cock like this..."

"look at yourself in the mirror while i fuck you, sweet girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ finger bambi in the passenger seat if you're getting too whiny and can't wait.

"please chris, need to feel you inside me..."

"so fuckin' impatient bambi, jus' can't wait? s'all you get, my fingers...make a mess on em' c'mon angel..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ definitely have a breeding kink — though, he knows damn well the idea of bambi getting pregnant scares him, so he keeps you with birth control.

"fuck, such a tight pussy...gon' make you a mama, yeah? wan' have my babies don't you, ma?"

"gonna look so pretty carryin' our fuckin' kids, fuck..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love high sex with you — he's lazily thrusting up into you while you ride him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, or

"ridin' me so well ma, look so pretty on top of me like this..."

✦ his lidded eyes watch in anticipation as you're down below on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes while you suck him off.

"gah, shit mama, makin' me feel so good...keep fuckin' goin' thas my good girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ would love doggy — when you wear those short shorts around him, all he can think about is having your ass up in the air while he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

✦ love missionary, too — it's a more intimate position, but he can't help wanting to see your fucked out expression while he's deep inside you, watching your ever changing expression while you feel him deep inside of you.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be a little bad at aftercare at first, but he's slowly getting the hang of it the more time he spends with you — he's cleaning you up and massaging you after you guys finish, and ordering food for the both of you whilst he smokes a joint for himself.

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris are my roots guys, i'm gonna start writing for him again. dealer!chris & bambi!reader are my literal babies & i hope you guys enjoy them! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @guccifrog @fawnchives @cottoncandyswisherz

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Three) (18+) / Part One | Part Two

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 6.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Dinner is a tense affair, but by the end of it it feels less like walking on eggshells and more like walking around hard boiled eggs on the floor. There won’t be a goopy mess if you step wrong, but no one wants a squashed egg.

You and Jake seem to be getting on as friends, as long as you ignore all of the blatantly romantic elements of your current situation. You’re unfortunately subjected to a man beside you fingering his roommate beneath the table cloth, and you’re glad that Jake also agrees that despite being on a sex boat, that kind of thing is better done in private.

“Unless, of course, everyone’s into that,” He shoots you another one of his patented winks, and you delight in reaching across the table to steal the cherry off of his black forest cake.

“Hey! Oh, whatever,” He scoffs at your triumphant grin, reaching for his glass of wine. There’s not much left in the bottle; he’s a heavy pour and you didn’t bother counting his glasses- you just know he’s had more than one. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of pink, and you plan on snapping as many pictures as you can as soon as you can get him hazy enough to let you. 

“Here, Hangman,” You feign kindness, taking hold of the bottle and trying to line the neck up with the rim of his glass despite him pulling away, “There’s only a little bit left, finish it off so you don’t waste your money.”

“No, ‘can’t.” He insists, gulping the rest of what’s in his glass in a manner rather contradictory to his words, “Gotta sober up again if we’re going out tonight.”

“I’m going out tonight,” You remind him firmly, finding woozy, pliant Jake much easier to talk to than sharp-as-a-tack Hangman, “You were all set to head to bed earlier; I thought you were some sort of kissing fiend on wine.”

“That’s why I’m soberin’ up, darlin’.” Jake drawls, and though he’s blinking slower than normal, his tone indicates that you’re the stupid one.

“Can’t be much of a security guard if my eyes are goin’ all dizzy,” He says, his tongue lazing into a southern twang that’s sharper when he’s oiled up with booze.

“Security guard?” You echo incredulously, “Hangman, what possessed you to think I’d need a security guard? I’m in the Navy, we both know how to aim between the eyes.”

“No, you know how to aim between the legs,” Jake licks the bitter wine residue from his lips, most likely tasting a sweet tinge of chocolate there, too, “I just don’t feel right leavin’ you with that Daniel guy.”

“He’s nice.” You speak with a tight clench to your teeth, and though you have to separate them to fit your dessert fork into your mouth, they still feel tense. You supplement the need to snap at him by grinding the pastry dough on your tongue into shreds with your molars. Perhaps you’re brutalizing your pie instead of enjoying it, but you’re not in much of a state to enjoy anything right now, except maybe liquor.

“If you’re not gonna drink this, I will,” You secede, waving the bottle at him, “If I’ve gotta spend the night with you I don’t wanna remember it.”

“Finally,” He scoffs, reaching now for his water glass where it’s sweating on the table cloth. His cold, calculating smooth-talk has been reduced to a petulant fit, “Only reason I bought the damn wine was for you, ‘then you had to make a big fuss about it, ‘n all of a sudden you’re suckin’ it down just ‘cause I’m gonna crash your little date later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very unfair, Hangman,” You drawl, the only thing stopping you from drinking straight from the bottle being the elegant setting around you, “I’m unreasonable and I think you should ask someone to switch roommates because you can’t stand me.”

“Oh, nice try,” He levels you with a glare, water beading at the corners of his lips as his hand trembles slightly around the glass, “That’s that reverse psychology bullshit. Nah, I can handle you. You jus’ need a good kiss, that’s all.”

Annoyance prickles in your chest; he’d been shaming you for kissing earlier, now he’s prescribing it?

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Mhm.” He nods, his eyes slipping shut as he braces his hand against his forehead, elbow on the table to support his weight. He looks pitiful- like he’d worked 14 hours and not like a man on vacation. Perhaps the water is working, loosening the effects of the sweet wine and leaving him drained in its wake.

“It would calm you down, I think.” He mumbles, somewhere hazy between sleep and wake, “Jus’ gotta arm wrestle Damien for it.”

“Daniel.”

“Whatever.”

--

Jake has mostly sobered up by the time that you’re all four bathed in multicolored strobe lighting one deck down from the restaurant. He’s sticking to strictly water now which is bringing his awareness back, but he has to take trips to the bathroom every ten minutes. You don’t mind- you appreciate having the time alone with Daniel.

“So,” He hums, hands framing your waist and chest pressed to your own, “He’s a little protective, isn’t he? You guys have a thing going on?”

“No thing.” You snap, “There’s no thing going on between us.”

“He acts like there is,” Daniel muses, and it’s somewhere between disappointed and resentful. But his hands never stray from your skin, so you hope it’s not directed at you.

“He just- he likes to be the best in everything,” You explain, the words escaping in a sigh, “You should see him in the cockpit, he’s insufferable. ‘Always has to win. I think that’s all it is, Daniel. And- for him to win, I’d have to lose. So I think he’s trying to bully you away from me, then he can boast about how I’m lonely and he’s not. He does it all the time back home.”

Daniel’s face curves into a frown, “He seems like a douche. ‘Like the kinda guy you should stay away from.”

“Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from him,” You scoff, tucking your nose against Daniel’s chest while the music lulls into a more heartfelt melody, “But for the next seven days we’re stuck on a boat together.”

“At least Danica likes him. Maybe we can unofficially swap.” Daniel nods towards his roommate, who’s now offering Jake a beer where he’s just exited the restroom. 

You watch as he grins charmingly- the same one he’d leveled at you during dinner only an hour before, “No thanks, darlin’. I’ve gotta keep an eye on that one over there.”

The pair glance at you when Jake gestures, and you realize they’ve caught you staring when you hadn’t even realized you were doing it yourself. You press your face back against Daniel’s chest, a strange breed of embarrassment heating your cheeks. 

“You can drink,” You call to Jake, agonizing as you’d rather keep your voice to a low murmur against Daniel’s ear, “I don’t need to be babysat.”

At that exact moment the four shots you’d done of something they’d promised you was mild all flood to your ankle and weaken it so that it gives out under your weight. You stumble, your foot bending awkwardly as you shriek, gravity trying its best to drag you down to the scuffed floor.

Daniel’s eyes widen but he works quickly, and his strong arms brace against your back as he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. He glances over your shoulder at Jake who’d lunged forwards to catch you, and there’s a tightness in his jaw, a hardness in his eyes as he straightens up that spells irritation close to bursting. Daniel smirks at him.

“What were you saying?,” Daniel chuckles, letting you ease your hands off of him where you’d gripped tight to his biceps, “I’d make a ‘falling for me’ joke but it’d be so bad I’d throw myself overboard afterwards.”

“Sorry,” You bemoan the surely stinging handprints on Daniel’s toned biceps, “I didn’t mean to- aah,” You hiss, gingerly raising your tweaked ankle, “I rolled it or something, I’ll- ooh, I’ll be back. Just gonna ask the bartender for some ice.”

Both men step forwards to brace your weight against theirs- even Danica offers her hand, but you wave them off with a sheepish laugh.

“I’m okay, guys, really. I can walk, it just-” You wince, a twinge of pain shooting through your ankle, “It just hurts a bit. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom for a minute with the ice on it, ‘see what that does.”

