#so I tapped on it and it was available in large

[crmsndragonwngss]

Someone needs to fucking take my debit card away lmfao

[torchickentacos]

Okay, I've spoken to several of you who like both of these things and I need to know how deep this runs because it's an 'if I had a nickel for each time this thing happened, I'd have (x) nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened (x) times' thing-

[byunpum]

Scent

Pair: Tsu'tey x Human Reader ( jake human sister )

Warning: A little spicy, tsu'tey (in my opinion) being curious.

Note: Me posting something, knowing I've ignored my tumblr for months. Bye~!

After the war, life for tsu'tey had been very quiet. Everything was back to normal, well almost everything. A large number of humans decided to settle in Pandora and close to the clan. The idea of having humans among the clan was not pleasant to him, for him they were a bit unpleasant. They were strange, everything they did was strange to him. And the most disturbing thing to him was the scent the humans gave off. The Na'vi had a highly developed sense of smell and the strange scent of humans was not pleasant for him. They always tried to use some scents to disguise their scent of origin, according to Jake it was “perfumes and soaps”. Tsu'tey didn't think it was cool to use those things. But there was one scent which had caught all his attention. And the owner of that scent came from you.

The first time tsu'tey registered your scent, was when he happened to pass by jake's side. He was talking to one of those humans. But as soon as he walked by you, he stopped dead in his tracks. The scent he was smelling was something… amazing. He felt a shiver run down his spine, he couldn't understand where the smell was coming from. It wasn't until jake tapped him on the shoulder, and introduced them. Tsu'tey turns to look at you. You smiled warmly back at him, giving him the 'I see you' sign. Tsu'tey caught on a little too late, he was so immersed in the scent you were giving off that he barely listened to what Jake was saying. He couldn't believe that you were the carrier of that peculiar scent. From that day on, tsu'tey did everything he could to be by your side.

It got to the point that he didn't care about the comments they made, it was strange to see a man like tsu'tey behind a human. Always trying to help you, or try to talk to you even for a couple of seconds, he had to smell your scent at least once a day. He was becoming obsessed, and if his little obsession was not dying down. He began to notice how your scent became stronger when he was around you. It had to be that reason, because on one of the occasions he came to talk to you. You were talking to neytiri, and he could feel how your scent was the usual one. But as soon as neytiri left you alone, he could feel it getting more and more potent. He was going crazy and he knew it. It wasn't healthy, what he was creating for you. You were supposed to be a human, he wouldn't have to find you attractive or desirable…but here he is. If you asked him to kiss your feet he would do it, even if you asked him to kill someone and let him put his nose in your neck sweet spot for only 5 minutes or less, he would do it.

On the other hand, you were oblivious to this situation. You thought tsu'tey was very kind and gentlemanly. He was always helping you, and available to you. You liked the attention he gave you. Besides…tsu'tey was painfully handsome. You liked him from head to toe, you found him beautiful. And having him this close wasn't helping you much. But you enjoyed his company…there was just a nice friendship between the two of you.

That particular day, tsu'tey could smell your scent from far away, he could tell you were about 30 feet away from him. And he could recognize it was you, turning around to see you approaching him with a basket in your hands. “Hello!!!” you greet him, smiling at him. You were hurting his senses, because if it were up to him he would have already dragged you into his arms. You looked very pretty, in the traditional na'vi clothing. Tsu'tey scanned you up and down, laughing a little. “Do you like it? Neytiri gave me this outfit…she made it for me” you speak, taking a quick turn. “I'm surprised at how well it suits you “tsu'tey says, looking at you again. But now with more determination, the little clothing gave freedom to your scent to be released all over the place, he was getting nervous. “Yeah…she says I should wear more family stuff…you know, since jake is my brother and he is now…” you stop talking, when you notice that the man is barely paying attention to you. “Tsu'tey…are you okay?” you ask, waving your hand in his face. Snapping tsu'tey out of his stasis. He laughs nervously, settling more on his feet. “Yes, sorry. You were saying?” tsu'tey sees you laugh.

“I was going to ask you if you could help me pick some berries…the ones near the river. You know they're a little tall…and I need help” you speak, tsu'tey doesn't think for a second and goes to help you. Getting up from the ground, he starts walking towards the river. The walk from the village to the river was about 15 minutes. When you arrived you both decided that the best thing to do was to pick the berries that were on top of some branches, besides it was much more private for you. Your very presence in the clan could be a bit intimidating for some na'vi. And this was an area where they used to come frequently. Tsu'tey helped you up, placing his hands on your waist, to get you up easily. But not before bringing his face close to your back, sniffing you. Closing his eyes, enjoying your scent. It was a momentary thing, when you climb up the branch. “Are you coming?” you keep walking towards where the berries were. “Yes…I'm coming” tsu'tey swallows hard, trying to control himself.

Tsu'tey helps you for a while, picking the prettiest berries that were on the highest leaves. Sitting down to rest, and to watch you pick in the other corner. You turn and give him a smile. Tsu'tey smiles back. Aside from the fact that the man was obsessed with your essence, he liked the way you were. You were the opposite of your brother. You were calm and quiet. You didn't do risky things and avoided getting into trouble. Tsu'tey enjoyed your company, and he was sure you did too. He could feel it. “These berries are so sweet” you speak, approaching where tsu'tey was sitting. “Yes…and this is their best season” tsu'tey speaks, but is puzzled when you sit down in front of him. You sit in front of him, cross-legged. This new position makes your scent much stronger than at other times. Freezing in his seat, his eyes widen.

However, you keep talking as if nothing is wrong. You are placing the basket next to you, taking some berries to clean them. You can tell, you were the only one talking, tsu'tey might be silent, but he wasn't talking at all. You look up and you can see that he was different. He was looking at you seriously, his pupils were dilated, his posture was straight, his ears were up and so was his tail. You could notice that his breathing was agitated, and although his look seemed to be one of discomfort… you knew it was not. It was one more of lust, you could see how he was swallowing hard. “Tsu'tey?” you speak softly, getting her attention.

“What's wrong with you? Are you ok?” you ask, tsu'tey doesn't answer you, and keeps looking at you. Analyzing your whole body, your scent was ambushing him. It was too strong for him, too sweet. And now with your new outfit you were not helping him. “Why do you smell like that?” says tsu'tey in a serious tone. You grow more nervous, closing your legs out of instinct. The look on tsu'tey's face at this moment was intimidating, but not in the bad way. “I have a bad smell?” you begin to smell your hand, as you watch tsu'tey approach you. Placing his hands on the ground of the branch, leaning a little over you. To now be much closer to you. “Don't do it” tsu'tey places his hand on your knee, moving it to the side. Causing your legs to spread for him. You watch as he closes his eyes, and sighs deeply. Your heart wanted to pound out of your chest, he was getting so much closer to you. “You have a scent…delicious” tsu'tey moves over your body, getting closer to your neck. Pressing his nose to your neck, breathing deeply. Words didn't come out of your mouth, you were surprised tsu'tey didn't use to behave like this with you. Well with anyone…and now he was almost on top of you. Balancing on his hands, sniffing your neck.

Tsu'tey felt so out of control, it was like he couldn't control what he was doing. He was feeling anxious, he wanted to know where that scent that was driving him crazy was coming from. Slowly moving down as he sniffed your skin, down your chest until he reached your breasts. Breathing hard again, to continue, the only thing you could do was to stay still. -T-tsu” your voice is interrupted when you see that tsu'tey had already reached your lower belly, stopping for a moment. At this moment tsu'tey was crouched over you, very close to his goal. He gave you a quick glance, and if you had to be realistic his look was one of hunger. As if no one could stop him, though you didn't plan to. Tsu'tey wouldn't get that far, would he. It was then, when he decided to go a little lower. First you thought he was going to smell one of your thighs. But you were wrong, when he went down he parked his face completely in your clothed cunt.

...

...

Your eyes widen in surprise, as you feel him breathing much harder than before. In a quick movement you move your foot towards tsu'tey's face and kick him in the face. This makes him move away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you yell at him, this is all taking you by surprise. You liked tsu'tey but no one has ever behaved like this before. “What's wrong? I'm just sniffing you” speaks tsu'tey caressing his face a little bit. “What for? And why are you sniffing me…there” you close your legs slowly, but you see how tsu'tey stops you. “Don't close your legs…this is where that rich smell is coming from” tsu'tey says, laughing playfully. “Oh my god, no no” you close your legs tightly. “You're talking about the smell of my parts?” you were more concerned now. “I'm talking about your whole scent, I've never smelled someone with this scent before. No na'vi woman has a scent like this…it's exciting” tsu'tey speaks a little excited. You had never seen him like this, he looked like someone else. He was still very close to you, now he had come completely over you. You were looking up, observing his whole body attitude.

“I have noticed that when I am close to you…or when I touch you” tsu'tey lowers his voice, raising his hand to now touch your thigh, caressing your exposed skin a little. “I can notice how the smell gets stronger…and I love that” tsu'tey lowers his face, moving closer to your face. You push him back, causing tsu'tey to sit back down. You were so embarrassed, tsu'tey was talking about the excitement you felt towards him, like it was nothing. You wanted to bury yourself alive, you were getting so nervous, you didn't know what to say or do to him. “Tsu'tey…but you must not approach him like that. You must ask” you looked down, tsu'tey was looking at you playfully. He is silent for a moment, seeing how you are a little nervous. Squeezing your legs together so nothing would come out. “So…could I smell you a little? “tsu'tey asks. You knew that the attitude tsutey was showing was something without mischief, something he wasn't doing on purpose. It was instinctive on his part.

“I don't know what to tell you…we barely know each other, and yes I really like you” you try to change what you just said but there was a lot going on right now. “I mean…we should wait, yeah?you know what I mean?” you try to make him understand you, it's not like you didn't want tsu'tey between your legs. But it was still too early for that. “Ok… but can I be closer to you?” asks tsu'tey again. You nod with your face, watching as he moves closer to now be literally glued next to you. His tail began to dig into your waist, and he kept looking at you.

Oh my gosh…where have you gotten to. You had to explain to tsu'tey that personal space in humans is much more important than he thinks.

[ohwowimlonley]

more public sex with james please 🙏🙏

No :)

-

Everyone is piled onto one large L shaped sofa in James’ living room, despite there being plenty of other seats available. James says it’s because you get the best view of the TV from where you are, but you’re convinced it’s some kind of ploy.

Sirius is sat to the left of you, James to your right and Remus to his right. There’s a pink sherpa blanket over your thighs, one that you’d offeredto the boys on either side of you, but they’d both refused, with Sirius claiming that he doesn’t need a blanket to watch a horror movie, and James saying he’d let you know if he gets too cold.

In all honesty, you’re not at all interested in the movie playing on the TV screen, despite the fact that you were allowed to pick the movie, one you knew would scare the life out of Sirius and Remus.

James’ thigh has been pressed to yours for the past fifteen minutes, and even through the expensive matierial of the blanket you can feel the heat that he’s somehow always radiating. It’s distracting, really, the way he touches you just oh so casually, like there’s no intention behind it at all. But you know better. There’s no way that he just so happens to repeatedly brush his hand slightly too high when stroking your thigh over the top of the blanket.

Quickly, but as nonchalantly as possible, you throw the blanket over his lap too, and swing your right leg over his knees. He’s suggested doing this sort of thing before; touching eachother in front of the boys, and you’ve always been eager but too apprehensive to actually try it yet.

“You sure about this?” James knows what you want. Somehow, he can always just tell. His hand is already underneath your skirt, on the brink of prodding the waistband of your panties. His lips are on your earlobe, breath fanning all the way down your neck and giving you goosebumps, “we can just go upstairs, you know the boys won’t mind,”

You don’t trust your voice. If you try to speak now, the sound that will come out will be nowhere near appropriate, so you just nod, slow and meek, and keep your eyes flitting to the boys on either side of you.

Your subtleties last not even a minute. The second James’ calloused fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a low, warbling whinge. All three marauder boys look at eachother and snicker. You don’t care about them knowing any more, you just smush your cheek against your boyfriend’s muscled pec.

“Needy, s’she?” Sirius has that toothy grin on, one that all the marauders know to be his ‘thinking dirty thoughts’ smile, “Moony can sort that out, y’know?”

You prove his point only moments later by grinding yourself against James’ fingers. He slips them over your slit, up, down, up, down, and finally allows them to circle around your empty, aching hole. A simply unholy sound leaves your mouth when he slips a finger inside, all the way in until his palm brushes your clit.

“Let them have their fun, pads,” Remus tuts, stretching his gangly arm around you and James to flick him on the shoulder, “you’re havin’ fun with Prongsie, aren’t you pet?”

“Yeah,” it’s barely even understandable, the high pitched preen you let out, but the boys always get you. James leans down, nosing alond your jawline and letting his teeth drag on the topmost part of your neck. He takes out his finger, and replaces it with two of them.

“Gonna show the boys how pretty you sound when you cum, love?” His fingers speed up, tapping against your gummy walls and grinding against your sweet spot. His other hand reaches round and tugs experimentally on the blanket still covering your modesty. He only removes it for the boys to see when you nod frantically against his chest.

“Already? Not even been five minutes, sweetness,” Sirius teases, eyes widening when he sees your pussy contract at his words.

“I think she just likes the attention,” James curls his fingers, using his knees to spread your legs further apart to show you off to his friends, “s’that it, honey? Y’want the boys to watch you get all desperate for my fingers? Want one of them to have a turn next?”

You choke back a sob as you finally cum around James’ fingers, barely even hearing the boys’ gasps of wonder as you gush creamyness around the rim of your puffy hole.

“So,” Remus clears his throat, “my turn?”

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[sheepispink]

Sweet Like Sugar ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི COD MASTERLIST Sweet as Sugar Masterlist

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི pairings: simon riley x (afab) reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Trying to advertise your bakery is particularly difficult, especially when no one seems to want to try anything new lately, still stuck in their old ways. Thankfully, a particular masked man is also particularly fond of the tea you make along side your signature pastries.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི WC: 2.5k

NEXT

You’ve grown up in Wales nearly your entire life, living not too far from a fresh farm and yet so close to a little town you call home. The weather is typical for Britain, always a little dreary though sometimes the sun would shine so bright the grass on these hills looked like those in the movies. You’d run up those hills as a child, laughing as the sheep would make noises after your every whim.

Today was particularly dreary though; the sun struggled to peek through even with the large gaps between each cloud, only leaving behind a desolate grey on the town. It was your turn to take over the shop for the day, seeing as your parents were out of town on business details. A few named your shop to be ‘the littlest around’, since it wasn't exactly the biggest area nor did many know of it. After all, it had only opened recently after the last owner left their business to rot out. It took practically months to renovate the dusty walls of this shop even more so that your family were on a tight budget. However your parents believed in it and so did you.. or you thought you did anyway. Maybe you had watched too many movies as a kid because this business was definitely not booming, infact you had spent the majority of the past week trying to advertise the best you possibly could.

Either way, it was bound to be quiet today so you decide you may as well use it as a testing day. The menu was finalised already however you were eager about one thing to add, a selection of freshly brewed teas. It wasn't the most viable since it required a lot of customers at the same time in order to taste the actual freshness— otherwise it’d just go cold and icky. Placing the portable burner down— something you picked up since most days used to be spent in a caravan— you place a pot atop and light the flame. You had not travelled very far, but due to your grandparent who was particularly interested in plenty of cultures, you picked up a few handy recipes for delicious teas.

Unfortunately, you didnt have much on you today after using your last stock on the small opening party. So, you’d have to make do with what you had. You hum as you boil the water in the pan, before slowly adding the milk and some spices— cardamon and cinammon to be exact. It’d make a rich flavour which was perfect with the right amount of sugar, and so, you let it brew as you hummed, debating whether you were allowed to play your favourite tunes here or not.

Seeing as no one had showed up in a while, you plug your phone into the speaker system, letting a soft song play throughout the little patisserie as you grin and nod your head along. What you hadnt expected was the bell above the door to jingle, heavy boots dragging against the wooden floor as they grow louder. You snap your head up, looking a little startled before you quickly stand infront of the counter again, putting on your best sheepish smile.

“Welcome! What can i get for you today?”

The strange man wears a balaclava over his face, his eyes showing and a few tufts of blonde peeking out the back as he bends a little to look over all of the pastries available. Eventually he stops, pointing at one the sausage rolls, before his gruff voice finally breaks his silence. “Two o’ these.”

You nod quickly, grabbing a paper bag before carefully placing the two pastries inside and sealing the bag.

“Actually, since it’s a weekday, all the pastries come with a dessert or drink. Is there any one you would like?”

You tilt your head, as you place the bag on the counter, already tapping in the current bill. He pauses and glances over at the sweeter desserts, but even you could tell just from his appearance that he doesnt seem to be too fond of them. Instead, his height allows him to easily peek over the counter and he can instantly smell the pot of rich cardamom tea brewing. “Is that for sale?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can only tell from how the mask lifts a little. You pause, wondering if you really should be giving them out to customers just yet.

“It’s a taster really.. would you like to try?” He lets out a grunt in agreement and you walk back over, ladeling a creamy cup of the tea for him before stepping over to him once more. He taps his card down for the items he bought, taking the steaming cup in his hand but he doesnt intend to drink it and reveal his face—clear from the way he glances around the shop. “Is it always this quiet or are you about to close?” He raises a brow, wondering if he had just accidentally forced you to stay open longer than you should. Your hands wave in front of you frantically as you shake your head. “No! No— um, it’s been a little hard to promote business recently. We only opened last month..” Today you decide not to mention that last weeks rain had nearly drowned the entire shop floor, instead just giving him another sheepish look. “I’m trying to look for any opportunities we can to show off our bakes. I’ve been looking at fairs recently.” You hum and he nods, before lifting his mask without a second thought and sipping down the hot tea you made him. “You should promote this aswell, i can see this tasting good with a dessert.” He offers his advice and you nod readily, smiling at him since he just indirectly said that the tea was good. “Well, i’ll make sure to have lots more flavours too!

A month later and unsurprisingly your family’s little shop isnt any more popular than the last time you took charge of it. That strange man appeared a few times afterwards but you hadnt seen him, busy with your own part time job to try and bring some extra income in. Today you were finally back though, the peak of winter hitting like a shock but it didnt stop the excitement brimming through the town.

At the start of December each year, the town would host a market in the main plaza, which was particularly big for the town’s size. There was everything from crafts and fresh fruit, flowers and trinkets to the toastiest hot chocolate and clothing. This year you were determined to make your mark, selling sweet pastries and the spiced tea at the same time. He did say it’d draw in at least a bit of attention, right? Well, you sure hoped so because you were using a portion of your personal savings to try again with the tea. You’d never know if you didn't try and, in the worst case scenario, you could give it for free to the other vendors as a sign of good sportsmanship— maybe you could even trade. You grin eagerly as you set up the stand, glass covers above all your decorated pastries, sweet and savoury waiting to be bitten into. Perhaps you went a little overboard with the baking but this was a big event—even neighbouring towns travelled here!

The fair kickstarts around five thirty, the time when most get off work and so many are already flocking to find something for their hungry stomach. You practically bubble with excitement when you get your first three orders, only to turn and see the hot burrito stall’s queue which looks like it’d shadow your stall next. With a small frown, your demeanour drops as the orders only get rarer, a few commenting on not being sure to try something so exotic. About tea. Literal chai. Customer service was not for the weak clearly, since you had to restrain yourself from lunging over the table right then and there, giving the lady a forced smile before she walked off. You let your head rest in your hands, groaning a little too loudly, but it wasnt like anyone was even close enough to your stall to hear anyway. The only thought that consumed you was frustration; you knew damn well that all the bakes here were delicious, that the recipes were to die for and the tea was an absolute soother for any cold or strain. Though, no matter how hard you tried no one seemed to want to hear you out.

“Are you taking a break?”

A voice rings out, gruff, a little muffled and stern but most of all— familiar. Your eyes snap up, meeting the gaze of that stranger from before, well now he looked entirely different. “You… from before.. you’re a soldier?!” You have to forcefully lower your voice before you cause his ears to bleed through his balaclava. He was decked out in full tactical gear, apart from the weapons of course and the helmet held in the crook of his elbow. Though not just him, an entire team of soldiers aswell who surrounded your stall, practically brimming with excitement at the tasty baked goods they’d finally try.

“Finished a day long training in the cold. Thought i’d bring ‘em to your stall for a break. You dont look good yourself though” He bluntly states the last part out, already suspecting that you’d sigh next. “Orders are still slow...” You murmur, and he nods, as if he’d expected that. Before either of you can speak, one of his soldiers perks up, “Miss, how much would it be for two of these pie slices and one of your sausage rolls?”

Your lips part in surprise and you hurry to the till, typing in the amounts before announcing the price to him. The reasonable cost of your goods and the great quality is enough to catch the attention of his teammates, and soon enough you have them lined up waiting to buy their share too.

You cough to get his attention when the queue finally draws to a blank and he slowly approaches as you gesture to the pots of tea steaming beside you. The soldiers had taken the majority of your stock, even asking for refills but one large cup was saved for him. “On the house, for a regular.” You say cheekily and he nods, the sides of his mask creasing up into what you think could possibly be a smile. “So, how did you even convince your boss to let you bring your whole team here anyway? I always thought those ‘sergeant’ people were like.. really strict.” He chuckles at you, deep and gruff and for a second you’re confused, tilting your head at him. “Hey— what’s so funny? I’m being serious!” He finally stops, his eyes crinkled slightly as he looks back at you. “I’m their Lieutenant.” ” He says still with that monotone voice and your jaw practically drops, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you groan loudly. “I’m very sorry..”

Now sitting upon the benches, they chatter amongst themselves whilst others eye the other trinkets available, looking for something for the loved ones back home. The man with the skull mask still stands nearby though watching you fill up a cup full of the tea before handing it to a customer.

“Do you take large orders too?” He finally pipes up, glancing over at you with that filled cup still in his hand. “Well.. we don't have any official set up..” Being his acquaintance was a severe exaggeration, and yet you couldn't stand to disappoint him right now. Especially seeing as much as he’s done so far,perhaps not intentionally, but what intrigues you even more is that his soldiers seemed to be over the moon about your pastries. You hadn't really thought about the fact soldiers are probably dying for the taste of a good home cooked pastry, especially in the winter months, and now it seems like this could really boost your business.

“But..I could just give you my number?” Putting that forward seems a bit odd, but in truth you were being completely innocent about it even if he seems to believe otherwise, smirking beneath the mask before he nods. He takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and hands it over to you before gesturing to you to do the same. When you receive your phone back, you see the new contact, ‘Lieutenant Ghost (sausage roll)’ and snicker a little; you’re pretty sure you can remember him without the assistance but it’s amusing anyway. “I’ll text you later regarding any big orders we want to make.”

He gives you another nod and you quickly agree with his words, grateful for the opportunity he’s provided you with.

“Thanks for bringing all your soldiers here.. i dont think we would’ve garnered this much attention otherwise.” People had already noticed the brand on the soldiers' cups and bags, making their way to the stall and eyeing some of the goods left from their rampage. He only shrugs, ignoring the fact he had any part in this. “By the way..” You hum, glancing at the untouched tea in his hand curiously. “Why haven't you drank any yet— it’ll grow cold soon.” He leans against your table slightly before he just nods firmly again, looking back at the crowds. “Dont like to show my face.” That makes you blink, confused since he had easily shown you in the shop a month ago when he tried it for the first time. “But—“

Before you can answer, his phone buzzes and he glances down before beckoning his group over. “Oi, all of you. We’re leavin’ in ten— do not make us late.” Suddenly you dont feel at all bad for calling him strict earlier, even snickering a little at how stern his voice had suddenly gotten even if he’s usually monotone to you too. The soldiers eyes grow wide and they quickly jump to buy the rest of their things making you snicker.

“Guess that’s the last I'll see of you, ‘Lieutenant’. See you soon.” You grin, waving as he throws the now empty cup in the trash— when did he drink that? He lifts a hand to give a short wave at you too before stepping away to join the rest of his men. “Dont worry, you will.”

That night you’re left dumbfounded as you stare at your phone, the text lighting your eyes up in the darkness of your room. ‘Tomorrow night is the second day of the fair, right?’ The first part reads, and you mentally nod, remembering how your parents said you’d take the first day and they’d handle the second. When you responded with a yes, but also clarifying your stall is also available, he wrote back one more text.

‘Good. I’ll be taking you around with me this time.”

------

NEXT

Sweet as Sugar Masterlist

buy me a kofi :)

[vampzity]

restrictions | S.CB

★ DAY NINE: BONDAGE WITH CHANGBIN ★

pairing: bf! changbin x f! reader

Changbin never liked it when you misbehaved. It drove him nuts and you knew that. Yet you loved every punishment and every restraint that came with it. He was bound to show you what exactly happens when you go against him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, dom! changbin, bondage, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, spanking , slight choking??, pet names (baby, slut, doll, pretty, good girl), cursing, changbin sees mc as his “doll”

word count: 1.5k

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

Changbin stormed into your shared bedroom, seeing that you were still dressed in your light blue babydoll dress and white heels. The babydoll was see through, enough to show the matching lingerie set you wore underneath.

You sat on the bed, arms crossed as he yelled at you. He slammed the door behind him, beyond annoyed with your impulsive actions.

“You never told me your friends were coming over. You just told me to sit in the room and wait.”

You pouted at him, looking away from the harsh glare he gave you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he walked over to the dresser. He opened it, shuffling through it as you attempted to reason with him.

“I just wanted to show you my outfit. You forgive me, right Binnie?”

You received no answer, watching as he chuckled to himself. You tried to peek around him only to no avail as his figure was a lot bigger than your line of vision.

“I try to give you benefit of the doubt, give you some freedom.” Changbin closed the drawer, placing the things he grabbed on the top of the dresser.

“But you keep testing my patience, over and over.”

He turned around, walking over to your body. A large red ribbon was roped in his hands, his once calm look now a cold one. Your gaze met his as he waited for you to put your hands out. You kept them to yourself, knowing that there was no use in reasoning with him at this point.

He held his hand out, signaling for you to put both of your wrists out for him. You shook your heard in refusal, unsure of how unruly his punishment would be this time around. He sighed one of disappointment, rolling his eyes.

“You have 5 seconds before I start tallying.”

You immediately held your arms out, looking down as you tried to avoid his gaze. He wrapped the ribbon around your wrists, tying them together tight enough to cut off your circulation. He pulled you by your hands, bringing you to your feet so that you stood in front of him.

Your eyes still averted him, but he was quick to hold your chin up. His eyes hung low, a small smile painting his face as the grip on your chin tightened.

“Listen to me, and listen real good.”

He unbuckled his pants, letting the zipper fall. His buldge poked out from his underwear, ready to burst out of them. He pulled out his cock, pushing your shoulder down so that you sat on your knees. You eyed his member, watching how it throbbed in front of you as his hand ruffled through your hair.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty face of yours, and when I’m done,” he glanced over to the bed, his eyes falling to the hooks that would hold your ropes.

“I’ll be sure to put good use of this little dress you put on for me.”

Your heart sank, meeting his low eyes. He smirked at you, tapping his tip against your lip softly. He smeared his head against your lips, groaning at how soft they felt.

“Be a doll and open for me will you?”

You did as you were told, allowing him to slip his length into your mouth. He let out a soft groan, moving his hips slowly. His hand held the back of your head as he fucked your face, being careful to make sure you don’t choke.

He let go of your head, nodding at you to continue while he stood there. You swirled your tongue around his cock head, looking up to see him smirk at you. Drool seeped from the side of your mouth and into your chest, while coating his dick in the process.

Changbin tilted his head at you, sighing at how slow you were being with him. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, making a yelp escape you as you flinched under his touch.

“You think that’s funny, eh?!” You quickly shook your head no, afraid of his sudden remark.

He grabbed your head, shoving his cock back inside of your mouth and fucking you harshly. You gagged repeatedly as his head pushed against the back of your throat, feeling slight mounts of air leaving you. Your teeth grazed against the skin of his length, making a loud groan leave his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck baby..”

He slammed his cock into your mouth, admiring the drool dripping down your chin. Changbin wasn’t average either, oh no. He was big. He had girth and unfortunately for you, he was going to make you take it.

He pushed your head against his dick as he fucked you, throwing his head back in pleasure. Spirts of his precum lined your mouth, his dick throbbing in agony as he tried so hard to hold himself back. His thrust grew harder by the second, unable to keep himself in check as he got sloppy with you.

Hot loads of his cum filled your mouth as he continued to fuck himself through his orgasm. His cum dropped down from your chin onto your chest, nearly choking on as you were helpless with no hands to use.

“That’s it pretty, swallow it all like a good girl.”

Changbin pulled his cock out of you, watching as you licked the remains off his tip. He smirked, dragging you up by your arms and sitting you on the bed.

He undid the ribbon, switching it to one side as he placed another red ribbon on the other. He tied them to the hooks of the bed, keeping you in a position where your ass was facing him. He pulled on the restraints, making sure they were secure before walking over to the dresser and pulling something from ontop of it.

Changbin walked back over to you, pulling down his pants and getting into bed with you. He tied a gag ball around your face, stuffing the gag into your mouth and tied extra ribbon around your ankles, keeping your legs in place so you couldn’t move at all.

“Since you want to walk around like you’re some kind of slut.” he held a vibrator to your clit, turning it onto the highest setting.

“You can get treated like one too.”

He moved the toy against your bud, earning an overwhelming amount of moans and whimpers from you, only for them to be blocked by the gag. He rubbed the head of his cock slowly, watching as your legs shook uncontrollably at the pressure.

“Not so sorry now, huh?”

You stood there helpless as he abused your pussy, body feeling weak as your climax built inside of you. A loud smack rang through your ears, your ass suddenly tingling from the sensation that made you cry out.

“See how obedient you are for me?” he landed another smack to your ass, your skin turning a light shade of red. “That’s how I like you to be.”

He held his dick and rubbed it against your wet entrance before pushing himself in. He groaned in pleasure, taking his thrusts slow as he held the vibrator to your clit. A white ring formed around his member, as you had already let yourself go under the pressure.

“Aw cummed already? I hope you know that I’m not done with you babydoll.”

He held the vibrator against your clit, letting his thrusts fasten as you cried out in pleasure. Your cunt squeezed around him, barely able to take all of him in from how tight you were. You tugged at the bondage, body shaking from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. I gotta open you up.”

Changbin spread your ass slightly, admiring at how stretched out you were becoming for him. Your pussy was swollen from his girth, from the constant abuse he gave it.