Daniel looks hesitant to leave you, but he lets you hobble to the counter. The bartender looks suspicious of your request at first, like you’re somehow cheating him out of profit by asking for six ice cubes in a plastic bag. But one glance down at your elevated ankle gets him moving, and he wraps it once in a paper towel before passing it over the counter.

The bathroom counter is not an ideal resting spot, but it does give you a chance to glance at your makeup in the mirror. It’s mostly in-tact, but you note that your lipstick has faded some, partially from pressing it to the rim of your glass and partially from pressing it to Daniel’s own mouth. You’d shared a few more dizzying kisses on the dance floor, and they make your rolled ankle worth it a thousand times over.

The ice bleeds condensation through the towel after only a few minutes, and you turn the package so the dry side is now pressed to your sore limb. You hear footsteps and you ensure that your dress is draped over your lap- sure it’s a sex cruise but no one wants to see you on display, and glance at the doorway to see who’d come in through the hall.

It’s Jake.

In the women’s bathroom.

“Hey!” You scoff, glaring at him while your fingers numb with cold, “Get out of here, you creep. This is the women’s bathroom.”

“I know. But you’re treating it like a hospital, so I’m gonna do the same. How’s your ankle?” He glances towards your foot braced on the counter, “Dalton can’t be that good of a dancer if he’s steppin’ on your feet the whole time.”

“First off, it’s Daniel. Second, I didn’t roll my ankle because he stepped on me, I rolled it because I’m drunk.”

A satisfied smile flits over Jake’s face, “So you do need babysitting, then?”

You neglect to respond verbally in favor of trying to melt his face off with your glare. It doesn’t work- in fact, his own expression only gets brighter.

“So, whaddya say we just drop right down on the tile and go for it?” He offers, gesturing towards the dingy bathroom floor, “Or- this counter might work,” He leans forwards to brace his biceps against it, shaking to no avail as the fixture stays tight.

“Oh, yes, that would be very comfortable,” You gripe.

“It could be.”

“Get out, Hangman.” You grimace, shifting the ice against your ankle, “I just wanna freeze this pain away and get back out there, and I think your presence is somehow making it hurt worse.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special,” He cocks his head slightly, leaning against the counter and glancing at your ankle, “Is it throbbing?”

“No. Just stings a bit.” You grumble, keeping your eyes off of his dress shirt and the way he’s rolled the sleeves up. It’s a pretty color, nice against his tan skin.

“Right.” He murmurs, voice similarly soft as the music leaks in muffled through the walls.

“You can go,” You nod towards the door, “I think Danica really likes you. Which is weird, because she’s heard you open your big fat mouth, and that’s usually what sends ‘em running.”

Jake rolls his eyes in an excellent impression of Penny’s daughter Amelia now that she’s in the throes of teenagedom. 

“Anyways, you should go and drink with her. Have fun,” You offer, hesitantly kind to him, “You might as well get lucky even if you got stuck with a prudish roommate.”

“You’re not prudish,” He narrows his eyes at you, “You and Devon dry-humped in an elevator.”

“Daniel!”

“You didn’t even deny it,” Jake mock-gasps, “I bet the two of you were rubbin’ up on each other-”

“Get out.”

“-from decks 1-8. Hey, what’s that Ed Sheeran line that Rooster likes? Up and comin’ like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator?”

“Get out!”

Your ice pack doubles as an excellent projectile, but Jake was raised with older sisters, and is fantastic at dodging things flying towards his face.

He catches it with that infuriating grin he’s always shooting at you, and he tosses it into the trash while extending his other hand as an offering towards you.

“C’mon, Roger Clemens, let’s get back out there, shall we? Or are you too drunk to stand?”

“I can stand,” You insist, ignoring his hand and sliding off of the counter onto your feet, though one protests the weight with a sharp jolt of pain up your leg.

“Sure,” He scoffs, once more rolling his eyes skyward as he grabs hold of your bicep anyways, hoisting part of your weight onto him, “Let’s just get outta here before a gaggle of you ladies decide they’re all going to the bathroom together. Why do you do that, by the way?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because men have a habit of wandering in despite the clear sign on the door that says Women’s.” You glare up at him, but you let him help you hobble out of the bathroom.

“I go where I’m needed. You needed a medic,” He shrugs, angling you towards one of the barstools so that you can rest your weight again, “And you needed someone to tell you to stay away from that David guy.”

You snap your eyes shut instead of correcting Jake yet again, instead focusing on why he’s being particularly dickish this evening.

“Why do you care so much? He’s a nice man, why are you so angry that we’re connecting?”

“Because I don’t think he’s a nice man,” Jake’s face scrunches in a frown packed with judgment, “He defiled you in an elevator and he’s leaving his roommate high and dry.”

“No he’s not,” You scoff, “They’re dancing right now!” 

You jab a finger towards the pair now pressed together on the dance floor, ignoring the newly familiar tinge of jealousy in your chest when you see Daniel’s hands pressed to Danica’s waist just the same as they’d been to yours. It’s fine. You’re on a sex cruise; he signed a lot of contracts but monogamy wasn’t one of them.

“That’s worse,” Jake sneers, his hand sliding from your bicep to your back to steady you on the barstool, “He’s not loyal to either of you.”

“I don’t need his loyalty.”

“That’s not right. You should want loyalty. You don’t see me chatting up everyone’s roommates, do you?”

“You’re certainly friendly with Danica! And I don’t need your loyalty either, Jake!” You gush, voice raising, “Loyalty is for relationships! This is sex! Heated, messy, sloppy, dirty sex!”

Jake’s eyes dim of their usual fire, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his grin stays plastered in place. Then, slowly, bitterly, it fades, and he looks away towards a water ring on the surface of the bar, “Sex ain’t all there is in life. One day you’ll want loyalty.”

Your indignant laugh comes immediately, “Hangman, I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on loyalty. You’ve cycled through every tourist that makes the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to the naval base. You’re not even loyal to your friends, why do you think we call you Hangman?”

The fire in his eyes is back, but it’s hot and not warm. Low blow. Maybe if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have said it.

His jaw is tight when it opens for him to spit, “That’s ‘cause I ain’t got a girl I wanna be loyal to. And- and that Hangman shit is old, I don’t leave you hanging anymore. Not in the air, and not on the ground. Not after-”

Neither of you say it, but you both remember the sheer terror you’d felt when Bradley had gone down trying to save Maverick. How Jake had begged to be launched in a search and rescue, how they’d held him back until they were certain the two pilots were already on their way back. Like they didn’t want to risk one man to save two. Like Jake’s pleading wasn’t proof enough that they were more than just soldiers, more than just numbers, that they were people, too. You owe him that; he’d shown loyalty there, even if his pride had been hurt. Perhaps that proves his ego doesn’t win out, even if its what he likes to display.

“Fine.” You murmur, biting your cheek, “But- but just stay out of this, okay? If I wanna fool around with someone then I can, doesn’t matter if he won’t be here after this cruise is over.”

Jake’s face sours impossibly further, “Fine.”

He storms off through the crowd, and there’s a handprint-shaped cold spot on your back. 

You scoff at his dramatic display, but before the bartender serves you the drink you order in a huff, Daniel comes weaving towards you through the crowd.

“He asked to swap,” Daniel informs you, “And he called you my ‘side chick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a bitter sip of your drink, eyes widening at the strength, “Oh, god, if I can even aim.”

“Aim?” Daniel asks, slight trepidation clouding his features, “You gonna punch him?”

“Nah, I’ll shoot him down in a fighter jet.”

It draws a laugh out of Daniel, and you enjoy the rich, warm sound. It sounds a little how your drink tastes, but it’s not as sour.

It’s just as intoxicating, though, and you let it make you dizzy as he takes your hands and spins you on the barstool to the rhythm of the music, dancing with you as much as you’re capable of.

--

“I think she’s one drink away from falling off of that stool,” Danica muses, and Jake’s eyes snap to her own where her head reaches his shoulder.

“What? Y/N?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at her for the last six songs.”

“Sorry.” Jake grimaces, “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“It’s fine.” She pats his chest and god, it’s pathetic and oozing with pity, “She was giving you a hard time earlier?”

“She’s always giving me a hard time. Can’t just let me help her, she’s gotta make a big stink of everything.”

“Mm-hm,” She nods along, and Hangman begins wondering if this is how people feel when they speak to him. Patronized and condescended.

“Well, I don’t think she’s capable of giving you a hard time anymore,” She narrows in on the way you’re slumped against Daniel’s shoulder, face stretched into a permanent lazy grin, “You wanna head out for the night and get her to bed before she passes out?”

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, but his eyes never leave your slouched frame, “I’m having a nice time dancing with you, doll.”

“No you’re not.”

He turns to her, brows furrowed, “What?”