You whimpered, struggling to say anything as the gag made it harder for you. He dropped the vibrator, grabbing onto your waist and ramming into your sore cunt. You cried out, begging for him to slow down as his cock forced your walls open. His head brushed against your sweet spot, pounding it with every thrust.

“You’re such a good girl for me baby.” he threw his head back, cursing at the ceiling with every squeeze your cunt gave him.

“Look at how well you’re taking me, fuck.”

He leaned over your fragile body, kissing your back softly. His nails dug into your skin, your ass growing sore from how hard he pounded into you. He grabbed onto your hair, pulling your head back as you whimpered in pleasure.

“Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours baby. Need you leaking.”

Changbin smacked your ass for a last time, sweat trickling down his forehead as you struggled to keep your body from falling apart underneath him.

In no time he let out a loud moan, letting himself go inside of you. He worked his cum into your hole, being sure to not let any spill out of you before pulling out. He watched your hole ache for his size, slightly stretched from the abuse. He kissed your lower back softly, kneading his fingers into your ass.

“Next time you’ll know not to test my patience, isn’t that right doll?”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: YIPPEE DAY 9! lowkey thinking of doing a bonus special when this is all done. i’m thinking twt links for ateez & skz ? 🤭

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

[muletia]

We have Optimus boob lover, we have smokescreen boob lover. I hereby formally request for the ratchet with a big tiddied s/o continuation.

[tfp] ratchet x human!reader explicit, 18+ content

cw: breast play, a pinch of possessiveness

word count: 1100

so who should the next tiddy obsessed bot be?

The silence in Ratchet’s habsuite is broken only by his muttering under his breath. Digits sluggishly swipe at the datapad screen, optics intently scanning the text written in the Cybertronian alphabet — still not entirely familiar to you. Sitting on his lap, however, you’re able to decipher some key words, piecing the rest together with educated guesses to form a somewhat coherent whole, thanks to the lessons taught by none other than your overworked partner.

Trying to keep up with the movement of his optics is currently the most interesting activity available to you. Sure, you finally managed, after many requests and a few stolen kisses, to force him to leave his workstation before he took root there forever. What you didn’t expect was that once he was safe within the four walls of his habsuite, the work would follow him, tormenting his processor even during supposed breaks.

The scientific jargon he’s mumbling is indecipherable to you, but from what you can gather on the datapad, Ratchet is working on completing a formula for synthetic energon. Admirable, yes, but also incredibly irresponsible, considering he hasn’t recharged in weeks, always in a state of readiness to push his processor further. You’d held a small, timid hope that once you were finally alone together, his focus might shift to something else. Like, for instance… you.

You’d come to terms with the fact that sitting on mass-displaced Ratchet’s lap would have to be enough, though your jealousy of his obsession with science toyed with your understanding. Seriously? Having full access to a whole person, your partner, and not being tempted into a round or two? Or at least some cuddling? A nap? Only Ratchet could pull that off.

You sigh quietly and pull your phone from your pocket, bored with following the text. You snuggle deeper into his chassis, one last, silent signal for him to snap out of it and pay attention to you, and tap into the first social media app that comes to mind, already bored after just a few scrolls. It’s shaping up to be a long day.

“Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that sooner…” he mutters for what feels like the thousandth time today, returning to his much more productive scrolling.

You’re just about to try once more to divert his attention when you suddenly feel a large, masculine servo find the hem of your shirt. Without breaking visual focus from his screen, it slides beneath the fabric with graceful, uncanny precision, abandoning its passive rest on the edge of the berth.

“Ratchet?” you ask, not understanding his motives at all.

The medic doesn’t intend to explain either. In response, you get only a distracted hum.

And the servo climbs higher, bypassing your stomach and sternum until it finally finds your left breast.

“Honey, if you want something other than science, you can just say so,” you try again. You tilt your head up, but it seems your partner’s processor is lost in another world entirely.

Oh. So the under-the-shirt offensive was being carried out on autopilot. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, but if his servos instinctively sought a task, perhaps to help him focus, you didn’t want to rob him of that small pleasure. Besides, you appreciated the attention, even if it was synthetic.

At least it gave you material to tease him with later.

The servo sneaks behind your bra and latches onto your breast, immediately applying pressure to the soft flesh. Digits sink into it like a sponge, then release, only to squeeze again, this time with his thumb gently stroking the top of it.

And despite having no doubt that your breasts are currently being used as Ratchet’s personal stress balls, he still maintains a calculated gentleness in everything he does; years of medical practice sculpting his servos into tools of ever finer precision.

That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still providing stimulation, sending lightning bolts of need racing down to the lower part of your stomach, where they gather with every squeeze and teasing flick of your nipple, sometimes so intentional, there’s no way you could chalk it up to mindless distraction. He was too good at this, your modest Casanova, for you to forgive him for toying with your poor, overstimulated breast, squeezed and released over and over again.

No longer able to sit still, you start squirming in his lap. Any concern about disturbing his work is now pushed aside, as he plays with your desire and walks the fine line of your patience. You try to slide away, escape the torture, but Ratchet surprises you once more, lowering his chin onto the top of your head, effectively pinning you in place on his lap.

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetspark,” he whispers.

“Oh, so now science’s not the only thing on your mind?” you reply with sarcasm, earning a soft snort of amusement.

“It hasn’t been for a while now,” he confesses. He squeezes your breast again and kisses the top of your head. “Primus, they’re so soft,” he murmurs.

You hadn’t even noticed when he set the datapad aside, freeing his other servo, which immediately gets to work, wrapping around your other breast. Now he kneads them in sync, but every so often his digits also pinch at a nipple, making you squirm from the electric buildup and warmth now churning just above your crotch.

“You promised me a nice break from work, didn’t you?” he asks between a cascade of kisses trailing down your neck. “I’m still waiting for you to make good on that promise.”

“Finally! I was starting to think you’d never tear yourself away from that datapad.”

With your fingers, you give him a quick signal to lift his servos off your breasts for a moment, just long enough for you to shift and turn around, now straddling his lap, able to admire his tired but still awe-struck faceplate, brimming with love and desire. Servos immediately return to their rightful place, massaging the plush flesh, while you begin working to get rid of your pants.

“Go on, sweetspark,” he whispers right by your neck. “Let me see them.”

So you grant his request, pulling off your shirt and bra first. Now, the only thing covering you are his servos, clutching your breasts in a possessive, primitive grip.

“Beautiful. The most wonderful,” he says, his optics locked on your chest like a predator fixated on prey.

He releases one servo, but before you can feel the cold air of the habsuite nip at your sensitive skin, Ratchet engulfs one of your breasts with his intake, at the same time retracting his interface panel. A surprisingly swollen spike drops against your bare stomach, smearing transfluid across your skin like pink paint on a canvas — signaling clearly that he needs all of you, and that your breasts alone are no longer enough.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Say my Name, As if it’s Drowning in the Tide - Jayce x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: But Jayce is weak. So unbelievably weak. And the voice of temptation in the back of his mind insists you will never want him the same way he does you. It’s cowardly, and it’s spineless, and it goes against everything he’s ever been taught to value. Yet none of it seems to matter when he looks at you, bare in front of him, hair wet and sticking to your skin in heavy curls like a siren in the stormy sea. He’d sell his soul if it meant having you, and in more ways than one, he is.

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Modern AU, one-sided Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Explicit

Tags: Hate Sex, Emotional Roleplay, One-sided Attraction, Grinding, Dry-Humping, Premature Ejaculation, Coming Untouched, Switch!Jayce, Rough Kissing, Biting, Shower Sex, Angst, One Bed

Notes: I love my pathetic son Jayce, so I needed to make him just a bit wetter and sadder for… reasons. This is a two-parter, because it was looking too heavy as a one-shot and the second part still needs a bit more attention. I need to stop having too many multi-chapter projects at the same time before I go insane. Anyway, enjoy ❤️!!

(Chapter 2/End)

You tap your fingers on the wooden countertop, trying to remain calm despite the growing pressure inside your skull.

“And you're sure there's not a single other room left ?” you ask with a tense smile, your teeth grinding against each other almost audibly.

The receptionist gives you yet another blank stare. She's hardly older than seventeen, probably helping out her parent's business, and clearly not paid enough to care about whether or not you stay or go.

“No, ma'am, there are no other rooms available for the duration of your stay,” she repeats robotically. It's as if you've been stuck in the same dialogue tree for half an hour with a badly programmed NPC. “We're a family-owned business, and we only have ten rooms available at once. Your reservation was for a single bedroom, not two.”

The exaggerated sound of her slowly chewing gum is driving you insane. “She's just doing her job’, you have to remind yourself. It's not her fault, you know that; plus, if there's anybody to blame, it's Jayce.

You turn towards the culprit in question, large shoulders slightly slumped and eyes escaping your glare. Pathetic.

“Seriously, Jayce?” you state in disbelief. “I asked you to do one thing for the trip.”

Jayce visibly takes offence to that, raising one stupidly large hand in objection:

“That's not fair, I was also taking care of bringing the prototype!”

“And I signed us up to the conference,” you hiss back. “I prepared our lecture. I got our bus tickets here and back. I made our itinerary for the whole three days. I even wrote down where we could go to bring back souvenirs for Sky and Viktor!”

You point an accusing finger at him, tapping it against his chest:

“The only thing I wanted you to take care of was the fucking motel. And you couldn't even do that right!”

He throws up both hands in exasperation, rolling his eyes. If there wasn't a minor in the same room, you'd have no qualms about punching him.

“Fine, alright, I messed up, what do you want me to say? ‘I'm sorry I'm such an idiot'?”

You exhale in frustration, throwing him one last resentful look before turning back to the receptionist: “Yeah, that would be a good start”, you scoff under your breath.

He makes a dramatic groan of annoyance behind you, like this entire situation isn't his fault.

The Academy barely gives you enough budget to attend two national mechanical engineering conferences a year. You had originally planned to go to this one with Viktor, specifically because of its location: nice and remote, the air fresh and relaxing, the few roads leading to the major cities surrounded by millennial trees and mountain peaks. The perfect place for a spark of romance to ignite between the two of you.

Unfortunately, Viktor had already scheduled a weekend seminar on the exact same date as the conference. Sky, your fourth and youngest lab partner, wasn't equipped enough to help you present all the complex features of the university's mechanical arm project. Only one other person could.

Jayce fucking Talis, and his magical ability to never do anything right.

“We'll just get our money back and find another place to crash,” he argues, walking up next to you to the counter, resting his weight against it; it creaks disapprovingly. “It doesn't have to be a whole thing.”

“I'm sorry sir,” the teen flatly interjects, still smacking the gum between her brace-clad teeth. Squish, squish. “But we require cancellations to be made 24 hours prior to the reservation. We cannot reimburse you as per the politics you have agreed to on our website.”

You'd probably get more interactive answers from a chatbot. Jayce kneads the lines on his forehead, his practiced megawatt smile starting to crack from fatigue. The girl stares at him with neither sympathy nor sadness; she brings her lips together to form a small pink bubble, letting it burst after a few seconds. Pop.

“Okay, you know what,” Jayce sighs in defeat, “I'll pay for our rooms somewhere else. It's on me. As an apology.”

This would be an excellent time to not subtly sneak in a remark on how he's always using his parent's money to get himself out of the messes he's created, but the teen speaks up again before you get a chance to:

“Sir,” she adds with her irritatingly nasal voice. “You should know the only other motel in the area only accepts new reservations until 9 pm.”

She nods pointedly towards an old grandfather clock on the wall, and the two of you look at it in sync: it's 9:06.

Now you're genuinely hesitating between strangling her or Jayce.

“You really know how to make a guy feel better, huh?” Jayce attempts with a weak laugh, the plastic smile crumbling a little further.

She only gives him a vacant gaze.

Your legs are aching from the long ride in the overcrowded bus, and the arduous walk to the motel with half the disassembled prototype on your back. You've been dreaming of laying down on a bed for the last three hours, and even if another inn was open nearby, you doubt you'd have the will to carry everything there.

“I don't care anymore,” you sigh, massaging the side of your temple to relieve some of the built-up tension. “I'm exhausted, and we need to rest if we want to be any good tomorrow morning. We'll just figure it out upstairs.”

Jayce makes a non-committal sound of agreement; if you had more energy, you'd angrily ask him if he has any better ideas he'd like to share. But you don't, so you just focus back on the unexcited receptionist. Ironically enough, the letters on her cropped shirt spell ‘GOOD VIBES ONLY’.

“We'll take the room,” you conclude, worn out.

The teen barely blinks as she inputs something into her old computer, the vintage monitor buzzing unpleasantly before she hands you two scratched keycards mechanically.

“Room 207. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay at Grizzly Country Motel,” she deadpans.

You mumble a thank you, but she either doesn't hear or chooses to ignore it in favour of going back to her cell phone, like your entire interaction had been nothing more than chasing away a couple of flies.

Jayce at least has the decency to grab both your luggage and his before you both head towards the stairs; if he’s got all those muscles, he might as well put them to use. You feel a pang of annoyance at how easily he carries the bags that you struggled to hold the entire day.

“Don't you think it's weird when they say ‘we’?” he mumbles pensively as you go up the stairway. “It's like everyone who works at a hotel is in a hivemind.”

You can't even find the will to look back and glare at him.

“No, Talis, I was actually thinking about how I'd fix all the problems you've created,” you reply drily.

You reach the second floor, knees buckling. Room 201, 202, 203…

“You'll just take half the bed and I'll take the other half,” Jayce pipes up from behind you, grunting as he pulls the last bag up. “We'll put a pillow in the middle. It'll be like nothing even happened.”

Oh, to be in the mind of Jayce Talis, where the universe is so fucking simple and accountability is a myth.

You hate how he always has an answer for everything, like it’s all so easy for him. You've fought hard to reach this point — to earn your place in the Academy, to be seen as a true scientist, breaking through barriers in a field where women remain the minority. It’s taken blood, sweat, and tears, years of effort that people like Viktor and Sky understand and respect.

Room 204, 205, 206…

But for Jayce Talis, it’s all sunshine, rainbows, and candy-colored skies. His family owns one of the largest metallurgy companies in the country, and has stocks invested in some of the biggest steel producers on the globe. He’s never had to work a single day in his life to put himself through school, never had to sacrifice anything for his dreams. You don’t think there’s a single thing he’s ever actually had to put effort in: he barely studies and still aces all his classes, hardly puts any care into his appearance, yet always looks like he’s out of the cover of the Times’ 50 Most Desirable Men. It’s infuriating to an unspeakable degree.

Room 207.

You tap one of the keycards on the handle, letting out a small sigh of relief when the mechanism beeps joyfully. Today hasn't been ideal, but at least, you're only a few feet away from a soft, comfortable bed.

You open the door, walking in with little decorum. It's small and bare, as you expected: a single window dulled by years of exposure, a box TV taken straight from the nineties, a dingy light fixture barely illuminating a greyed-out wallpaper of a forest scene, and…

“Talis,” you pause. He almost bumps into your back, fumbling with the bags in his arms.

“What?” he asks in confusion, peering over your shoulder. “Oh,” he simply says when he sees the issue.

“Talis,” you repeat slowly, trying to maintain your tone even, despite how badly you want to scream. “This is a single bed.”

Indeed, not only is there only one bed, it's evidently sized for a single person. It's ridiculously tiny. It doesn't take a genius to see that with someone of Jayce's stature, you'd have to practically sleep on top of him if you wanted to share the bed.