“No,” She repeats, but there’s mirth in her voice instead of reprimand, “You’re not. You’re worried about her. You two are friends?”

“Something like that.” Jake hums, but pointedly never denies her accusations, “She’s just- pardon me for speaking ill of your roommate, Danica, but I don’t want him messing around with her.”

“Mm. So you’re her father?”

“No,” Jake’s face wrinkles, and he tugs his arm an inch tighter around her waist, “We’re friends like you said. Sort of. The kind of friends that are always at each other’s throats, y’know the type.”

“Oh. So fuckbuddies.”

“No,” Jake laughs, and it eases out some of the worrisome creases in his face, puts new, happier ones in his skin instead, “See, I suggested that this cruise partnership was a work’a fate, that it’d give us a chance to blow off some of our steam, but she won’t have it. So now I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“Ooh, so you’re not even in the friendzone,” Danica grimaces, a dry smile on her face, “Well, Jake, for what it’s worth, I think she’s lucky to have you as a roommate. And as whatever sort of friend you are to her.”

Jake nods tersely, head still turned to watch the way Daniel keeps you upright with an arm around your waist. 

“She said-” Jake starts, then remembers he’s talking to a woman he barely knows, then remembers he’s got nothing to lose, “She said all this shit earlier about me not being loyal. Reliable, trustworthy, all that. And- I wasn’t, okay? I was a… not so great person. For longer than I’d like to admit. But,” His throat feels tight now, and it tenses in his jaw as Danica listens, “I’m not like that anymore. And I haven’t been for long enough for her to notice. If she’s lookin’, that is. Which- I guess she’s not. But I just thought maybe- I thought maybe she’d see it and we could be different. I still wanna tease her, of course. But at dinner she told me she thought I was just trying to ruin this for her. And I’m not,” His eyes gleam, not with tears but with something close and soulful as he blinks into Danica’s eyes, “I’m trying to make it better. I’m trying to make it the week of her life. The week of both of our lives. I’m just…” He hesitates, weighing the word on his tongue, “I’m afraid she won’t let me.”

Danica squeezes gently at his bicep through his dress shirt, and briefly mourns that the beefiest man on this ship is 100%, prime-time in love with you. She’d have loved to spend a night with him, but she kisses her chances goodbye as she smiles sweetly at Jake.

“You’re a good friend. You’re a very good friend, Jake. You’re trying to be very good at being much more than a friend. But she’s not seeing it, right?”

Jake nods, and she mimics the action, “So you need to show her. Show, not tell. Even if she’s resistant, even if she tries to gripe at you, it’s because she’s still seeing the man you used to be. And hey, maybe she won’t want the man you’ve become, even if you worked hard on becoming him. But there’s no reason to throw up your hands now, is there? Let her see the real you, then she’ll decide whether she’s willing to have you. Be patient. It’s all up to her in the end, so be this new-and-improved version of yourself, and she’ll take care of the rest. Okay? Remember, you’re a good friend.”

Jake nods at her reassuring words, steeling himself for a week of patience that he doesn’t typically possess.

Danica continues through the silence, “Aaand a good friend would make sure she gets back to her cabin before she blows chunks all over her hookup’s shoes, right?”

“Oh.” Jake’s eyes widen momentarily as his head jerks towards you - he’s only ever seen you upchuck twice before, both times after rowdy nights out with the group, but he is noticing a familiar pudge to your cheeks that can’t spell anything good. He’s tempted to let you ralph all over Daniel, teach you a lesson about mouthing off to people that are only trying to be nice- but that’s what pre-dagger squad Hangman would have thought. That’s old Hangman, the aviator who’d have sold his wingman out for fame and glory. Now he’s an entirely different Hangman, the one with a rope around his neck that tightens each time Daniel squeezes the pudge of your hip.

“Thanks, Danica,” He breaks away from her embrace with a kind, chaste smile, none of his usual toothy sleaze, “Hey, uh- enjoy your night with Daniel. Careful, though: I’ve heard he does terrible things in elevators.”

“I’ll keep it in mind!” She calls, her voice a melodious laugh as she waves goodbye at him, “Straight to bed, Jake! And leave water on the nightstand!”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” He’s happy to let his southern drawl take over, nodding at her with a wink before spinning around to face you.

Daniel glances up at him, and his attempt at keeping a neutral expression over his face is valiant, but some of the wariness seeps through in the way that his arm tightens almost imperceptibly around your shoulders. Your eyes are desperately trying to stay open but they still lock onto Jake no problem, and you raise both of your eyebrows in what Jake is certain was an attempt to only raise one.

“Yes, Hangman?” You ask, your voice thick with booze, “You need somethin’?”

“You look like you’re about to need a trashcan,” Jake tentatively reaches for you, “C’mon, it’s gettin’ late. We should head back to the cabin for the night.”

Jake expects another jab about the nature of the cruise, but what he gets is drunken compliance, an easy reach of your hand for his own and a mumbled, ‘kay’.

“Hold on,” Daniel catches your waist, keeping you suspended between them, “You sure you can get her back okay?”

There’s a sharp tilt to his brow that makes Jake think Daniel’s not questioning whether he’s strong enough to carry you. The thought both offends and disgusts Jake, and he takes pleasure in swatting Daniel’s arm away from your hips to tug you into his embrace.

“She’s safe with me,” Jake scoffs, “But your roommate’s gettin’ lonely out there, Dallas.”

“It’s Dominic,” You gripe, the stench of liquor hitting Jake full-force now that your face is only inches away from his own, your forehead bumping his jaw.

Daniel hadn’t found Jake’s jab to be very funny, but a smile quirks the corners of his mouth at your slip-up, and he finally lets you go with a pat to the hip.

“You can call me any name you want, Y/N,” He offers, but his eyes pass darkly over Jake’s tense face, “So long as it’s not Jake.”

“No, no, he’s- he’s Jake.” You jab a sharp finger into Jake’s chest and he flinches back slightly, hissing at the contact.

“Good memory, darlin’.” Jake commends you, “Now let’s head for the elevators, m’kay?”

“I love elevators,” You sigh, no doubt remembering the feverish embrace you’d shared in one only hours prior, “Daniel, are you coming too?”

His face turns down in visible pain and he shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go find Danica - she’s probably looking for me.”

“She’s probably found someone else by now,” Jake laughs, haughty and biting, “I wouldn’t wait around for someone if they were hellbent on fooling around with someone else.”

“Really?” Daniel speaks like he’s snapping at Jake, gnashing and snarling like a fighting dog, “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

The weight of your head slumped in the juncture between Jake’s neck and shoulder feels like shackles. 

For a moment the two men stare at each other, and if you weren’t slowly losing consciousness between them, they might have given into their tension-fueled urge to scrap like feisty teens. But you release a soft, tender sigh against Jake’s chest, and he hikes his arm up under your thighs instead.

“‘Gonna lift you, darlin’.” He informs you, waiting only a second before he scoops you into a bridal hold. Your head is quick to loll backwards at a grotesque angle, and before Jake can balance you out, Daniel reaches over to assist.

“Here, honey,” The man croons, nestling your head against Jake’s bicep, and he watches in abject horror as Daniel leans down to press his lips to your forehead, “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? I’ll find you.”

Jake is desperate to know whether your responding smile is dreamy from the liquor or from the sight of his face, “Mm, okay, g’night.”

“Night,” Daniel murmurs fondly, and Jake is all too happy to drag you away from him. 

“Slow down,” You plead when Jake is ten steps out of the bar and beelining for the elevators, “I’m gonna spew.”

“Not on me, please,” Jake jolts to a stop in the middle of the hallway, noting the rhythmic rocking motion of the boat and cringing, “Can I go for the elevator?”

“Slowly,” You mumble, and evidently you hadn’t heard his begging by the way you nestle your nose into his chest.

Upon hearing the ding of the elevator your eyes snap open, and you seem horrified despite having heard the word mere seconds before.

“Wait. No elevator.”

“What?”

“No elevator. Please, I can’t- ugh,” You groan, leaning away from Jake to hang your face over the ground beside him, “I can’t take the pressure of moving up in an enclosed space.”

“Well we’re one floor away from our room, how do you expect me to get you up there?” Jake gripes.

Approximately thirty seconds later he’s hauling you up a flight of agonizingly shallow stairs.

“This is bullshit.” Jake scoffs, “Should’ve had Daniel do this.”

“Dean,” You correct him, “His name is Dean.”

“No it’s not!” Jake laughs incredulously, rounding the corner to the second half of the staircase, “See, if you can’t even remember his name, you shouldn’t be foolin’ around with the guy.”

“What’s the name of the last woman you took home, Hangman?” You shoot him a glare with narrowed eyes where you’re still held in his arms, and he stops in his tracks to shoot you a menacing glance of his own while his chest heaves from exertion.

“Touche. That’s why I stopped foolin’ around with her, though. Couldn’t care enough to remember.”

“You never care,” You grumble groggily, and Jake tugs the both of you up the remaining four steps until he’s on your cabin’s level.

Your words are slashing relentlessly at a wound that’s been gaping for longer than Jake can remember. He thinks it's worse when you’re drunk- you’re shitfaced enough to forget your new boytoy’s name, but you still remember how shallow and vapid of a person Jake used to be.

“Right now, I care very deeply that you’ve got your room key with you. Or that you can reach mine; whichever works. You got it on you, darlin’?”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” You lament, “Where’s yours?”

“Uh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder, “Back pocket.”

Alcohol courses through your veins in the same quantity blood does when you reach with no inhibition for Hangman’s ass.

Jake’s eyes widen as he feels your fingers prodding and poking liberally around his dress pants, finally finding the pocket and slipping inside. He stays frozen solid at the door while you root around for his phone, finally pulling it out and squinting to focus on it as you bring it towards your face.

“Room key,” You pull out one of his debit cards out of the sleeve on the back, handing it to him expectantly.

“Uh- no, not exactly,” He strains to keep you suspended- he’s starting to wonder if you’ve got more muscle mass than he does, “The red one in the front, Y/N, that’s the room key. And I don’t have a hand to unlock the door with, so you’ll have to do that yourself.”

You toss his debit card onto the floor like it’s garbage.

“Hey! That’s- oh, just get the key.” He kicks it forwards, keeping it propped against the toe of his shoe while he waits for the door to open.

“Got it,” You drawl, and this time you’re right. You lean forwards without waiting for Hangman to move with you, and he nearly drops you where you’re aiming the keycard for the slot on the lock.

“Jesus, just- stick it in!” Hangman snaps, eyes on his debit card still discarded on the floor, “Let’s hope you never use a strap-on, you’ve got terrible aim.”

“I got it,” You grunt and a green light flashes while the lock clicks open. You manage to jiggle the door handle until the heavy slab of wood swings open, and Hangman is glad you’d remembered to leave a light on before you’d left.

He takes his final steps towards the bed and sets you down on the side he’d left open earlier. You’re too shitfaced to remember that you were vehemently opposed to sleeping in the bed earlier, and he’s glad for it when you sink willingly into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed, lashes resting over your cheeks.

“Hang on, ‘gonna get you some water. You- uh, change while I’m gone.”

He ambles off to the bathroom, and when he hears rustling outside the door he shuts himself inside to give you privacy. He decides to change into his own sleeping clothes, but it’s less of an outfit and more of a strip tease until he’s standing on the cool tile floor in nothing but boxers. He hadn’t planned on wearing much of anything for the entire week, and he definitely hadn’t packed sleeping clothes.

He fills a glass of water and knocks briefly on the inside of the bathroom door, “Hey Y/N, I’m coming out, m’kay?”

There’s no reply.

He assumes you’d shout at him if he tried barging in on you changing- in fact, you had only hours prior. He takes your silence as permission to exit the bathroom, but when he finds you curled up in bed, your dress is still on.

Evidently you hadn’t been changing.

“Y/N,” He groans, reaching out to prod tentatively at your shoulder, “No, don’t do this to me. Wake up, c’mon.”

Your eyes are firmly shut, glued there by booze.

“Shit.”

Jake sets the water on your square nightstand, ankles sturdy despite the rocking motions of the boat. He’s well used to being at sea, and it doesn’t make him unstable as he leans over to inspect your sleeping face. He can see your eyes flitting this way and that, barely covered by the thin skin of your lids, and he marvels at your drunken ability to knock out like you’ve been concussed mere minutes after hitting the mattress.

He lifts your arm and when he lets go it falls pathetically over your chest - there’s no waking you.

“Okay,” Jake grimaces, reaching for one of the straps of your dress, “For the record, I don’t wanna be doin’ this.”

“If you were awake you’d be yellin’ at me for breathing towards you,'' Jake rambles, a running dialogue making him feel slightly better about stripping you naked in your sleep, “But if you wake up tomorrow in this deathtrap you’re gonna be pissed, so I’m doin’ what I think is best. I swear it’s not a ploy to stick my hand down your shirt.”

And- speaking of sticking his hand down your shirt, he has to ruck the fabric of your dress up and over your breasts to slide it off of your head, “Aaand, there they are, and they’re out now, and that bra looks really uncomfortable, so I’m gonna-”

Jake slides his hands beneath your back, locating the series of clasps easily. 

“Please don’t kill me,” Jake begs, blinking up at the ceiling as his neck aches with the way he cranes his head upwards, “I’m not lookin’, I swear.”

He peels your pushup bra off of your chest, and the fabric is warm where he tosses it in the vague direction of your suitcase. He wants nothing more than to linger on that, to press his hand to the pad that had just cupped your flesh and let the warmth travel south. But he is a Southern gentleman, and you’re sleeping, and the bra remains discarded in the hallway.

“Right. Now the pajamas,” He continues his stream of consciousness if only to reassure himself that he’s not a creeping perv in the darkness of your cabin, “For both of our sakes, Y/N, I hope you packed better nightwear than I did.”

Upon discovering nothing but lacy chemises neatly folded among your other clothes, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Don’t go gripin’ at me in the morning for sticking you in one of these things. It was your poor packing skills that led us here.”

He plunges a hand into your suitcase and comes out with a red lacy contraption. He feels, to his own incredulity, a blush rising over his cheeks, as if he’s a teenage boy thumbing through a porn mag and not a decorated naval aviator. He drops the red thing, and reaches for something less sinful. What he finds next is a softer pink garment, silky and longer than the red- though he’s sure it’ll only barely cover your ass. All he wants is to cover his own, though, to make sure he won’t be in trouble for cramming you into a sexy getup while you’re passed out drunk, and the pink is looking better than the red for that purpose. Although- Jake has to admit, the pink is sexy in its own right. It’s soft, and smooth, and delicate, and he’s getting uncomfortable down south so he really needs to stop staring at it.

“Pink it is, darlin’.” He hums, “Hope you don’t mind. Maybe when we dock you can find something a little more conservative. Up you go,” He slides a hand beneath your back, his eyes trained dutifully on your forehead and absolutely nothing down below, “Hope y’don’t mind your hair getting a little messy. I think you scruffed it up when you hit that banister earlier, anyways.” Technically, that had been equal parts yours and his fault. He’d been carrying you, so he could have been a little more careful about swinging you this way and that as he’d navigated the ships’ halls, but you kept reaching out to touch things, and you’d collided square with a metal post in your curiosity. He bunches up the chemise and slides it over your head, careful not to scrape the lace over what little of your lip gloss remains. He doesn’t want to add staining your clothes to the list you’ve surely got of all his transgressions against you.

It’s rather hard to dress you blindly, and his hand does accidentally dip between your tits as he tries settling the material against your skin. He jerks it away like it’s burnt, hissing as his eyes widen where they’re staring at a particularly boring ceiling light.

“Accident. It was an accident. I swear.” He vows, hoping against hope that you’ll stay sleeping as he clumsily dresses you.

“Christ,” He yanks the material down your thighs, settling the chemise into place, “‘Knew how easy it was to take one off’a woman, never knew how hard it was to put it on. I think,” He muses, blinking long and hard before peering down carefully at you. You’re fully clothed, “That’s good. Okay. Done.”

The silence in the room is deafening now that he doesn’t need to keep up a stream of dialogue to soothe his fraying nerves, and his footsteps seem to pound against the cabin floor as he rounds the bed to his own side. There’s plenty of room, but he still feels like he’s sinning - crawling into bed beside your sleep-limp, pink satin-swathed form in nothing but his boxers.

With one click of the remote beside his bed the lights turn off, and there’s no sound besides the ship’s motor to distract him from the gentle inhales and exhales of your peaceful breathing. He licks his lips, settles into his typical sleeping position, sniffles briefly, fiddles with his hands, lifts a leg up to stretch his muscles, readjusts his neck on the pillow, clears his throat, wriggles his toes beneath the blankets, itches his nose, and comes to terms with the fact that he’s unable to sleep. Something’s not right, and he thinks little before he turns to his opposite side to see if sleep will meet him there.

It doesn’t, but your face does.

His neck stiffens and he nearly rears his head back when his nose brushes against your own, your warm breath fanning over his face. He snaps his eyes shut and breathes deeply himself, lashes fluttering when he deems himself brave enough to open his eyes again.

You’re there, looking like sleep was made for you the way it lulls your face into peace and erases the wrinkles Jake puts around your nose and mouth. There’s no longer the prominent frown lines that you’re always sporting around him, and your lips are blessedly relaxed, almost pouting with the way your cheek is squished into the pillow instead of disapprovingly downturned in his direction.