“Wait, I swear I asked for doubles for both of us-” he protests immediately.

“It's fine,” you cut him off, despite it being the exact opposite. The headache is getting worse, and you don't feel like arguing with him any more than you already have. “I'll take the bed tonight, and you take the floor, and we alternate tomorrow.”

Jayce puts all the bags down on the carpeted floor, visibly dejected.

“Again, I'm really sorry about this,” he mumbles, and even though you can tell it's genuine, it doesn't make you feel any better. Every ambigious prejudice you might have had against him has just confirmed itself: he’s a spoiled mama’s boy, who isn’t able to navigate the real world alone, and who’ll simply cry when he messes up things for everyone else.

“Whatever,” you grumble, sitting tiredly on the edge of the puny bed that groans painfully under your weight; it doesn't even have the decency to be comfortable. “Just means I'll have to take care of everything if we ever do symposium together again.”

He looks like a scolded puppy, unmoving, eyes avoidant, his large frame blocking the doorway. Jayce is extremely talented at making people pity him, with his huge citrine eyes and perfectly rosy cheeks. It almost makes you hesitate before adding the next words, but bitterness takes the upper hand: “This is the kind of mistake Viktor never makes.”

He doesn't reply.

You can tell that hurt him just as much as you intended with the way his body slightly curves inwards, his fits visibly clenching inside his pockets. Well, good. He's old and smart enough to know actions have consequences. He's supposed to be your partner, not a child you're babysitting.

“I'm…gonna go take a shower,” he hesitantly adds after a few tense seconds. “I'm still sweaty from the bus ride. Is that… okay with you?”

You shrug with disinterest; you know you’re just being petty now, but thinking of everything that could have been, had it been Viktor on this trip and not him, is leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Fine by me. I'll take mine right after.”

He waits a moment, like he's expecting you to add something else; maybe extend the olive branch. When you don't provide, he sighs, making his way to the bathroom door and closing it behind him.

You let your body fall back on the mattress with a heavy ‘oomph’. It's not as uncomfortable as it first seemed; it's firm, but the covers are soft, and the single pillow feels nicely fluffed. A couple might actually be pretty cozy in this bed, one body on top of the other, their libs entangled lovingly. It could have been you and Viktor.

Viktor.

Viktor, and his honey-coloured eyes. Viktor, and his teasing smile that makes your heart skip a beat. Viktor, and the way his long fingers twirl in his chestnut hair when he's focused, the way he absentmindedly licks his bottom lip when he's lost in thought. Viktor, and-

“Hey, um,” Jayce's booming voice from the other room interrupts your reverie. “C'mere for a sec?”

You groan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut. Maybe if you pretend he isn't there, he'll disappear all on his own.

“No, seriously,” he insists.

No luck. You get up lethargically, cursing the man under your breath.

“Left side with the red is hot, right side with the blue is cold, Talis,” you ironize. You open the door to the bathroom to see him standing in front of the shower door, thankfully still fully clothed. “Do you need help opening the shampoo bottle, too?”

He glares back at you in annoyance:

“Fuck off. Look.”

He nods towards a paper sign you hadn't noticed tapped on the glass panel, amateurishly plastified with a clear file folder.

[PLEASE DO NOT USE THE SHOWER MORE THAN ONCE A DAY. 10 MINUTES OF HOT WATER PER ROOM]

Well, you were wrong. Jayce Talis isn't just a forgetful idiot with bad luck.

He's a fucking curse.

“The room and the bed, I could forgive,” you start, fuming. But the shower?!”

“How was I supposed to know?!” he yells back melodramatically. “You told me to find something cheap to not go over budget!”

You shove him in frustration, only getting more annoyed when it doesn't make his stupidly huge body move a single inch:

“I didn't mean you should book a fucking dumpster!”

A loud, pointed knock echoing from beyond the bathroom wall silences you both.

Delightful. The neighbours can hear everything.

You move a step away from Jayce, the width of the bathroom not allowing much in terms of distancing.

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath. You aren’t, but it's that or getting kicked out of the only open motel in miles for a noise complaint. “Yelling isn't gonna lead us anywhere. You can take five minutes, and I'll take the other five. It's gonna be short, but that's probably the best we can do.”

He at least has the decency to look appreciative, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“I can give you the whole ten minutes, to apologize. This is my fault,” he admits. It’s always like this with him, as if his never-ending self-pity cleanses him of any possible wrongdoing. You despise that.

“And have you stink up the whole place smelling like a football locker room? No way,” you scrunch up your nose. Just by sharing a workspace with him, you know Jayce has the hygiene skills of a teenage boy who thinks Axe body spray and cologne make sweat magically vanish; the sheer power of the unholy combination would keep you awake all night.

“Or…” Jayce trails on for a few uncharacteristically long seconds. He's usually more the type to say things before reflecting on them, but he's pinching his lips tightly, clearly hesitant about what he's going to add next. “…We could share the shower?”

You look at him with an expression frozen between incomprehension and disgust: “What?”

“I mean, it's big enough for two people to stand without touching,” he quickly justifies, raising his hands innocently. “I could take the flexible hose, and you'd just go under the showerhead. That way we'd both get ten minutes!”

He's using the overly excited voice he takes on whenever he's giving someone his sales pitch for a new, stupid idea he's had. It might work wonders on most, but you know better than to fall for it.

“So you're that desperate to see me naked?” you sneer.

“I'm trying to be helpful here!” he complains.

If you're being honest, it's not that bad of an idea. The shower is small in width, but it's quite long, making it a very viable option for two people to use at once. If you manoeuver everything right, it'll almost be like you're taking a long, nice ten-minute shower on your own.

“Fine,” you capitulate, making sure to enunciate the word painfully slowly so he knows you're not doing it out of the kindness of your heart. “But if you tell anyone this happened, especially Viktor, I'm cutting off your balls and using them to-”

“Yeah, got it, wouldn't want Viktor to think you like me,” he taunts mockingly, puckering his lips in a false kiss at the other man's name.

It's the first time you've agreed to an idea from Jayce, and you're already regretting it.

“Just shut up and get in the fucking shower,” you spit out, going back to the main room without sparing him another look. “Face the wall and call me when you're done. There’s no reason for this to be weird.”

—

He’s hard.

Very obviously and undeniably hard.

Jayce has been splashing his face with cold water for the last few minutes, to no avail. He's tried every technique he can possibly think of: running in place, breathing exercises, imagining his abuelita naked, nothing is working.

The only thing he can visualize is your body, completely bare in that shower, only a few inches away from his. The water pouring down from your hair to your shoulders, to your breasts, and then alongside the curves of your thighs, and your ass-

“Shut up,” he mumbles to himself in the empty bathroom.

It's not a secret to anyone that Jayce likes you. Neither is it a secret that you're utterly uninterested and only have eyes for Viktor, except perhaps for Viktor himself. It's kind of unfair how two-thirds of Viktor's lab partners are in love with him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get it, and that his eyes never lingered on that little mole above Viktor's lip for longer than they should have. But damn it, he wants you. He wants you to want him. Is that such an unfair thing to ask for?

You've got so much fight, so much fire in you, and he gets dizzy off the smouldering look in your eyes whenever you disagree with him. And disagree, you do: he wants to use lithium batteries, you want to use sodium. He wants to focus on reducing energy intake for the prototype, you want to focus on adding new components to it. He offers to order pizza for the group after a long day of work, you'll hear of nothing but sushi.

It drives him insane, but less in a way that makes him despise you, and more in one that makes him angrily rub his cock raw every night at the thought of that angry pout on your lips.

“-ayce! You alive in there?” comes your voice from the other room. He groans in frustration. This is a spectacular disaster in the making, and he's sitting front and center for it.

He's made his own bed and now he has to lie in it.

“You can come in!” he yells back with a noticeable crack in his voice. Not a great start.

His heart skips a beat when he hears the door creak open and close. The rustling of clothes being taken off one by one, the sound of pants dropping on the tile floor, and the unmistakable click of a bra being unhooked.

The door to the shower slides, and he feels you enter the confined space. It's ridiculous how close you are to him; he can smell the sweat off your skin, the faded scent of your perfume. His cock gives a small twitch and he glares down at it in betrayal. ‘Not now!’

You don't say a word as you turn on the faucet, the old plumbing in the walls hissing slightly before water starts to pour down on the both of you. He's not usually one for the cold, but it's refreshing, washing away the feeling of stickiness on his skin. He hums under his breath in delight; maybe it'll actually just be an awkward but relaxing shower, in the end.

The temperature rises slowly but surely, from cool to tepid, tepid to lukewarm, and then… it stops. He waits a few more seconds, throwing a discreet glance behind him to find you haven't fully turned the faucet on the hot side.

“Could you… put it warmer?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“It's plenty warm enough as is,” you reply flatly.

Now you're lying just to go against him; it's barely any warmer than if he was bathing outside in the lake.

“Why would you even fight for the hot water if you're not gonna use it?” he mumbles.

You moan dramatically in complaint: “Fine, princess, I'll bump it up.”

He sees your hand reach for the faucet, grab it… and bring it less than a centimetre closer to the warm side.

“Seriously?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, seriously, now start washing your greasy hair before there's no hot water left at all,” you scold him, like he's nothing more than a snivelling toddler, and not a man twice your size.

Alright, enough is enough.

“What are you-” you protest at his sudden movement, his bicep pressing up against your shoulder.

“I'm turning the hot water on so I don't die in here,” he snaps back, trying to get a feel for the faucet while still looking away from you for the sake of modesty.

“Absolutely not, stay on your side!” you admonish him angrily. You attempt to push him back, pointedly refusing to look in his direction as you blindly slap his arm away. “Wait, Jayce-”

It happens too fast for either of you to figure out what's happening. One minute you're back to back, a respectable distance from one another, and the next you've both slipped, his arms boxing you into the narrow side of the shower with your legs bumping together.

Your eyes are locked into his for a few long, painful seconds. Neither of you are moving. You're trapped in a precarious game of jenga, where you can't even see which parts can safely be removed without you collapsing on each other.

“Whatever you do,” you exhale slowly. “Don't look down.”

You visibly regret your words as soon as you say them; you must have forgotten it’s Jayce you’re talking to.

He immediately looks down.

You put an arm up over your chest with an indignant yelp, and he quickly defends himself:

“Why would you tell me to not look down? That's like saying ‘Don't think of an elephant’!”

You're staying silent, your lips into a tight line, but he's certain you're thinking of an elephant right now. He smiles boastfully and you shoot him a deadly glare, before looking away to the side. It's the first time he's ever seen that awkward little blush on your cheeks without the conversation being about Viktor. That's a win in his book.

“It's fine,” you repeat once more like a broken record, and it’s definitely more meant to reassure yourself than to keep up a pleasant conversation with him. “I'll just… squish back against the wall while you close your eyes, and I'll direct you back to the other side. No problem.”

You sound less convinced than he's ever heard you before. He must have succeeded in turning the faucet to the side during the whole debacle, because the water has grown noticeably warmer, clouds of steam starting to form in the air. The atmosphere inside the shower is shifting ever so slightly.

He doesn't want to move.

He doesn't want to close his eyes.

The colour of your cheeks has grown darker from the heat, your lips slightly parted around every audible respiration.

“Would you wanna stay like this… if it was with Viktor?” he asks breathlessly.

You look back at him with genuine confusion, and he's honestly just as surprised as you are.

“What?”

“I…” It's getting harder to think. All his blood is rushing south, leaving him dangerously light-headed. What is he saying? “I… asked if you'd stay like this if it wasn't me in the shower. If it was Viktor.”

Your frown deepens. Your eyebrows always do this cute little thing where one furrows just slightly more than the other, but he's never gotten to observe it from this close. He lets his thoughts travel into dangerous territory. Do you wear that same expression when you're on your knees, sucking some other guy off? Would you look like that for Viktor?

“I don't see how that's relevant,” you retort harshly, but your gaze is elusive. You can't hide from him, not when his face is merely inches away from yours.

“Humor me,” he requests again.

“Fine, yeah, I would! Are you happy now?” you snap, eyes locking back into his with fiery resentment.

You're embarrassed.

He's never seen you rattled like this before. The energy in the shower is electric, now, coursing through his veins like a drug. ‘There will never be another moment like this’, the voice in the back of his head provides, syrupy sweet. It’s without a doubt the worst idea he’s ever had in his life, but he can’t stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.

“I could show you what he's into,” he almost whispers, the deafening sound of water hitting the ceramic flooring almost too loud for him to hear himself.

He knows that you've heard him with the way your eyes widen, your breath hitching in your throat.

“I mean, guys, we talk,” he explains, the words now coming out of him like the rambles of a madman. He’s in too deep to back out: it’s sink or swim. “About the stuff we like, the stuff we dream about. I could tell you what he's told me, and you can practice. On me.”

An eternity passes before you speak again, mouth just barely agape. But you're not yelling at him. You're not slapping him in the face. In fact, you're not even frowning; the expression you’re wearing is oddly vulnerable and open, like you're seeing him in a different light than you ever have before.

“You're fucking gross, Talis,” you breathe out slowly. “You really think I'm that easy?”

This*,* whatever this is, is so fragile he’s scared of shattering it by being too loud. Like he’s talking to a wild animal.

“I don't,” he promises in a low voice. “But I think you're smart, and dedicated, and you wouldn't let an opportunity to know something so personal about Viktor pass you by.”

The steam has fully blurred the glass panels around the both of you, and it feels like you're inside one of those snow globes Jayce's mother used to bring back for him from her travels when he was a kid. It's weirdly ethereal, warm and cold, frozen out of any known space and time. He’s never heard you stay silent this long, and the anticipation makes his throat burn.

“Fine,” you finally say. “But if you tell anyone-”

“Yeah I know, you'll cut my balls off,” he lets out with a small laugh, slightly delirious. He's half convinced he's dreaming. “Are we good?”

You nod without a word, shifting your head to the side slightly to avoid his gaze. He hesitantly brings a hand to your chin, holding it like you're made of glass. You don't recoil at his touch, so he gently presses it upwards, making you look at him again.

“Viktor likes it when people kiss him softly,” he smiles shyly, his heart beating as loudly in his chest as it did for his very first kiss. It’s like he’s watching a movie, like none of it is truly real. He closes the gap between the two of you slowly, waiting for you to pull away; but you don't. Your lips meet his, and it's everything he could have ever wanted.

You taste of rainwater and cherry chapstick. You’re soft in the way described by jazzy love songs, smooth and electric, a puzzle piece that just feels so unbelievably right. He wants to wrap his arms around you, hold you so tight this never has to come to an end, leave marks on your skin no shower could ever get rid of.

But he doesn't. He can't.

This is a fantasy that’s only animated by mutual gain. It’s not the climax of a romance film where the hero finally gets to kiss the heroine under the rain.

But God, does he want to pretend it is.

You pull away first, and he doesn't miss it: the millisecond where your eyes open and you look at him like he's the one you want to be kissing. The almost imperceptible moment where you're still imagining you're kissing Viktor and not him, where your irises shine brightly with so much happiness and love.

But it's already gone, like it never even happened, and you quickly wipe your lips with the back of your hand. You’re not in a beautiful London street amid a gentle downpour with your soulmate: you’re in a cramped shower in a motel, with a guy you don’t even vaguely care for.

“You should shave your stubble. It's annoying,” you mumble.

‘Viktor doesn't have one’, the sentence heavily implies. It stings, but he's not about to back off just from that either. Not when he's been given a chance like this.

“Viktor also likes it when kissing is a bit of a fight,” he adds, sounding much too eager and desperate for his own liking. “Biting, tugging hair, that kind of stuff.”

It's not a lie, per se; he's only ever seen Viktor kiss someone once, when they were undergrads. It was an end-of-semester party, and Viktor had had way too many vodka red bulls for a man of his stature and health. Jayce had found him on a couch, limbs entangled with a stranger who seemed equally as drunk, and absolutely devouring their face off.

Viktor had asked him to never let him near caffeinated cocktails again the next morning.

You look slightly skeptical, analyzing him for any signs of deception; it looks as though you find none, because you're the one who initiates this time, and there you are, the fiery woman he's fallen head over heels for.

You're going to war on him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, savagely shoving your tongue in his mouth, one hand entangled in the hair at the back of his head while the other ferociously holds his throat in place, nails digging into his heartbeat. He responds eagerly, letting you mistreat him, encouraging you with muffled groans.

It hurts, and he wants it to never end. He can taste blood in his mouth, the metallic tinge making him dizzy, and he's so hard he could cum if you just touched his dick with a finger. He whines pathetically when you break the kiss for air, disoriented, a strand of saliva connecting you both still.

“A-aouch,” he can only manage to say jokingly.

You lean back against the tile wall, slightly breathless; you wipe away drops of red on your lip, smudging them down towards your chin, the look of a feral animal in your pupils. He feels his already rock-hard cock twitch. Hot.

“This is about what Viktor likes, not what you like. Toughen up, Talis,” you spit back.

Before he has time to formulate a reply, you're back on him, and now he's incapable of stopping himself from humping your thigh like an animal. You don't refuse him or push him away, even mercifully angelling your hip to the side to give him easier access. There's nothing but you, all over him, inside of him, tearing him apart and putting him back together. It's absolutely pathetic, and he knows it, but he can feel his release arriving in the pit of his stomach. He's wanted this for so long, there's just no way to delay it anymore.

It only takes a few more seconds before his orgasm hits him hard, the wave of pleasure making his whole body still as a plank, while you're still sucking harshly the vein on the side of his neck. He cries out once, broken and wanton, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice.

He comes down from the high in time to see the last of his cum painting your hip white before it gets washed away with the water. You detach yourself from him unceremoniously, putting some distance between your bodies with a frown.

“Did you just…?”

There's no room for pretending here. He's just had one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of his life from nothing but a fucking kiss from you. It's like he's a teenager all over again, face redder than a tomato and eyes escaping yours guiltily.

“You came. You came by just making out with me,” you repeat, visibly caught halfway between incredulity and mockery.

“I just haven't gotten laid in a while, that's it!” he justifies vehemently. He needs to change the topic quickly, or you’ll never let him live this down. “I'm always busy at the lab doing the paperwork you always skip out on!”

That thankfully seems to take your attention away from his premature accident; he's never been so grateful for your short temper.

“Seriously? You’re going to bring that up right now?” you bark, shoving him in the chest angrily.

He can still turn this around. He might not have much control over his first release, today ridiculously so, but he's been blessed with excellent stamina and a very short recovery period. Jayce is good at selling himself with speeches, and even though you're usually immune to anything that comes out of his mouth, he's willing to cheat this once and use the one chink in your armour he knows about.

“Do you want to know what Viktor likes or not? Because I haven't told you anything about what he wants in bed,” he tempts you in a tone of indifference.

Your silence speaks volumes; he's got you again. Yes, it's incredibly manipulative, and when this is over he's going to spend hours turning over in his bed and despising himself. He’s always believed in doing things the fair way, the right way, and that one day he’d manage to lower your defences and etch a place into your heart all of his own merits.

But Jayce is weak. So unbelievably weak. And the voice of temptation in the back of his mind insists you will never want him the same way he does you. It’s cowardly, and it’s spineless, and it goes against everything he’s ever been taught to value. Yet none of it seems to matter when he looks at you, bare in front of him, hair wet and sticking to your skin in heavy curls like a siren in the stormy sea. He’d sell his soul if it meant having you, and in more ways than one, he is.

What kind of man does that make him?

That’s a thought he’ll just have to keep for later.

Taglist Darlings: @soniiyi , @mischievous-piltovan, @urfavlarry , @luv-urself-first, @girlidkthinkofsmth , @starflesh-moth

[dxxdhood]

Okayyyyyy your sub!Wade Wilson fic literally destroyed me and I need like a million more consider yourself my new dealer

(If reqs are open can I get uhhhhh Wade Wilson where he's needy but has no idea what he wants so reader has to shut his brain off and figure it out for him pls and thanks)

hi anon, i love this idea so much omg! i may have played around with it a bit but i think i still kept the same core idea. i went with fem! reader on this, but if you want a similar request with gn! or male! reader, let me know! pls enjoy!!!

rough night

pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

summary: wade needs your love and attention, and luckily, you're always there to help him out.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, light bondage, grinding, clothed sex, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, car sex

wc: 2.0k

“Okay, babe, hear me out: the ending to the stage version of Little Shop is leagues better than whatever deus ex machina crap they had to throw into the last two minutes of the movie. Cowardly movie-goer audiences can not handle true stage-level tragedy–”

“Wade!” You shout, nearly swerving the car as you double check the directions. Past midnight on the freeway after a long day, you barely had the concentration to drive in silence– much less in a car with your partner in it. “Can you help me get us home first before we start arguing over musical movies again. Please?”

Wade hums, tapping his scarred hand against the console, “That’s a big ask, I’m not so sure I can, to tell you the truth. You wanna talk about musical movies? Can we talk about how big The Greatest Showman got when the score is nothing but pop songs? Look, I get the lead actor looks like my crazy-hot new best friend, but the 2010s had way better stuff coming out.”

Turning his head so you could see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he whistles a note before speaking. “You missed our exit, by the way.”

“What?” You double check the GPS to make sure he’s not lying. Sure enough, he’s right. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Oh, you know. Typical Deadpool, just pissing off everyone around him all the time for no reason,” he chimes in again, and something about his tone sets you off. You speed across the next available ramp, and after the few seconds it takes for you to end up on a deserted road, you stop the car.

Taking a deep inhale, you make sure to hit the inside light so he can see you properly, and you grab the arm still fidgeting next to you. “Wade, what’s up with you?”

His eyes go large, and his expression loses all the mischief immediately. Shaking his head a little, he purses his lips. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

“Let’s just get home,” he says after an empty moment, almost like he’s booting up again. “You can yell at me the entire way back, okay? I was being a pain in the ass. I’ll take it lying down, promise.”

Seeing him in the dim, yellow lighting, he’s trying to retreat into his hoodie. He’s pulling away from you even as he speaks, and it makes your stomach turn.

“Let’s–” you start, unbuckling your seatbelt before gripping the door handle.  “Let’s just take a second first.”

You catch a wash of confusion on his face, but you exit the car and walk over to his side before he voices his thoughts out loud. Opening his door, you quickly envelope him in a hug before he can try to pull away again.

You swear you heard a whimper, but it was so quiet, you nearly missed it. Almost instantly, Wade buries his head in your neck, and his arms wrap around your middle tight. 

The two of you stay there, alone, with the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background for what feels like a small eternity. You know it must have only been a few minutes, because shortly, your thighs burn from the angle you’re bending at, so you gently pull away. You decide not to mention the wetness left on your shirt.

“What do you need?” You ask.

He shakes his head again, but faster this time. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why I was trying to piss you off.”

“Today was fine, right? I thought so, but all of sudden everything felt like it was going to shit. In my head, I just started going around in circles, going over all the little ways I kept fucking up, and – I don’t know – it got to me.” Wade brings a palm to his forehead. “It’s just one of those hate-yourself days, I guess.” 

You nod, taking one of his hands in yours as you stand on the dying grass surrounding the road. Rubbing his palm with your thumb, trying to transfer some of your warmth to him, you’re suddenly met with an idea so good, you can keep inside the chuckle. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You choke. “Not laughing at you, I just– I just think it’s funny where my brain goes.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you with pupils so big, you just want to go back to squeezing him. 

“Well, we’re all alone out here.”

You can almost see the loading screen in Wade’s mind when he breaks out in a laugh. “No way, I finally found someone worse than me.”

“Would you want to?”

He’s nodding before he can even process, but after a second a frown sets in. “You know I’m always down to clown around, but I’d just be a burden right now. I’m all sad and icky and touchy-feely. I don’t even know what I–”

“You want me to handle it?” you interrupt. “I’ll just do stuff we’ve liked doing in the past. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll make it all good for you.”

Wade turns his head away, and for a terrifying moment, you believe you’ve made him uncomfortable. But a part of him wins whatever fight is going on eternally, and when he faces you again, a blush coats his cheeks.“You’d do that?”

“You think I’m offering ‘cause I like hearing myself talk?”

“You have the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard,” he smiles, and not having learned anything, you bend down again to kiss him. He responds fast, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek as he pulls you in closer. No matter how much of you he gets, he always finds himself needing more.

You push his hood down and you carefully run your hands across his scalp, cradling his head, as you deepen the kiss. Licking inside his mouth, you feel more than hear a rumble build in his chest.

Breaking away, you pull your sweater off before laying it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. Stepping to the side, you give Wade a second to process before you order him.

“Kneel.”

He definitely mumbles a soft “holy shit” as he slips out of the car and drops to his knees. Briefly, you run your hands across his shoulders, kneading at the intersection between his shoulders and neck, feeling the tense muscle there. Typical Wade to cause problems instead of talking about his own. Just how long was he carrying around all of this tension? Maybe when you’re both home later, at what will probably be the crack of dawn, you can run him a warm bath or give him a better massage.

For right now, you slip past him and sit in the car seat above him. Angled so your legs dangle out the car door opening, you place a hand around the back of Wade’s neck and urge him closer.

“You ready?” You whisper. “You want to eat me out, Wade?”

He buries his head into your thigh at your words as he lets out a groan, “Yes, please, oh my god.”

Grabbing both of your legs, he lifts them onto his shoulder and he already starts to move his head closer in between them.

“Hold on,” you grab one of his hands, interlocking your fingers. “Here, help me move one of my legs off your shoulder and against your dick.”

To his credit, he does, even as he shivers at your words. As he scooches around, trying to get comfortable or maybe just hungry for more sensation already, you feel his cock half hard.

“You’ve been wanting this, huh? Wanting me to boss you around a little,” you whisper, inching your head closer to his so you can whisper in his ear. “Wanting to hear dirty things in my voice?”

“Yes!’ he shouts. “Yes, please! Can I eat you out, babe? I’ll be good!”

“”Course you will be,” you smile. “You’re always so good for me.”

With a little maneuvering around your legs, you manage to slip your shorts and underwear off, accidentally tossing them into the darkness.

Wade frowns, his brow creasing, “No, I haven’t been very good lately–”

On command, you grab his chin and tilt it so his gaze rests on yours. There’s no hiding from your words now. “Don’t say that. Stop talking.”

“You don’t feel good?” you smirk. “Then prove to me right now how good you can really be.”

He needs no further encouragement as he buries his face between your thighs, already licking across you, teasing you even now. His pace is quick, desperate, but he’s still careful to avoid where you need him most.

With one hand perched at the top of his head, you scratch the other down his neck as a warning, but all it does is draw a moan from him. You can feel the vibrations through you, and it causes you to grind across his mouth.

Panting heavily, you decide to even the score. You press your calf up against his hard cock, inching it backwards and forwards, bit by bit, and that’s all it takes for Wade to remember his own needs. Wanting  you already, he slowly grinds against your leg, and though it feels harsh through his pants, from past experience as well as the wet groans filling the air, you’re sure Wade enjoys it.

Suddenly, he decides to circle your clit in earnest, and it draws a loud moan from you. You begin to grind yourself against his tongue, still somehow working you with coordinated movements despite how out-of-control he humps your leg.

His whimpers slip out of him, as if he’s been completely fucked dumb just by getting off on your leg. The power is heady, and you move your hands to his, wrapping them around his wrists and bringing them in front of him to settle right in front of his stomach. Once you’re sure you’ve got a secure grasp, you bring one of your hands away to tilt his face up to yours so you can kiss him again.

You taste yourself warm on his lips, and the thought causes even more heat to pool at your core. All too soon, you pull away from him and shove his head back between your thighs. 

“Fuck, Wade, so good. You’re so good for me.”

He’s whimpering right into your core and involuntarily, the hand restraining his wrists clenches. The harshness only turns him on further, and he continues rubbing himself along your leg so quick, you’re sure it must be starting to sting.

“Yeah? You like fucking my leg, Wade? I love seeing you grind on me, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

His pace increases, and he starts letting out frequent moans in between the warm breaths he exhales onto you. Your thighs are shaking – his speed for you has never faltered – and you shove his face towards you with the palm against his head.

“I’m gonna come. You wanna be my good boy and come with me, huh?”

At that, he releases a loud groan into your pussy, and you feel yourself coming, dripping onto his already soaked face. At your wetness, his grinding only increases, and after only a few more seconds, Wade finishes, cum seeping from his pants onto your leg. 

The two of you stay silent with only your breaths slowly returning to normal to fill the air. Wade’s eyes are large, gazing at you like you’re all he could ever want, and it’s almost too overwhelming for you to return.

Shakily, he pushes off the ground and makes it to his feet before he stumbles to the side. On instinct, you jump from the seat outside to catch him, your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re still afraid that he’ll fall, but Wade lets out a light giggle.

“If you couldn’t drive us home before, I’ve got no clue how we’re making it back now.”

You lightly slap his arm, “You could be nicer to me after I made you come, bitch.”

He lets out a groan that would sound exaggerated if it came from anyone else, “Shit, call me that next time!”

“Next time I wreck you in the middle of nowhere?” you smirk.

“Just name a time and place.”

[cvntydazai]

the regulars

you catch the eye of two regulars that come to the diner you work at

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader x chuuya nakahara

word count; 3.6k

content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact!), threesome, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of suicide (it’s dazai obv), degrading (dazai calls reader a slut), lowkey meandom!dazai, softdom!chuuya, oral sex (m&f receiving), backshots.., reader is held hostage (not by dazai or chuuya), cursing, unedited writing, probably a lot more

authors note; my first post on here! i’m pretty proud of this!

the diner was almost quiet in the mornings, very few customers and even fewer employees were present. it was usually just yourself and the cook until around noon when the lunch rush hit, but that was okay with you.

it allowed you catch up with whatever hobby you had going on at that moment, this time it was crocheting. whatever online forum that promised you it was easy was lying, you could barely finish the small square you had started.

just as you were beginning to grow frustrated you heard the familiar ding of the diner’s door, alerting you of a customer.

the brown haired man was sopping wet, a dreary gaze in his eyes as he shuffled to an empty table and awaited your service. you jumped to, notepad and pencil already in hand as you approached him.

“i don’t recall rain being on today’s forecast.” your weak attempt at a joke flew over his head entirely.

“oh, it’s not raining. i was trying to die in the river.” the confession didn’t surprise you as much as it should have.

there was talk of a man who was always spotted trying to drown himself, you assumed it was rumors.

“hmm, didn’t seem to work out.” it was the only response you could muster for the bizarre statement.

he opened his mouth to respond but as he lifted his eyes to meet yours he stopped, mouth agape and eyes wide like he had a groundbreaking revelation upon catching your eyes. you cleared your throat, cheeks growing warm from his staring.