The silence suffocates him, rushing into Jake’s ears and clogging them until tv static fills his brain. The only words he can form, the only thing he’s capable of doing is murmuring a gentle, “Goodnight, Y/N,” In a voice far softer than he’s ever aimed towards you before.

Then he turns, rolling back onto a shoulder that aches from carrying your phantom weight, and shuts his eyes for the night.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[atskiruma]

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Svsss au where Shen Qingqiu’s female. Shen Yuan is still male though. When he transmigrates into SQQ he freaks out not only because he’s the scum villain but also because he’s a girl now. Where is his dick?!? Airplane, you hack, give me my dick back!!!

LBH’s still a guy and everyone else is the same gender too. It’s just SQQ that has the genderbend. And Shen Qingqiu stews over the fact that not only is he a scum villain and a girl, he's the only woman in PIDW that actually gets a bad end and not just tossed into the harem because Shen Qingqiu was just that bad of a scum villain that not even Luo Binghe, stallion protagonist, husband of hundreds of wives, wants to seduce and papapa her into submission like he did with so many other villainess beauties. And it's not the beauty that's the problem. Shen Qingqiu is beautiful. Like an immortal fairy descended from misty peaks to grace the mortal world. Just the type to fit into the harem. So, it really is a testament to how much Luo Binghe hated her that he tortured and killed her instead.

During the three years of LBH in the abyss, SQQ finds a plant or smth that can turn him into a man. So he eats it or whatever. Then, bam. Male Shen Qingqiu.

Fast forward to Jinlan City and Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe meeting again. Luo Binghe freezes and his eyes rack up and down Shen Qingqiu’s form, over his face and repeating the process a few times before stuttering out a very choked and strangled “Sh—Shizun?” Because just did Shen Qingqiu get hotter as a man?!?! (He didn’t but Luo Binghe didn’t know about his transformation and going through the shock of it and a gay panic at the same time. And they’re really close together so he can see all the small changes that are making Shen Qingqiu more masculine instead of feminine.)

“Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu replies, flicking his fan open, his voice cool and even. And Luo Binghe chokes, wheezing out a breath at hearing not only Shen Qingqiu’s deeper, masculine voice for the first time, but that voice saying his name. Send help, this boy is not doing well.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling for something, anything to say.

"Uh..Um.. Sh-Shizun looks...nice," he eventually says, feeling like an absolute idiot! Of course, Shizun looks nice!!

"...As does Luo Binghe," Shen Qingqiu replies, feeling out of depth because Binghe is two years yearly, and why is he acting so weird? Shen Qingqiu's trying to find Luo Binghe's angle for this weird behavior. Is he playing the traumatized victim of the scum villain teacher? But, if he is, this behavior doesn't seem quite right for it... "Binghe has certainly grown more into himself," he decides to add. More compliments can't be bad, right?

And Luo Binghe's brain short circuits again because Shizun just said he looked nice!!

He lets out a high pitched squeak. Shen Qingqiu is horrified, wondering what is wrong with Luo Binghe. Why is his face so red? And his eyes are shifting around erratically, not focussing on anything. (Luo Binghe can't keep his eyes on Shen Qingqiu--he's to handsome to look at--but also can't look away from him. Seriously, he is struggling bad. Gay Panic: 3, Luo Binghe: 0)

Seeing Luo Binghe continue to look bright red, act weird, and his face look kinda contorted honestly, is making Shen Qingqiu worried about him and his eyes land on Xin Mo. Ah. Xin Mo must be affecting him!! Shen Qingqiu thinks, and calms some at knowing what's wrong. Then that calm is replaced by panic, because Luo Binghe effected by Xin Mo is never a good thing. See, Binghe! This is what happens when you rush your leveling up arc!!

Without thinking, Shen Qingqiu steps forward and lifts his hand to feel Binghe's forehead. Just as he thought. Binghe's burning up. Shen Qingqiu frowns and hums. Luo Binghe goes a bit cross-eyed and his face heats up even more at Shizun touching him. He get's a bit dizzy from it and sways on his feet. Shen Qingqiu's eyes widen at this and reaches his hands out to gab at Luo Binghe's upper arms, stabilizing him. At this, Luo Binghe lets out a high and quite whine in the back of his throat. Shen Qingqiu is very worried now.

Keeping Luo Binghe supported in his grasp, he looks around at the gathered Huan Hua Palace disciples, wondering why one of the girls here isn't rushing to help Binghe. That's what you're here for!! he thinks scowling, then barks out orders at them to find a room for Binghe to lie down in. While they don't really want to take orders from him, they do and find a room. In Shen Qingqiu's ordering, he calls LBH "Binghe" not "Luo Binghe" and it's not helping Luo Binghe regain brain functions.

"Come on, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu whispers to him, ushering him towards the room, "right this way. Can you walk or do you need this master to carry you?" Luo Binghe just whimpers which only worries Shen Qingqiu further and he hurries Luo Binghe to the room faster. Once there, he settles Luo Binghe on the bed. In all his worry, he's fallen back into Protective Shizun Mode that cares for his sick disciples (or Mommy Mode if you prefer). So, he orders the Huan Hua Palace disciples to get water and a cloth and lays the cool towel on Binghe's forehead who's just staring up at Shen Qingqiu with wide eyes. "Shhhh...It's okay, Binghe, you're okay..." he murmurs and Binghe whimpers again, needing to close his eyes. He thought Shizun hated him and thought he was a monster to be put down, but here he was caring for Binghe so sweetly and gently, his touches soft and whispering reassurances to him.

Shen Qingqiu continues to hover over him replacing the cloth when it grew warm, brushing his hair out of his face, patting and stroking his head gentle, and transferring qi to him to try and sooth the effects of Xin Mo. While this little...bout...wasn't brought on by Xin Mo, the sword is still effecting Binghe to at least some degree, so Shen Qingqiu is mitigating that effect. Luo Binghe can only lay there, helpless against the effects of his Shizun and soaking in his affection.

The System kept on giving Shen Qingqiu point increase updates, but they got so frequent that they were annoying and distracting, so he muted them. Shen Qingqiu has however clocked that him pampering Binghe like this and caring for him in such a difficult time is helping his situation and he's hopeful he won't be turned into a human stick as soon as Binghe regains his strength.

One of the Huan Hua Palace meimeis finally can't take it anymore and steps forward, "I can do that. No need for Peak Lord Shen to trouble himself," she says, barely able to hold the vitriol in her voice back. Shen Qingqiu knows his queue when he sees it (at least he thinks he does) and nods gracefully, rising from his seat beside the bed to let her sit in his place. The girl looks smug for only one moment before Shen Qingqiu stops and looks back down at Luo Binghe. He had reached out and grabbed onto Shen Qingqiu's sleeve.

"Shizun, don't leave me," he whispers so soft and broken sounding. He's utterly wrecked by the amount of emotions that have been surging in him, first from the gay panic and then Shen Qingqiu pampering him when he thought he was hated. (Xin Mo wasn't helping either.) And, Shen Qingqiu's heart just cracks at how vulnerable and broken he sounds and the teary look in his eyes, and just plops back down in the chair, grasping Luo Binghe's hand, not breaking eye contact.

"I won't. Shizun won't go anywhere, Binghe, okay?" he says without thinking. Luo Binghe nods and hums, a couple tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Shen Qingqiu reaches out to wipe them away with his sleeve, one hand still firmly holding Luo Binghe's hand. And, while he hadn't thought before sitting back down or speaking, he can't bring himself to take his words back. Not when Luo Binghe is like this. He clearly needs someone to care for him, and for some reason he wants that person to be Shen Qingqiu. And, who is Shen Qingqiu to deny the protagonist what he wants? And his little disciple at that? While he knows that Luo Binghe is supposed to be blackened right now, when he looks at him, all Shen Qingqiu can see is his little disciple wanting his Shizun.

The Huan Hua Palace girl, though, not wanting to give up just yet, steps forward once more, determined, "Really, I--"

But she's cut off by Luo Binghe growling at her lowly and giving her a harsh glare. She's shocked still by it, her eyes widening and face paling.

On instinct, and so caught up in nostalgia, Shen Qingqiu snacks Luo Binghe's head and glares at him, "Don't growl at her. I taught you better than that."

Luo Binghe looks up at him with wide eyes like a child caught misbehaving, then mumbles demurely, "This disciple is sorry. He won't do it again."

And that shocks Shen Qingqiu out of his nostalgia and he realizes he just smacked. Luo Binghe. The post-abyss Luo Binghe. And scolded him like he was still his teacher and not a scum villain. Terror racing through him, Shen Qingqiu gently pats and soothes Binghe's head, saying sweetly, "Ah, no, it's okay. Binghe needn't apologize, he can growl all he wants." Hopefully that'll do it, he thinks while he continues to pat Binghe's head and fluffy hair. Luo Binghe just stares at him with wide eyes again, his face heating again as well. Then Shen Qingqiu starts fussing over him again and his red face, the girl forgotten. "Ah, is Binghe's fever back? Just lie still. Hey you there--get more water!" then turning back to Binghe and transferring more qi.

Luo Binghe continues to KOed by Shen Qingqiu until he's nothing more than the whimpering, sticky little disciple Shen Qingqiu remembers him to be. just with claws and a demon mark and red eyes and powerful demonic qi. and an evil sword. But still Binghe!! His sweet little bun that just wants his Shizun. (Binghe gets rid of the evil sword when Shen Qingqiu expresses his dislike on how negatively it's effecting him.) And, if Binghe wants his Shizun, then how can Shen Qingqiu deny him that?

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 13 || The Unexpected

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, sexual tension, & smut.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU RUSH OUT OF THE building completely flustered with an embarrassed expression written all over your face.

Perhaps after dealing with men who so easily compliment you and fell for your flirtatious traps you'd grown accustomed to not being turned down. Getting dismissed by a man like Toji Fushiguro isn't exactly something you planned for.

It won't stop you from showing up next week and trying again but it will leave you embarrassed and shamefully horny.

You strolled down the campus pathway, heading toward where your car was with your head stuck on what had just happened. The man seriously just told you to get out. You thought you had managed to seduce him at least a little but now you guess you were wrong.

So distracted with your thoughts of what just happened, you nearly miss as a familiar voice calls your name. Your lashes flutter as you blink a few times and look around the area to spot the man who'd called your name.

Your brows push together when you don't see anyone. Okay, now you're hearing things-

"Right here, gorgeous." Geto suddenly whispers into your left ear.

The sudden sound makes you jump and you move your hand to smack his chest for scaring you. He chuckles at your reaction and you give him an annoyed scowl.

"Suguru, don't scare me like that!" You huff.

Geto snickers at you, "Sorry."

A pout takes over your expression and the sight furthers his amusement.

"You're so cute," He hums, raising a hand to pinch your cheek. You immediately smack him off. "Oh c'mon, don't be like that. You didn't even send me a text after our date... How do you think that makes me feel?" He says with a sudden frown.

You blink. "Uh..."

"That's not nice, y'know. Leaving me all high and dry." Geto continues as he shakes his head at you.

"I just thought..." You trail off for a second and the man leans toward your face suddenly.

The words you were going to say fall off your tongue completely as Geto abruptly begins to study your facial expression.

"You alright?" He asks.

You try leaning away, "Yes, why?"

"You look..." His eyes narrow, "I dunno, horny?"

"H-Huh?" Your heartbeat spikes in alarm. If he can tell, does that mean Mr. Fushiguro was able to see that as well? "How the hell can you notice something like that?!" You question the man.

"Darling, I spent an entire night seeing you with that exact same facial expression. I don't think I'll be forgetting it anytime soon." Geto reminds you.

You grit your teeth slightly, "Is it... Is it that obvious?" You mumble.

The man in front of you grows surprised, eyebrows raising and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I mean, to me, yes. Though, I wasn't expecting you to admit it so truthfully."

You freeze. Shit, you just told on yourself. "Uh.."

"No need to try lying about it now." Get said with a shrug. He then stands straight up, "What-, actually, who got you all worked up?"

"Uhm..." Your eyes dart off to the side. Why the hell would you tell him anything-

"Was it Mr. Fushiguro?" Geto guesses. He was going based on the building you just left and who was likely to be in there.

Your eyes fly right back over to the man, "How the fuck-"

"Did you forget that I know about the list...?" He reminds you with a slight chuckle.

"You..." A sudden thought rushes to your mind. "Holy shit, you do, don't you?"

"Yeah, so-"

"Shouldn't I be pissed with you right now?" You ask as you remember that Gojo said Geto had videoed you the night of your date.

He scoffs. "What for?"

"Didn't you record me??" You question.

For a moment, Geto stares at you as if he's contemplating something. Then he swallows, "Uh, no."

"No?? But Gojo said-"

"He lied."

"He..." Your head cocks back in surprise, "He what?"

"He lied. I never recorded you." Geto says honestly.

You scowl at the male, "Bullshit."

"When would I have had time to do that?" He scoffs, "I could hardly think straight with the way you were sucking my-"

You move a hand over his mouth and look to your left and right. "Shut up," You snap at the man. "No need to put our business out there like that..."

Geto chuckles beneath your palm before lightly taking hold of your wrist and pulling your hand away. "My bad. But seriously, when would I have recorded you? And if you want," He moves to pull his phone out, "You can check my phone."

You stare up at him, glance down at his phone for a second, then look back up at him. "You could've sent it to Gojo and then deleted it from your phone." You point out.

"True but, I didn't," Geto says.

You fold your arms, "And how am I supposed to believe you?"

"What reason would I have to lie?"

"I don't know."

"And what good would blackmailing you do me? I'm not Satoru." Geto tells you.

He has a point, but you're still unsure if you want to trust him. "You're his best friend though."

"We're two different people. Completely opposite of each other." He hums.

"Okay..." You say, batting your eyelashes at him. "That doesn't prove anything or make me want to believe you any more."

"Alright," Geto sighs, "What if I offer you comfort?"

"Comfort...?"

"I can only imagine how alone you feel in your situation."

Fuck, he's right. You swallow, "I..."

"You can't tell Shoko because you feel embarrassed, can't talk to Satoru because you 'hate' him, and I'm not sure if you know anyone else that you'd comfortably want to talk to about this." Geto points out flawlessly.

You simply stare at the man with hardly any response to that. He's right, after all, you have been feeling ridiculously alone in your predicament.

"I obviously can't make you believe me about not recording you but, you can trust me." He claims.

You remain unconvinced, "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate me like Gojo?"

"Because if I was trying to manipulate you, I would've done it already."

"Uhuh, sure you would've."

"I'm serious. I only approached you today because I wanted to talk to you about this."

"Yeah right."

"I don't know what Satoru has going on in that head of his but even a blind man could see that what he's doing isn't right."

Your eyes suddenly light up, "Are you saying you're going to help me out of this?"

"No."

"But... you could if you wanted to," You say as you raise a brow, "Couldn't you?"

Of course he could. All Geto has to do is tell you the truth about the situation. "What makes you think that?" He asks.

"Suguru..." Your eyes narrow and you lean closer to him accusingly, "You know something that could get me out of this, don't you?"

"N-No." Geto stammers.

"Liar."

"Alright, let's say hypothetically I did... I wouldn't be able to help you out without fucking myself over."

You blink. "Huh, how?"

"Do you really think Satoru is going to be happy with me ruining his fucked up little plan?"

"Well, probably not... But you're his best friend!" You emphasize, "He'll forgive you."

"Perhaps." Geto hums, "But I don't think you realize, you're not the only one Satoru's willing to blackmail."

"...He'd blackmail you too?"

"Maybe. And if not, he'd probably go out and tell people things about me I never intended on sharing..."

"Kinda like how you're a dirty little pervert?" You blurt out teasingly.

The man halts for a second, then he snickers. "Yes... Like that."

"Speaking of which... Do you still have my panties?"

"I do," He smirks and moves as if he were about to pull something out of his pocket, "Want em' back?"

"Y-You don't just walk around with them, do you?"

He laughs at your facial expression, "No."

You sigh, "Thank god. A-And yes I want them back."

"Come over one day and take em' from me." Geto taunts.

"Not happening."

"That's what I thought," He chuckles. "Anyways, back to what I was saying, you can trust me. I can't help you out of your situation directly but maybe I can help you through it."

"Really? You'd do that?" You ask, smiling at him slightly.

He stares at your expression, "Sure."

"Wait... in exchange for what?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying." Geto sighs, "Here, I can even suggest something for you."

"What?"

"Satoru's paying you right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Ask him if he'll pay you for each time you sleep with someone," Geto suggests.

"You mean like," An eyebrow raises, "If I sleep with someone more than once?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"But why would I sleep with someone twice...?"

He shrugs innocently, "I mean, right now you're horny and I'm standing right here..."

"I..." You blink, "Suguru do you want to have sex again? Is that why you're trying to help me?"

"Okay, no. That's not why I want to help you, though the sex would be a nice bonus... I've been thinking about how you probably feel." Geto says. You can feel the genuine care in his voice but you're still wary of trusting him.

"So, what, you wanna be my therapist?" You reply with a playful scoff.

He chuckles, "You sound just like him, y'know."

"Don't compare me to that asshole."

"Sorry. But if that's what you wanna call me, sure. I can be your therapist." He shrugs. "Now," Geto moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pull you close to his side. He then tips his head down to your ear, "Tell me what has you so aroused right now?"