“i didn’t realize i was in the presence of someone so beautiful. how rude of me not to greet you with the respect you deserve.” a cheap compliment, but his confidence when saying it was cute.

“what can i get you?” you changed the subject, tapping your pencil to your notebook.

“your number, if it’s available.” with rolled eyes you sighed, he overdid it now.

“let’s start off with your drink, what can i get you?” with a bit more push you questioned him.

“whatever type of whiskey you have.” you hummed, quickly scribbling down his drink and scurrying off to grab it.

when you went to the back the line cook was there prepping for lunch, he only greeted you with a small smile.

his eyes widened when he saw the whiskey you were pouring into a glass.

“a bit early for that, isn’t it?” you snorted.

“it’s for a customer.” he didn’t continue but you could feel his judging gaze.

after delivering the odd man his drink and a bit more bickering you got him to finally order something. just as he was leaving the restaurant got busy so you didn’t have time to wave him goodbye before he was out the door. and that was it, you expected to never see him again.

your shift was usually from open to close, so you swallowed your odd interaction you had that morning and continued on with your day. you got through the lunch and dinner rush without issue and now it was just you and the closing cook.

this was a normal day for you, working long hours and making poor pay. the tips were nice, but did they make up for all the rude customers you face on a daily basis?

you hear the ding of door, it’s ring echoing through the empty restaurant. with 45 minutes until close you wanted to tell whoever was there to leave, but your moral compass fought back with you.

a short man wearing a long coat and a strange looking hat. he was alone, you were thankful for that. you didn’t need a large party right before close.

when he sat down you finally approached him.

“hello, what can i get for you?” he didn’t look up at you, his eyes still scanning the menu.

“just a beer.” a strange request to ask at such hour, especially with a bar being just a couple of blogs down the street. you didn’t voice these thoughts with your customer and instead went to fetch his drink.

when you returned you saw that he was writing down notes in a notebook that he quickly pushed away when he noticed you looming over him. you smiled, setting down the drink and also taking a seat directly across from the stranger.

he shot you a strange look, one that held a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“we close soon, thought i’d keep ya company.” he scoffed.

“how generous.” laced with sarcasm but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

you two talked for only a little bit, you asked him about what he was writing but he mentioned that it was classified, having something to do with his job that he wouldn’t reveal. eventually you both had to go home as the restaurant was closing. you were surprised by just how fast the time had come and gone when talking to the stranger

“i can walk you home, if you want me to.” he offered, to which you smiled.

“i’m gonna catch the late night bus, but thank you mr..”

“you can just call me chuuya, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” he said, his eyes trained on your nametag.

and then you parted ways, that was what you assumed to be the last of him.

thoughts of the two strange men you met today danced around in your head until you finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, the exhaustion that would follow you into the morning for another shift.

the very next day, your next shift you were surprised to see the brunette from the last morning. he waved, noticeably brighter this time around.

“goodmorning!” he yelled, motioning for you to come over.

you complied as he took your hands and sat you down beside him. with little shame he flirted, his mouth moving so fast you could barely keep up. you were able to introduce yourself to him and he did the same, he revealed that his name was dazai.

“would you do me the honor of committing a double suicide with me?” he asked for the millionth time, his bandaged hands snaking up your wrists to hold you tenderly.

“you’re cute, but no.” and with that you shook him off, his hands flying back dramatically.

he stuck around for a bit longer, you made sure he had enough whiskey to keep him busy. sometimes you would catch his gaze as you worked and he’d flash you a pretty smile.

but the times when you would look and he wasn’t staring he’d usually be rubbing his finger around the rim of the glass with his other hand supporting his resting head as he stared out the window in deep thought. you couldn’t help but admire the man, he was attractive.

and just like yesterday he left during lunch rush and your day continued on. and into the night you would encounter yet another familiar face.

chuuya sat in the same spot as he did last night, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for you to approach him.

“seems like i have two new regulars.” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to him.

he ordered just a beer again and you once again sat down in front of him to chat. you were lucky he came in so close to closing so you usually weren’t even busy.

you chatted for a bit and then, just like yesterday you both got up to leave and he offered again to walk you home. you would just take the bus again.

this routine of your morning regular and your night regular became an almost everyday thing. sometimes one of them wouldn’t show and it worried you but they always showed up again the next day.

you got to know the two of them well, it occurred to you one day just how different they were from eachother. the only similarity was their love for booze, and how much of it they could drink.

somewhere down the line of this routine you started to catch crushes on both men. how scandalous, you thought to yourself. two men practically drinking themselves to death and you were swooning over both of them. who could blame you when they both gave you that certain look. chuuya more subtle than dazai by a long shot, but the ‘fuck me’ eyes they both gave you didn’t lie.

you shook your head, you shouldn’t be thinking these things about strangers that you barely knew. they were just customers, and that’s all they ever would be.

little did you know, they were both thinking the same thoughts about you. dazai hadn’t been able to keep you out of his head since the very first day you two met, for once he was glad his attempt at suicide failed him because it meant meeting you. chuuya was in the same predicament, he never planned on meeting you but once you hooked him in he couldn’t escape.

the pretty diner girl that has two very dangerous men roped in her smile.

when dazai came in the morning to the diner he was expecting to see you there, smiling and waiting patiently as always, but instead in your place was another waitress. he frowned, sitting down in his usual seat.

when the unfamiliar waitress walked to his table he immediately questioned her,

“where’s y/n? this isn’t usually her off day.” she seemed caught off guard, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know. she didn’t show up for her shift so i was called in, the owner tried calling her but she didn’t pick up.” something felt wrong, he felt it in his bones.

he excused himself, muttering something about only wanting to be served by you. just as he was standing his eyes caught a piece of paper hidden between the ketchup and mustard bottle that were displayed next to the menus on the table.

he took the folded up note and quietly exited the diner.

chuuya would experience the same oddity at a later time that day. he saw a different waitress and spotted the note.

and the note read that they were to both be at a specific location at a specific time.

said location was that of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. it would occasionally be put on dazai’s radar if he was looking out for stolen goods or missing people but for the most part no one paid attention to it.

dazai arrived early, surprised to see a particular short man already at the entrance of the warehouse.

“what the hell are you doing here, dazai?” chuuya interrogated first, his voice on edge.

“i could ask you the same thing.” dazai shot back, a pout on his lips.

at first dazai suspected chuuya was behind this, but when chuuya explained your description and that he was looking for you he understood almost instantly.

“someone must have been watching us, found the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.” chuuya spoke, dazai humming in agreement.

“well, if i’m stuck with you at least be useful.” dazai said, walking ahead into the entrance of the warehouse with a shouting ginger following behind him.

the exterior looked better than the interior. old construction equipment everywhere with strange stains covering the walls and floors, it was definitely abandoned.

chuuya worried for you, not because he feared that you were hurt but because this place reeked. he could hardly imagine you being here, sitting somewhere in a cold dark corner with a dangerous person holding you hostage.

“someone’s got a lot of nerve to target her..” chuuya mumbled to no one in particular.

“they do, which is why we’re going to take care of whoever did this and get my woman back.” dazai responded, keeping his eyes peered for any signs of you.

“your woman? in your dreams!” chuuya let out a loud laugh that he hushed immediately after hearing what sounded like a cry coming from deeper in the warehouse.

both men sprinted forward, stopping once met with the sight of you chained to the floor with a man peering over you.

he turned to dazai and chuuya, a wide grin on his face.

you could barely see the scene before you, your head fuzzy from whatever the stranger had hit you with to knock you out. you barely remember how it happened, you only recall waking up in the dark with the man who abducted you.

just like before, everything was fading to black, this time your mind at peace now that you knew help was here. you didn’t know if it was the police or whoever, you didn’t care. just being content that someone came for you, you let the darkness consume you.

-

when you came to you saw dazai and chuuya standing over you, yet to see you were awake.

“don’t try to wake her up, she’s clearly exhausted, dazai. let her wake up on her own.” you heard chuuya’s voice along with a sigh from dazai.

“i just want to make sure she’s okay. especially after you carried her around like she was a damn ragdoll.” the brunette muttered.

“what else was i supposed to do? sit there and let that guy shoot at us?” you groaned, the loud noises not settling well on your ears.

everything went silent. both men stared down at you expectantly. you sat upright, wiping your eyes.

“dazai? chuuya? you two know eachother?��� it was all you could muster, it made dazai grin.

“unfortunately.” chuuya mumbled, shoving away the arm dazai was trying to lay across his shoulder.

“i’ve got to say y/n, i’m hurt! i thought i was the only man in your life.” you ignored dazai’s dramatics, instead looking to chuuya for answers to where you were.

he explained the entire situation, after they “took care of” the person who abducted you, they brought you to chuuya’s apartment and have been waiting for you to wake up since.

the explanation made you realize just how awkward of a position you were in. you laid on the end of chuuya’s bed with the two men standing over you. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered your thoughts. this was not the time.

“this is a lot to wrap my head around.. why did they abduct me out of all people?” you knew you had been abducted and held hostage but you still didn’t understand why.

“oh, belladonna.” dazai cooed, his hand reaching to caress your cheek.

“they thought to take out our common weakness.” chuuya continued, his palm resting against the other cheek.

they didn’t need to finish their sentence, you already knew. the lingering gazes from both men at the diner, the flirting from dazai, the gentlemanly offers to walk you home from chuuya.

they were wrapped around your finger, they always had been. there was no more denying that fact, they had risked their lives to save you.

“i.. guess i should be thanking my saviors then, shouldn’t i?” a double meaning, they both knew it too.

“mmm, i think so. don’t you agree, chuuya?” the shorter man nodded in agreement.

dazai was the first to move, his hand that was on your cheek drifting down to your shoulder as he eased you further into the bed. you complied, wide eyes glancing between the two.

your back hit the cushioned mattress, dazai joined you on the bed, laying on his side as he peered down at your chest that held your racing heart. you saw chuuya kneel down and spread your legs further apart.

they both worked simultaneously, dazai undressing your top half while chuuya worked on the bottom. the feeling of their fingers grazing your skin left you overwhelmed, completely at their expense.

you were fully undressed in a matter of seconds, the cold air of the night nipped at your skin. suddenly feeling insecure you attempted to reach your arms down to cover yourself, dazai caught them, pinning them at your sides.

“don’t hide, beautiful. let us see you.” he whispered, his words holding authority that urged you to comply, you did.

chuuya’s breath fanned over your exposed cunt, shaky short lived breaths that told you he was just as nervous as you were.

“are you ready?” you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation.

you felt his tongue make contact with your slit, a constricted moan left your lips out of instinct. dazai’s rough hand grabbed hold of your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

his warm brown eyes held a sinister glint in them. he dipped his head into your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin around your collarbone.

the noticeable contrast between the two showed, chuuya’s sweet licks to your pussy against dazai’s rough sucking to your neck. a mixture of pleasure in pain, the perfect balance.

chuuya made work of your cunt, acting as if he’d never get the chance to taste you again. his tongue darting in and out of your hole at a rapid speed you could barely keep up with. his mouth attacked your clit next, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“chu.. ah!” he added a finger to your hole, curling the digit inside of you to hit the places he couldn’t reach otherwise.

he could tell you were reaching your peak, keeping a steady pace to bring you over the edge.

dazai could tell too, so he pushed chuuya away from you.

you whined at the loss of contact, gripping dazai’s shirt as a weak attempt to beg for more. you caught sight of chuuya, your juices all over his chin. he shamelessly licked the finger that was previously inside of you.

“can’t let him give you your first orgasm, beautiful.” chuuya bit back a snarky comment, instead listening to the painful erection in his pants.

“switch me places.” dazai spoke, chuuya agreed with little hesitation.

dazai was now by your legs and chuuya sitting behind your head. the brunette was quick to flip you on your back and position you just where he wanted. your ass now in the air with him lazily rubbing his clothed erection against your ass.

your head dangerously close to chuuya’s crotch, your shaking hands gripping both of his thighs. while dazai took off his pants you hastily aided chuuya with his.

dazai wasted little time, aligning himself with your entrance. his hands gripping your ass while he began with his first thrust, one reaching so deep he nearly bottomed out. a grunt left your lips, squeezing chuuya’s sensitive thighs as a way to stabilize yourself.

you felt chuuya’s soft hands reach for your hair, massaging your head whilst shushing your whimpers that escaped with each thrust dazai threw into your aching cunt.

once a rhythm was found you put your focus on chuuya’s painfully hard member. his eyes on yours the entire time as he watched you lick the base of his manhood until you reached the tip. he guided your head down his cock, small praises leaving his lips the entire time.

“our pretty girl, being such a useful slut.” dazai spoke, landing a smack on your ass.

you attempted to moan but your lips were occupied, drool escaping your mouth with every thrust chuuya delivered into your throat.

the speed of their thrusts beginning to synchronize, you felt your core squeezing dazai harder. it only encouraged him, knowing you were close to your peak.

it was all so overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes as you attempted to take it all, to take all that dazai and chuuya gave you.

“so pretty.. taking us so well.” chuuya mumbled, wiping tears that began spilling from your eyes.

he looked at you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, despite your hair being a mess and your eyes being red from tears.

you were all close, that much was clear from the way dazai had began to shut up and chuuya’s silent grunts had turned into breathless moans. you were no better, one hand still resting on chuuya’s thigh while the other reached for one of dazai’s hands.

dazai’s hips sped up, squeezing your hand tenderly whenever he hits particularly deep.

he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, your tight walls leaving him a shaky mess.

he’s the first to come undone, his seed spilling into you with one finally push of his hips. his orgasm setting off chuuya, cumming into your warm mouth with a slew of curses leaving his lips.

you swallow every drop, chuuya wiping your mouth with his thumb before lifting your head up to plant a kiss on your lips. dazai still thrusting inside you, overstimulating himself to get you to your breaking point.

“m’ cumming!” you announced, heat pooling in your stomach.

“let go, belladonna.” and you did, cumming hard on his cock.

the room was filled with panting sighs and beating chests as you all collected yourselves. chuuya was the first to move, scrambling to his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. dazai cuddled you on the bed while chuuya cleaned you off, dazai stroking your hair whilst humming you to sleep.

you refused to let the tiredness take hold of you until both men were in the bed with you. when chuuya joined, you finally gave in to the sleep that was calling you.

you had never slept better, feeling safe in the arms of two strangers who had become regulars in your life.

[cinnaleaf]

「 Wrapped In Jude | A Very Merry Footballer Ficmas 」

summary: you’re stranded in a snowstorm with your childhood best friend and the only hotel room left is the honeymoon suite

wc: ~3.2k 🎅🏾: a gift for all of you who’ve been mostly nice this year | pt 2 of my ficmas series

When the car swerved again your heart almost jumped out of your chest. The tires skidded across the icy roads, making you grip the wheel tight. You were silently begging the sky gods to give you a non-icy, smooth stretch of road, but your prayers went unanswered.

“Aye relax” Jude yelled from the passenger seat, which was bold considering he wasn’t the one fighting for both of your lives against an assault of frozen water crystals. He pointed ahead. “That doesn’t look good.”

“No shit. Nothing looks good right now Jude” you retorted, trying to keep the wheel steady as snow pummeled against the windshield. The snow was coming down so hard that it felt like someone placed your car inside of a snow globe and shook it for a laugh.

“Why did you convince me this was a good idea?” you asked.