Steadily, the two of you begin walking together.

You swallow, "You want the details...?"

"Sure, why not?" He responds rhetorically.

"Pervert."

"C'mon, what happened in that classroom?"

With a roll of your eyes, you give in, "The professor is fucking hot, that's what."

Geto scoffs, "Yet I'm the perv."

"You are."

"But... you're the one fantasizing about a teacher fucking you..."

"I-I wasn't..."

"Really?" He smirks, "You weren't thinking about getting on your knees and being like 'please sir, just the ti-"

Heat rushes to your face, "Stop it."

Geto starts laughing at you, "Shit, I'm right aren't I? That's one of your dirty little fantasies, isn't it?"

"It's not."

"You can be honest with me, I won't judge."

"...Okay, so what if it is..."

He pauses his words for a second. The man's eyes are all over the side of your face as you keep your gaze forward. "I personally think that's hot," Geto tells you.

"Of course you do." You chuckle.

"What do you mean of course??"

"Slut."

He frowns, "That's your second time calling me that."

"You like it."

He falls silent.

"See? Can't even say you don't."

Geto abruptly whispers your name into the crown of your ear, his voice lower than you expected it to be. "Careful now, darling."

You scoff, "Why?"

"Cause, you're turning me on."

You swallow. Your lower lip gets caught between your teeth at his sudden claim and you can't ignore the fact that your arousal has yet to go away.

"You uh... Do you think Gojo will actually pay me for sleeping with someone twice?" You question, slowly turning your head to look at the man.

Geto meets your eyes and both of you have the same exact thing in mind. The tension was so very obvious.

He didn't need to say anything and neither did you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

This was unexpected. You have no idea how you let yourself get in this position. Damn Geto and his way of convincing you to trust him.

Well, it's not a bad thing that you're trusting him. He made some very valid points, especially the one about him being the only one who knows about your situation and won't judge you for it.

Yet, none of that would've made you think you'd end up in the back seat of his car with his head in between your legs and his tongue deep in your cunt. Good god, the man eats you out like he'd be waiting to do so.

"Fuck Sugu," You breathed out.

The loud sounds of him sucking and slurping on your folds filled the car air. His tongue moved so sloppily over you, lapping up every drop of your wetness like there's no tomorrow.

It was all too much and too little at the same time.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," Geto groans, his voice vibrating against your clit and making your back arch off the seat slightly.

You've got your fingers tangled in that beautiful head of hair of his, unconsciously tugging at it every now and then. The way he'd wrap his lips around your sensitive bud has your lip quivering with moans pouring from your mouth.

Geto flicked his tongue over it and then shifted slightly to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit. Those large hands over his were tightly gripping onto the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread no matter how much you squirmed beneath him.

He pulled his jaw back slightly and peeked up at you for a second before sticking his tongue out and pressing it flat against your wet cunt. Geto slides one of his hands up along your thigh while slurping your taste into his mouth.

Pulling away from your pussy with a loud pop, you hear him swallow. "You've gotta let me get these off you," Geto pleads, referring to the pretty lace stockings you had on.

"W-Why," You stammer as he moves to kiss over your sex.

"Mgh," He moans into you. "I n-need em'" Geto tells you, his voice desperate.

You were unaware but the man's cock was bulging against his pants and he'd been dry humping his car seat to get some kind of friction as he ate you out. You gasp as he moved to rub his thumb over your clit and his mouth focuses on your insides.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, "Need em' f-for what...?" You voice out in between a moan.

The man couldn't even respond to you as he needily worked to please you. Geto's tongue was buried so deep inside your pussy that you think you were starting to see stars. Along with his thumb, you felt his nose brush up against your clit as he pressed his face into your sex.

An arm draped over your mouth, "Y-You're makin' a mess... ngh, Sugu... hah..." You moaned out to the man.

You could feel the way he smiled at your words. The hand that's still on your thigh slides up and one of your stockings is suddenly stripped from you in an instant.

"Mmmgh... I know," He whispers. His face was so wet from you but he didn't care, simply shoving his tongue into your sopping hole regardless.

Confusion takes over your expression for a second but when Geto pulls away and spits on your cunt to further the sloppiness of it all, your brain fades to mush.

That one stocking of yours is soon used for the male to relieve himself. Another loud popping sound is heard as he pries his lips from you and lifts his head. His eyes are so low and lustful, his tongue hangs slightly out of his mouth, and the bottom of his face is coated in your slick.

Geto licks his lips, "Hah... I have class soon," He hums before sitting up.

Two of his fingers slot into you abruptly to make up for the lack of his mouth. "Hnngh... A-Ah, then why'd you w-want to..." Your words fade into a whine as he curls his digits up into your g-spot.

His other hand hastily works to free his cock from his clothes and you hazily watch him hold your stocking in his mouth for a second. After his dick is freed from restrictions, your cunt clenched around him at the sight of Geto using those stockings of yours to jerk off-- shamelessly moaning at the contact of the soft fabric to his shaft.

Your jaw drops at the sight, "You're so... f-fuckin' dirty," You say meanly, words going straight to the man's cock.

Geto tosses his head back, one hand working to please you and the other moving to relieve himself simultaneously. "F-Fuck, mgh... keep, shit, keep talkin' to me like that." He requests.

The fingers thrusting inside you increase in pace and you feel a thumb swat over your clit. "Ha-ah, you're so nasty Sugu..."

"Yeah?" He flashes a smile, "Fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep degrading me like that."

"Mm-mmh... look at you, ngh-, getting off with my stocking..." Your eyes roll back a little, "So filthy-, fuck." You squeak out as your climax approaches.

"Agh," Geto groans, the jerking motion of his hand growing faster as his precum smears along his length.

The situation was so lewd-- Geto jerking off with a clothing item that'd just been wrapped around your leg for hours and his free hand eagerly fingering you as he did so. Your legs steadily drew together while the squelching sound of his two thick fingers plunging into you hit your ears.

It sounded so messy and sloppy. Your moaning and Geto's groaning were filling the car and fogging up his already tinted windows.

Your orgasm crashed over you when the male swiveled his digits around inside you. His eyes were on yours as you did so, large hand pumping his cock with vigor at the sight of you.

"Oh f-fuck," Geto moaned, his voice slightly pitched.

Your eyes were glossy as your orgasm died down but you clearly saw as the man slid his fingers out of you and brought them up to his mouth. You watch those pretty eyes of his rollback once your taste is on his tongue again and he groans against his fingers as he too reaches his peak.

Geto sucks your slick off his own fingers and cums hard into his hand and all over your stockings. The sight of his body shuddering slightly and a string of saliva connecting from his fingertips to his lower lip as he pulls his hand away from his mouth is something you drink in entirely.

You carefully shut your legs and innocently stare at the mess the man has made of himself. "You're gross..." You say teasingly.

"Hah," He pants slightly and glances over to you, "Am I?"

"You just came all over my stocking..." You say with a scoff, "Perv."

"S'that your new nickname for me or something?" Geto asks.

"Yeah, it is." You say with a sigh. After which you shut your eyes and grin, "Gojo better pay me for this or you're in trouble."

"I'm sure he will." He responds simply.

"If he doesn't..." You begin moving to sit up, "You'll owe me."

"Oh, so you're a full-time whore then?"

"N-No but... I need the money," You mumble.

Geto looks down at the nasty mess he's made of himself and chuckles, "I'll pay you if you come clean me up."

You blink, "Are you serious...?"

"Maybe."

You think about it for a second but when you look down at the pitiful sight of your cum covered stocking wrapped around his length, you frown.

"Nah, I'm good." You say simply.

Geto rolls his eyes, "You're no fun."

And with that, the two of you respectively begin to clean yourselves up. You ended up texting Gojo and asking him that question of yours. To which he responded with a bunch of follow-up questions regarding if you had just slept with his best friend again.

When you told him yes, he ended up leaving you on read and simply sending you more money. A smile had grown on your face when you realized that fact bothered him to the point where he couldn't even respond to you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Knowing that you could hook up with anyone on the list more than once and still get paid for it was something that oddly made you quite happy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you did two things. First, you and Geto ended up talking more than you expected to. He'd give you decent advice on how to seduce Toji and you used every bit of it.

Secondly, you attended that one class and endured a private lesson every Monday while getting riskier and riskier with your flirting.

Each lesson ended relatively the same nonetheless, Toji would say that it's been enough time the very second you had this certain look in your eyes. He learned to steal himself for the way you look at him or the questions you may ask and ever since that one time, he's never allowed you to tempt him again.

You used every ounce of advice that Geto continuously gave you-- maintain your posture, give him bedroom eyes, respond in ways that make the man feel like he's in control, etc. Surprisingly, Geto's advice was really good.