“I didn’t convince you–”

“Lies. ‘The roads will be fine Y/N. It’s just a little snow’ ” you mocked, not even giving him a glance. “You’re not even driving but you have soooo much to say.”

“Well.. you don’t want me to drive. If I drive, we’re DOA” he joked, looking out the window at a large snowbank.

“DOA??”

“Dead on arri–” Jude started, but the car skidded again, making you curse under your breath. Your foot eased off the gas, but your pulse was thundering in your ears. Every turn of the wheel felt like you were one bad move away from starring in a very unfestive breaking news report.

“Over there!” Jude pointed at the dim glow of a building in the distance. “I think that’s a hotel. Let’s just stop there, yeah?”

You squinted through the storm, leaning toward the dashboard like a grandma as you just barely made out the outline of the car park that was nearly full. The tires groaned as you slowly turned the car, sliding into a parking spot with relief etched on your face.

“See? We’re alive” Jude announced, grinning from ear to ear.

“Barely” you muttered, throwing the car in park. The storm outside was still raging, and you weren’t about to get stuck sleeping in the car if you didn’t have to. “Let’s see if they have a room available.”

The wind harshly smacked you in the face as soon as you stepped out of the car. You hunched your shoulders, pulling your coat tighter as Jude trailed behind you, not in a rush to get inside.

“Hurry up Jude” you called over your shoulder. “I’m not staying out here while you frolic around. You wanna be Olaf so bad.”

“On my way” Jude said, snickering as he scooped a handful of snow. “Y/N look!”

You didn’t think much of it until you heard a very specific laugh. One that meant he was up to no good. You had no chance to turn around before you felt a freezing snowball hit the back of your head, sending a wet slush of ice down your neck.

“Are you serious right now?” you said, spinning around to see him grinning like a fool.

“You looked tense after all the driving,” Jude said, shrugging. “Thought I’d help you loosen up.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing through the doors. Inside, the lobby was pure chaos. People in coats and boots crowded around arguing about room availability, while others were slumped in chairs, drinking hot chocolate. 

At the front desk, the receptionist looked like she was one request away from quitting on the spot. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, her eyes were darting from one demanding guest to the next. Honestly, the girl looked like she needed a shot or two.

Jude leaned in, brushing some snow out of your hair, whispering. “I think she hates her life more than you hate me right now.”

“Debatable” you muttered, stepping up to the desk when she finally looked your way.

“Hi. Please tell me you have a room left? We need two beds.”

Her tired eyes scanned you and Jude. She sighed, “We have one.” She tapped at the computer, tone flat. “But..”

“But what?” you repeated, already bracing for the worst.

“It’s a honeymoon suite. Just one bed.” she added, not softening the blow. 

Jude burst out laughing as he leaned against the counter. “What do you say, Mrs. Bellingham?”

“Shut up Jude,” you hissed, giving him a nasty side eye. You turned back to the receptionist. “Are you sure there’s nothing else? Not even a pull out bed?”

The receptionist shook her head, very over the conversation. “Nope. Take it or leave it.”

Jude smiled at you, wagging his brows. “The car or the love cavern? Take your pick.”

You groaned, snatching the key fob from the counter. “We’ll take it.” Jude trailed behind you as you walked to the lift, still laughing at the fact that he was about to sleep in a honeymoon suite with his childhood best friend.

Jude’s chuckles echoed through the mostly empty hallway as you waited for the lift. You glared at him, but it made him laugh even harder.

“I’m gonna lock you out and enjoy the honeymoon suite by myself if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you warned.

“Ah, lighten up” he said, straightening up but still smiling cheekily. “This is hilarious. Admit it.”

“No. It’s not” you snapped, stepping into the lift. “There’s nothing funny about being stuck in a blizzard. And out of all people...it had to be with you.”

Jude leaned against the wall, shrugging. “Could’ve been stuck with someone boring like Trent.”

“Sleeping in the car would be a better option than either of you.” you muttered, folding your arms. 

“Okay,” he winked with both eyes, lightly pushing your arm. “I’ll be a good boy. Promise. Wouldn’t want Santa to give me any coal for Christmas.”

The lift doors shut but Jude’s smirk and annoying laugh hadn’t budged since leaving the lobby – it was starting to work your last nerve.

“You should’ve been on the naughty list years ago” you muttered, leaning back on the wall.

“Maybe I’ll rebrand next year” Jude said, stuffing his hands into his coat pocket while rocking back on his feet. “New year, new me.”

You puffed a laugh. “You? Rebranding?? You’ve been loud, obnoxious, and way too comfortable since we were kids.”

“You still tolerate me enough to do a road trip back home though. Says a lot,” he grinned as the lift began to rise.

“Says I make bad decisions.”

He shook his head, then looked up at you with a sly smile. “You know I’m the light of your life.”

“More like a pain in the ass” you shot back, staring at the floor numbers ticking by. Anything to avoid looking at him and his cute, yet maddening face. “I can’t wait to get in this room and pretend you don’t exist.”

“Pretend I don’t exist?” he repeated, taking offense. “You can’t even go five minutes without talking to me.”

“I can if you would shut up.”

The lift dinged and the doors slid open to reveal Christmas lights glowing along the ceiling. There were wreaths made of pine and red berries hung on every door. You could smell cinnamon and the smell of open fire from a nearby fireplace.

For a second, it felt like you were in a magical holiday movie, but Jude had to ruin it of course.

“Ah, perfect for our honeymoon evening” he said, stepping out of the lift.

“Honeymoon evening my ass” you sassed, following him down the hall. “You’re not sleeping in bed with me.”

Jude spun around, walking backward just to flash you a cocky grin. “That’s no way to talk about consummating our marriage, wifey.”

“Keep chatting shit and I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

“You won’t.”

“Fuck around and you’ll find out.”

When you reached the door, Jude took the key fob from you and pushed the door open like he was revealing a car on a game show. “Go on, Mrs. Bellingham. Your special night awaits..” he announced.

You rolled your eyes and stepped inside, immediately stopping in your tracks. The room was tacky as hell. There were rose petals everywhere, a mirror above the king sized bed, and a red, heart shaped LED light that casted a red glow on the entire room.

Jude stood behind you, letting out a low whistle. “Went all out, didn’t they?”

“Is this a joke?” you asked no one. “A mirror above the bed is crazy.”

Jude brushed past you, flopping his long body on the bed like it was the best room he ever saw. “Nah, this is nice. They have swan towels and chocolate!”

“I hate this”  you mumbled, dropping your bag onto the floor and flopping into the chair. “I’m not sleeping here."

“Yeah?” Jude taunted, propping his elbows behind him. “Where you gonna go? The floor? The car??”

“Anywhere but here.”

He smirked, kicking his shoes off. “Suit yourself. But this bed is amazing. You’re missing out.”

Later that night, the room was quiet with the exception of the roar from the heater. You were curled up on the far, far edge of the massive bed, staring at the wall. You took Jude up on his offer, but you built a pillow wall between you and him. Despite building the pillow wall for boundaries – it was still awkward.

“Hey” Jude’s voice broke through the silence, quietly. “You asleep?”

You closed your eyes, pretending like you didn’t hear him.

“Y/N” he called again, louder this time. “I know you’re up. You breathe loud when you’re lying.”

You groaned, rolling over to your back. “Ugh. What do you want Jude?”

“I’m cold,” he said casually.

“What?”

“I’m freezing actually. Feels like my toes are gonna fall off.” 

You sat up, glaring at him over the pillow wall. “You’re under blankets.. how are you cold?”

Jude shrugged, pulling the blanket up around his body. “Dunno. Maybe I’ve got bad circulation or something?”

“Sounds like a you problem” you scoffed, laying back down and pulling the covers over your own head. “Deal with it.”

There was a pause, then Jude spoke again. “Or..you could let me borrow some of your body heat.”

Your head shot out the covers. “Nope. Absolutely not. No.”

“I’ll stay on my side,” Jude said, poking his head over the pillow barrier like he was trying to negotiate his bedtime. “I promise. Just scooch over a bit?”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

“Jude.”

He dramatically sighed and flopped back to his side of the bed. “You have no heart. I’m suffering and you don’t care. I thought you loved me.”

“You’re not suffering” you reasoned, pulling some of the blanket away from him and onto you. “You’re annoying.”

“Fine.” he muttered, tugging the blanket back toward him. “If I die from hypothermia just know you’ll have to explain that to my family. Good luck telling my mum you’re a cold blooded killer by proxy.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore him, but the room kept getting colder. The heating system in the room sounded like it was about to give up entirely based on how loud it was roaring. The air in the room was biting back at you, even under the blankets.

He was right, and you hated it.

With a heavy sigh, you got rid of the pillow wall and turned to face him. Jude perked up again, his eyes lighting up like Christmas tree.

“Don’t say anything” you warned, scooting closer until you were a safe but practical distance away. “This is for warmth only.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he grinned.

“And stay on your side” you added, jabbing your finger at him.

“Got it. Boundaries” he said, holding his hands above the covers.

When you laid back down, you were trying hard not to focus on how warm he felt from a few scoots away. The bed creaked slightly as he shifted closer – not too close, but enough to make you hyper aware of how close he could be if he shifted any further.

“Better?” you asked, your voice clipped.

“Yeah, this is great,” he replied in a soft tone. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep – but then Jude started talking again. He said you couldn’t go five minutes without talking to him, but clearly that was on his part and not yours.

“Y’know” he whispered quietly. “For someone who says they make bad decisions, you’re not doing too bad tonight.”

“What–”

The room went dark faster than you could finish the word and you heard the heater groan before turning off. The only noise you could hear now was the wind and snow knocking against the window. You froze, pulling more of the blanket toward you.

“Hey” Jude’s voice cut through the loud silence. “Did the power just–?”

“Yes. The power went out” you replied, annoyed. “What gave it away? The pitch black?”

“Attitude isn’t cute on you” he muttered, shifting in the bed. You felt the mattress dip and then his voice came in closer. “You okay?”

“I’m fine” you mumbled, but your heart started racing. Not from the power outage, but from him being so close.

“This is cozy,” Jude spoke after a pause. You could hear the grin on his face, you didn’t need to see it. “It’ll be fun telling our kids we survived the apocalypse, Mrs. Bellingham.”

“You wish I was your wife,” you joked. “But it’s not the apocalypse.. just a power outage.”

“Feels like it” he answered dramatically, slightly yanking some of the blanket back over to himself. “It’s like the North Pole in here now.”

“Well..the heater is off so yeah...it’s cold. Duh.”

“Right,” he said, inching closer. You felt his knee bump your leg under the blanket. “Body heat is crucial to –”

“Jude, be quiet.”

“I’m just saying” he countered, by the tone of his voice you could tell the grin was back. “We’re gonna freeze to death. And for what? We can combine our body heat.”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head but it was no use. The cold air was already creeping in and the space between you and Jude was closing by the second.

“Okay. Fine.” you finally mumbled. “Behave. I don’t want to play footsie with you. Keep your cold ass toes to yourself.”

“I will,” he said quickly, already shifting closer. “Scout’s honour.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

“Could’ve been if I didn’t go for football.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue as you turned on your side to face him. Jude was way too close now – his face was only a few centimeters away from yours. Your fingers lightly grazed his arm as you tugged over the blanket to share equally now.

“This good?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Perfect.” he murmured softly.

The silence stretched for a while but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could hear him breathing slow and steady; you also felt the warmth radiating off his body. You didn’t realize how cold you were before. Your closeness to Jude felt strange, yet comforting. Almost like you didn’t realize it was something you wanted forever, until now.

“You’re staring at me,” Jude said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“I’m not staring” you shot back defensively.

“I can feel your eyes. You’re staring” he teased, another grin creeping into his voice.

“Jude.”

“Y/N.”

The way he said your name this time sent a jolt through you, and you suddenly couldn’t think of a single comeback.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked in a low voice.

“Like what?” you whispered.

“Like you’re waiting for something…” he said, leaning in slightly.

Your breath hitched when the space between you shrunk to nothing. His face was so close that you could feel his breath warm and steady against your skin.

“Jude…” you started, not knowing how to finish the rest.

“Yeah?”

You didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything else left to be said. You felt the staticky, warm rush of anticipation that can only be felt right before you’re about to kiss someone for the first time. 

His lips brushed up against yours softly, finally making a connection that was years in the making. The first second stretched out and you couldn’t pull away. You found yourself kissing him back, moving your hand instinctively to his shoulder. Jude’s hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened slowly, with much intentionality. His hands moved up your back and he brushed his fingertips up and down your spine, making you shiver – but not from the cold.

But then the power turned back on.

Both of you froze, lips still barely touching, blinking against the sudden harsh red LED lighting – both of you caught like a deer in headlights. 

“Shit” Jude whispered, pulling back so fast the blanket nearly slipped off both of you.

You scrambled to your side of the bed with your heart pounding, lips still buzzing from the feeling of his. You pulled the blanket over yourself like it could hide the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend.

The room went back to silence with the exception of the heater that thrummed back to life, filling the room back up with much needed warmth.

“So” Jude started, his voice awkward and loud. “Power’s back on.”

“Yep” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Back on. Power. Electricity. Thomas Edison...or whoever.”

“Yeah…guess we don’t need body heat anymore” Jude said light and careful, not sure if it was safe to joke yet.

You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He was on his side of the bed with his hands tucked behind his head like he was trying to play it cool, but his lips twitched up and gave him away.

“Yeah..” you mumbled, still clutching the blanket. “No need.”

The heater roared louder as you sank further to your edge of the bed. You stared at the ceiling trying to pretend like your thoughts weren’t a mess.

Jude cleared his throat, breaking the silence again. This boy really couldn’t go long without talking to you. “For what it’s worth... that wasn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze for the first time since the power came back on. He didn’t have a cocky grin this time. It seemed shy, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I’ll keep that in mind” you smiled, feeling just as shy.

“You warm enough now?” Jude asked, changing the subject so you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile grew. “Yeah, I’m fine. Very cozy now.”

“Good” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you longer than necessary. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold on our honeymoon. Santa might not forgive me for that.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right. Can’t mess up so close to the holidays.”

“You get me” he said, grinning in full force now. “Nice list all day, every day.”

“Mm..debatable.” you teased, moving closer to his side of the bed. 

“Hater” Jude interlocked his hand with yours as you both laid in bed.

You closed your eyes, comfortable warmth filling your heart from the temperature in the room, the holiday season, and from Jude’s kiss.

“Goodnight Jude.”

“Goodnight Mrs. Bellingham.” he teased, kissing your cheek.

You opened one eye to glare at him, but internally you were feeling butterflies. “Don’t push your luck.”

Jude chucked, brushing his thumb against your hand. “I don’t know. I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight.”

[sunsettsam]

dressing the hero

I 80s! soldierboy x fem! reader

I warnings: none! pure banter, reader is a little apprehensive/shy at first, reader pining for soldier boy, possible friendship? fluff? soldier boy being a bit of a loveable jerk..

I synopsis: you knew the difficulties that came with being in a company like Vought, even more so having a crush on america's favorite hero.

god you had a massive crush on him..

I mean you really were in love with him, the entanglement of it all was so difficult to deal with.