You notice subtle changes every time you use his suggestions and you're pretty sure it was all working. Slowly but surely, Toji was growing closer and closer to crossing that line with you.

After that spontaneous hook-up you had with Geto, you found yourself doing it a few times actually. It was always random and sometimes you didn't even bother to ask Gojo for money because having a fuck buddy was kinda fun.

And no, you didn't forget about the walking green flag that is Choso Kamo. The two of you went from texting every few days and a few phone calls to texting every single day and multiple phone calls. Although you couldn't tell him about the list, you were growing very close to him in terms of friendship.

In your mind, you had Geto to rant to about the list and Choso to talk to about anything else. You had started to feel comfortable in your situation. Well, to a certain extent of course.

There was always this little voice in the back of your mind screaming every time you flirted with Mr. Fushiguro but aside from that, you were slowly getting more and more into this role of yours.

You still actively ignored Gojo unless it was about the list, Geto was a good fuck every now and then and he'd listen to you complain whenever you needed to, Choso was just this little ball of sunshine who you wanted to avoid hurting at all costs, and Toji was...

Okay well, the man was completely fine up until the fourth week of your lessons with him.

It was the first and only time you had arrived late. You missed the entire lecture and arrived at his classroom just as the man seemed to be packing up to leave.

Toji was standing at his desk grabbing a few things but he paused when you came rushing into his classroom. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to regain oxygen in your lungs.

Your eyes were noticeably low, your face flushed with emotions, and your top was noticeably undone. With your hands on your knees and your body hunched over slightly, you panted heavily to catch your breath.

"M-Mr. Fushiguro, I... hah, I'm sorry I'm l-late." You huffed out.

The man was quiet as he stared at you. Slowly, you stood straight up and began to fan yourself off.

"Fuck," You curse. "Sir it's so hot in here."

Toji blinked at the sight of you slightly sweaty and still out of breath. With a scoff and a light shake of his head, he turns and takes a seat at his desk. "Did you run here or somethin'?" He asks, voice deep and husk like always.

You nod your head, "Y-Yeah."

Was that entirely true? No, but, you weren't going to tell him that.

As you look at the older man you notice that his gaze is slowly trailing down your body. That little stockings and skirt combo is hugging your body again and you don't miss the way Toji oggles the sight of you.

As his gaze rises back up, it comes to a pause at your chest and he raises an eyebrow at you. You blink and look down at yourself, noticing you've got more buttons undone than intended to.

"Shit," You whisper while raising your hands to fix yourself, "Sorry Sir."

"You're fine." The man says. "Sure you still wanna' interview me today?" He asks.

You nod your head again and glance up to look at him as your fingers work against your shirt, "Yes. I know I came late but I'm here now."

Toji moves to rest his elbow on his desk, propping his arm up and resting his cheek against his knuckles. "Care to explain why you were late?" He questions.

You freeze. "U-Uhm."

How are you supposed to tell him that you were late because you were too busy sucking Geto off in his car and almost completely forgot about these lessons of yours?

"Uhm?" Toji mocks, raising an eyebrow.

"Traffic." You result in telling him before looking back down at your shirt.

You began to struggle with one of the buttons and it was starting to frustrate you, especially since you left Geto completely untouched and now you're all hot, horny, and frustrated.

Toji's eyes narrow in on the messy state of your shirt. You looked more disheveled than you realized. "Traffic, huh?" He hums.

"Mhm."

"Traffic's got you all messed up like that?" The man quizzes further.

Again, your body freezes. Your sights slowly rise back up and over to him, "Y-Yes Sir..."

He scoffs and you watch his hand raise. Toji beckons you over to him with two fingers. At first, you don't move. Then, after the slight stutter in your brain, you carefully walk over to him.

Toji's seated comfortably in his chair and peers up at you in front of him. He tilts his head to the side and nods his chin at your chest, "Need some help?" He offers.

You're not sure why his words make you shift around where you're standing. "U-Uh... yes." You murmur.

"Yes, what?" He taunts.

The words slip out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to, "Yes please."

Toji smirks and then sits up. It's so slow and teasing how his large hands rise up along your body, just barely grazing you before he reaches your chest. The man stares for a second and then flicks his gaze up to you.

You watch his fingers latch onto the buttons and he too struggles to fix your shirt properly. Something in your head tells you that he's struggling because of the angle he's at so, your body moves before you think about it.

You take another step forward and move so that one leg is planted in between his larger ones. The upper half of your body leans forward into the man's touch and you place a hand on the armrest of the chair to hold yourself up.

Then, to take it further, you lift the leg in between his and push your knee into the chair. You grow dangerously close to his crotch but you pretend not to notice it.

Toji bats his eyes at the sight of you over him. Your tits are practically in his face and he can smell the freshly sprayed perfume oozing off your body. The fingers he had on those buttons of yours slip off of you and he sits back in his chair.

You swallow, "S-Sorry is this..." You start moving back.

Toji licks his lips before saying, "Did I tell you to move?"

Your body halts all movement in an instant. He smirks at your sudden obedience. The man weighs his head to the side while looking up at you.

Those seemingly hazel eyes of his narrow at you, "Let's do somethin' a little different today." Toji suggests.

You remain over him, "Different l-like what?"

His legs spread further apart and you don't miss the way his hips roll upward as he adjusts himself in his chair. The sight alone makes the annoying throb in your core continue. Toji doesn't lay a finger on you just yet, simply gazing up at you.

"I want you to tell me about yourself today."

"H-Huh?"

"It's been four weeks and I've hardly learned anything about the woman interviewing me," Toji points out. He then tilts his head, "How's that fair?"

You blink dumbfoundedly, "Well... I didn't think it was uh, necessary for you to learn much about me."

"It's probably not but," A slow hand rises slightly and his fingertips graze the end of your skirt playfully. "I am curious."

"Why?" You ask, chuckling nervously.

His eyes drop down to where his hand is and you feel two of his fingers move to pinch the fabric of your skirt. "Every week you show up in a similar outfit and ask me all kinds of questions. And the one thing I've noticed is that somehow," Deep colored eyes snap back up to your face, "The questions always turn into something sexual."

"Well I've said it before Mr. Fushiguro, those questions-"

"Make your project better, yeah, yeah, I know." He cuts off. "But if that's the case, why don't you just find out the answer to some of those questions yourself?"

You swallow, "What do you mean...?"

"Last week you asked me about my kinks." Toji recalls casually, "Why don't I demonstrate one on you?"

Your whole body is hot and needy at the very idea of what he's suggesting. The look in your eyes is unavoidably lustful and the man could clearly see from the moment you'd walked in that you were unusually flustered.

"D-Demonstrate?" You repeat innocently.

"Yeah, how's that sound?" Toji asks, looking for your consent. "You can tell me no if I'm misinterpreting all those looks you've been giving me-"

"No, no," You cut off, "I wanna do it, sir."

Toji's cock twitches at the sultry sound of your voice and the words you just uttered.

That painfully attractive smirk of his appears, "Yeah?"

You nod your head, "Mhm."

Okay, this is not how you intended things to go today. It was supposed to be another day of you flirting and asking more suggestive questions but, this works out for you anyways. Not only are you shamefully wet because of the way Geto was moaning and praising you not too long ago but you also can't help but feel so very needy for the touch of Toji Fushiguro.

His hands are so large and veiny, you want them all over your body. You crave for this professor to manhandle you and fuck you til' you can't think straight.

"Alright then," Toji sighs, sitting back in his seat. His eyes then focus on your own with complete seriousness, "Sit."

You hesitate. Glancing around the area, you wonder if he was referring to a nearby seat or something.

Toji chuckles at the clear confusion in your eyes but then he bobs his leg one good time to gesture where he was talking about. "Right here, pretty girl." He directs.

You slowly look down at his large leg in between yours, "O-On your leg, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"My thigh. Sit." He orders.

Embarrassment was coursing through you. Surely if you sat on his thigh, he'd feel the mess you are in your underwear.

You swallow, "Why...?"

Toji snickers at your hesitance. "I wanna watch you get off on my thigh."

You think you feel your cunt throb as his words hit your ears. The thought alone is dizzying.

"So," He continues, moving a hand to your lower back and lightly tapping you. "Sit."

Finally, you do just as he's instructed. As you seat yourself on his thigh, you feel so jittery and nervous. You're soaked right now and you just know he can feel it.

When Toji sees you've made yourself comfortable, he moves his hand to your chin and grabs a light hold of it, "Good girl." He praises.

You think you had to bite back the moan that wanted to escape you in reaction to the praise alone.

The leg in between yours suddenly lifts into you slightly, making your lips part and a breathy noise leaves you. "Now," Toji takes his hand off you and stares at the full sight of your smaller body resting atop his thigh. "Go on, lemme watch you fuck yourself on me."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

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