You weren't a hero, no, you didn't have any abilities, and you didn't have a bomb dropped on you or some weird chemicals put into your system as a baby. You were as normal as one could be, working in the costuming department of Vought as a seamstress, you were a part of the team that manufactured the beloved hero's supe suits and event outfits, custom and american made, just how Vought portrayed themselves to be. you were never out in the field, you only ever saw a glimpse of him and shared quiet moments when he would be forced to come into the studio for nicks in his suit needing repair, or his shield needing polishing.

He was Soldier Boy - of course, he held the hearts of millions in the palm of his hand, with that cocky smirk and gorgeous face there's nothing he probably couldn't get away with. you worked in the fashion department why would he ever-

''anyone in here? need one of you fashion nerds to fix my damn suit'' That voice, oh it was him, there's a familiarity within it, you didn't even have to look toward him, knowing it was him just by the tone and gruff exterior. looking up from your sketchbook, your eyes met his, it was only for a moment before you quickly got up, putting your glasses on, assessing the damage on his suit.

''what happened? was this caused by a mission or-'' you couldn't even finish your sentence before he butted in, almost ignoring you

''some stupid slut decided it was a good idea to try on my helmet during a threesome..'' he looks to you, his gaze calculated and cold.

''oh well that's... i can see the scuff marks...'' you looked closer at his helmet, seeing streaks against the fibre, then seeing the faded white marks on his suit.

''yeah take care of that too while you're at it..'' he grumbles, handing you his suit, which is a bit heavy for you, letting out a small ''oof'' at the sheer weight of it, but nonetheless, bringing it to the large table, laying the suit down, smoothing it out.

he lingered for a bit, watching you work, meticulous with your tools, grabbing the material used in his suit, cutting out the spots that were messed up- presumably during the.. threesome.. and replacing it with better fabric, using black string to thread through the hard exterior of the suit, throwing away the scraps.

''so you're the one making all of our suits huh..'' he asks, pulling a cigarette out from his pocket, lighting it, his fingers encapsulated over the wrapped tobacco, tapping the edge of it before bringing it to his mouth, inhaling it, before letting smoke out.

''well its- not just me- its the department as a whole- but- i- did help Mr. Edgar with the design process..'' you hum, a pin in your mouth as you finish threading the new material onto his suit, making sure to knot it tightly, grabbing scissors and cutting the excess.

he nods, compliant - for some reason he doesn't seem as boisterous or brute as he usually is with Payback. ''so what.. you just.. stay here? in this cramped little studio all day?'' he asks, you nod.

''tsk.. that sucks sweetheart..'' he looks to you ''you look like you don't get out much..'' and you laugh at that, you really didn't. I mean sure you went out to dinner by yourself occasionally but- you were so busy with commissions from Vought that you hardly had time to try and go out on a date. you knew of his nature toward women, how even when he was 'apparently' with crimson countess - he still made himself available to other women, winking at them, acting all cocky, like a self-righteous knight from a fairytale.

''i try to go out..'' you reply, putting the tools down, picking up his helmet, looking at the scuffs before grabbing a can of wd40 and putting some on a cloth, gently rubbing it onto the marks.

''really? where? the bookstore?'' he scoffs, a playful smirk on his face.

''yes actually.. its quite fun.. maybe you'd find something you like in there..''

''readings for nerds..'' he rolls his eyes, trying to get a reaction out of you, to which you take offense - to which he grins.

''reading is for- intellectual people...'' you cite, trying to remain calm and not burst at the seams from his comment, throwing the rag away and grabbing some sealant paint, gently brushing it over the now faded scuff marks.

'riiighhht... yeah.. intellectual people..'' he repeats, smirking. ''well then maybe the next time you're at the bookstore.. pick something out for me.''

that's when you perk up, looking at him, adjusting your stylist glasses, your cheeks go just a tad pink and you blink. he- i mean- the soldier boy- wants you to pick out a book for him? out of your own whim?

''nothing boring okay? i fuckin hate long books.. need somethin with action.. maybe a hot lady on the front of the cover..'' he interjects before you can say anything, noticing your flushed cheeks.

''um- yeah- i can... totally pick up a.. book for you..'' you nod almost eagerly as you finish fixing up his helmet, the sealant paint now dry, and he comes forward, tapping the end of the cigarette on the ground, smushing it beneath his boot.

''good..and.. thanks for the fix-up sweetheart..'' he replies, taking his newly fixed suit and helmet from your hands, you feel a small jolt of electricity as your fingers graze his, and for a moment you almost smile cheekily, a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest, your brain going into overdrive. it was just a book.. he only wanted you to pick out a book for him.. but then again.. he wanted you .. to pick out a book for him... that nickname ringing in your ears like churchbells, and as soon as he leaves, you nearly explode. oh god.. you truly were head over heels for him..

authors note: soooo.. after a long while.. im back! i plan on making this a three part series.. so stay tuned lovies!! thank you all for being patient with me, i have so many ideas to put out!! <3

(please do not copy/ post my works on other platforms!! thank you thank you!!)

[winterstelltales]

Toothache [zayne x dentist!reader]

word count: 1k content: fluff, toothaches, dentist!reader, established relationship notes: no proof reading

Despite him devouring sweets like he’s on a personal mission to bankrupt every candy store, Zayne usually did his best to take care of his oral hygiene. But even then, he couldn’t escape the fallout from all the sugar he inhaled.

Acrually his day was super awful. First, he had to wake up with a horrible toothache, then he had to drink his coffee without sugar. And the large banner placed outside his favorite café announcing the new sweets definitely wasn’t helping either. He almost had pulled over, but the constant ache on the side of his mouth had made him stop. 

The hospital staff was quick to notice his unusual silence. It wasn’t that he talked a lot, but still it was noticeable when he had been communicating with nothing but head nods and shakes all day. It was only Greyson who was brave enough to ask him what was going on. 

“Just a toothache,” Zayne had dismissed their concerns as he walked towards to the ward.

Zayne hoped the pain would fade away by the end of the day. 

His assistant stopped in his tracks, watching him walking out, “Didn't he just visit the dentist last week?” 

It didn’t.

So now he was reluctantly making an appointment to the dentist after his shift. His hand hovering over the call button, nervously recalling the warning he had gotten from a certain person a week ago.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to go the dentist, okay, maybe a bit, but the real reason behind his hesitation was his dentist—his lovely fiancé—who was actually very sweet and considerate... until he consumed ungodly amounts of sweets, despite her warnings, and somehow managed to get two toothaches a week apart.

“Good evening, you've reached Akso Dental Clinic. How may I assist you today?” the familiar voice of the receptionist drifted through the receiver.

“Hello Miss Chen, it’s Zayne,” he cleared his throat slightly, “I need to make an appointment, is she available?”

There’s a small silence on the other side, Zayne tapped his pen on the table, the soft sounds echoing in the quiet room.

“Dr. Zayne! Yes of course, you're in luck, there was a cancellation this afternoon,” the receptionist said cheerfully. "Would you like me to book you in for that time?”

“Yes please, thank you.”

He ends the call after confirming the time, his thumb coming up to rub the side of his cheek.

Soon enough the call he dreads comes in. The ringtone he had set specifically for you breaks the silence of his office. Yet a smile appears on his lips as he sees your face light up the screen.

“Are you serious?” was the first thing he hears when he answers the phone.

he thinks you sound like an angry kitten, the corners of his mouth quirks up as he speaks.

“About marrying you? Yes I am.” 

“You!” There’s a huff on the other side of the line, and he chuckles, “That’s not what I meant. What do you mean by another appointment? It hasn’t even been a week!”

“Actually it’s been—” 

“Stop right there mister, I swear you’re in deep trouble,” Zayne listens as you speak, imagining you walking around your office as you lecture him. 

It feels weirdly refreshing, the roles reversed, where he’s the one getting lectured about his health, and Zayne can't help but agree with everything you say. His heart warms at the sound of your voice, angry yet worried over him. 

“You better be here right on time, and don’t you dare consume even a single granule of sugar during that time,” you warned, your tone firm.

“Yes ma’am” Zayne nods, even though you can’t see.

The elevator ding as he arrives on your floor and the receptionist looks up almost immediately, a bright smile plastered on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak.

“You can go right in, Dr. Zayne,” She says, motioning towards the treatment room.

Zayne stops in front of the room, staring at your name displayed on the surface before knocking twice.

“Come in,” Your voice sounds muffled from the other side of the door.

Zayne steps into the bright room, the familiar sterile smell of antiseptic invading his nose almost immediately. His eyes settle on you, sitting on the chair wearing your pristine white coat. 

You raised your eyebrow at him, swiveling your chair so you can see him clearly, “Come and sit down.”

Zayne’s mouth twitched as he walked toward you. Seeing you so bossy and serious was a rare sight, and he wanted to savor every moment. It was amusing, to say the least. 

He didn’t realize he was staring at your face until you spoke.

He looked at the chair, looming in the middle of the room, looking too comfortable to be trusted, its cushioning is almost inviting, but he knew better. He laid down, eye squinting at the bright light pouring right down at him.

He saw your eyes softening and watched as you slightly adjusted the light away from his face.

“What?”

Zayne narrowed his eyes and glanced at the closed door, then grabbed your wrist, pulling you a bit closer.

“Is this doctor always rude to her patients?”

You scoffed, prying his fingers off your wrist and poked his cheek, making him hiss lightly.

“Only to the disobedient ones.”

You laughed softly as his lips formed a small pout. 

“Open your mouth, please,” you watched as he obediently did as you asked. During the next few minutes you carefully examined him, all the while trying hard to ignore his eyes glued to your face, following every one of your movements. 

“You don’t have to stare at me so intensely, you know," You said as you slowly took out the small metal mirror out of his mouth. Zayne stretched his jaw, trying to relieve the ache from having his mouth open for so long before replying, “What if I want to?”

He watched as a small flush crept up your neck, disappearing beneath your mask. You looked away, clearing your throat as you gathered your tools next to you.

“So what is it?” Zayne asked, eyeing the neatly arranged tray beside you.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad, but I can tell your sweet tooth has been working overtime,” You answered him while giving him a pointed look, “The sensitivity you’re feeling is likely from overindulging in sugary treats, it’s just your enamel taking a hit.”

You spoke as you walked towards him again, “For now, I’ll apply a fluoride varnish to help protect your enamel and reduce sensitivity. Then we can have a chat about your sweet tooth after we get home.”

Zayne closed his eyes as you leaned over him, while a noise, suspiciously close to a whine, escaped his throat. 

“All done,” You gave a pat on his cheek, leaning back and signalling him to clean himself up.

Zayne rubbed his jaw with fingertips, straightening himself up on the chair. He watched as you walked back to your desk and cleaned up some files on it before removing and hanging your coat on the hanger. 

“You’re done for the day?”

“Yup,” You turn towards him as he throws his long legs to the side, sitting on the chair upright, “you’re my last patient.”

“Okay,” You smile softly, threading your fingers softly in his black strands before pulling his hair back, making him stare up at you, “but one condition.”

“I’m very lucky then,” Zayne says, extending his hand towards you. You grab his hand, and he immediately pulls you in, wrapping his arms snuggly around your waist. He buries his face in your stomach, breathing in before speaking in a muffled tone, “let me take you out tonight.”

“Hm?”

You lean closer to him and quickly flicks his forehead, “That’s your punishment, and no dessert,” you whisper before pecking his lips softly.

[afyrian]

☆ not so bad

oikawa tooru x gn!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 2.1k | prompts: only one bed + enemies to lovers + coworkers

    snow covers the street, your eyes trying to focus through the constantly moving windshield wipers. your finger taps incessantly against the steering wheel, the leather cover feeling comfortable beneath your clenched hands. your passenger (princess) and coworker winces as you take a quick turn, the ice making it hard to slow down with enough time. gaze darting towards him, eyes rolling exasperated.

  "i offered to let you drive, you're not gonna complain now," you look back towards the street, the streetlights barely fighting the incoming abundance of snow, only a large home down the street coming into view.

  he looks back over at you, something only your subconscious can feel. he scoffs lightly, the sound nearly swept away by the loud heaters in your car. "well i didn't think you'd nearly kill us on the drive. plus how are we even going to get there in this? we gotta find somewhere else to stay," he relays what you're already thinking in your head, like a broken record kept around for far too long.

  "well, how about- look is this an inn or something?" you slow the car down, no headlights on behind you or coming towards you.

  there's a quaint sign at the entrance of a large driveway and parking lot. a floral design etched into the wood, looking like something from an old romcom that you've seen a million times. pulling into the driveway, he starts to think out loud, running ideas through your head, "what if this is a murder hotel? like that one from america?"

  you roll your eyes again, the only thing you can seem to do in his presence. "oikawa, you're really getting on my nerves. i'm trying to stay professional but if you say one more word you're walking," you finally look over at him, noticing his eyes on you.

  there's something about the way his eyes still shine in the darkness. and for a second, you almost feel intrigued by his gaze, by his sarcastic smile. however, you're quickly pulled back to reality as you park in the mostly full parking lot. cars covered with snow make it almost impossible to find a spot, the rest of the snow building up to heights the rental car couldn't handle. 

  parking, you look towards the front door, "i'm gonna get us rooms before anyone else comes, grab the bags, will ya?"

  tossing him the keys, you open the door and grab your wallet. stepping through the thick snow, it picks up onto your ankles, chilling the space between your socks and pants. walking under the porch light, you happily let the warmth overtake you. and as you open the door, bright lights shine out the door, the indoor heat surpassing anything the small car could accomplish. 

  stepping in, you feel like you're in paradise. the old woodworkings of the house bring out the natural architecture that it has. family photos line the walls, generations of portraits up the staircase and down the halls. encompassed by the atmosphere of the inn, you don't even notice the front desk until a throat is cleared. looking over, you see a smile on the woman's face, her hands folded on the desk.

  "hi, my coworker and i got a little lost in the blizzard," you start, hand clutching your phone as you look up into the kind-looking woman's eyes, "and we were just wondering if you had any available rooms to stay in."

  she purses her lips, giving you a look that only a mother could procure. shaking her head slightly, she lets out a low sigh, "we only have one room dear, with one queen sized bed. i would recommend the both of you go to the next hotel or inn, but with the weather and how far they are..." 

  "right. well, does the room have a couch or anything?"

  "no, unfortunately the only room is quite small. it comes with an en-suite but it doesn't have enough room for other accommodations, i'm so sorry," the innkeeper stands before you, giving you an apologetic look through her lips and sunken eyebrows.

  just as you're about to say something, oikawa opens the door, walking up to you. snow covers his hair, sticking to the strands as some start to lose their shape beneath the heat. holding both bags, he sets them down beside you, looking between you and who you assume to be the owner. returning your gaze to the woman, you nod, deciding that it's the only option the two of you have.

  knowing oikawa is gonna give you flack for whatever you do, you realize it's your best bet, "okay, we'll take the room."

  "room-"

  looking to him, he soon realizes that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under. closing his lips into a straight line, he watches as you use the company card to pay for the evening, grabbing the key from the lady. “it's beautifully crafted, like the rest of the home,” you nod, looking around. but oikawa can't stop looking at only you and seeing a kind side to you that he doesn't normally see. not when you both push each other's buttons more often than not.

  grabbing your bag from the ground, you thank the woman, giving her a soft nod. "let's go find our room," you sigh, looking back to oikawa, waiting for him to grab his bag and head up the stairs with you.

  following the line of portraits and photographs of the land, you see the closed doors, light shining out the bottom of only a couple of them. "so what did you mean by room?" oikawa whispers, leaning his head towards your's as he walks solemnly behind you.

  "exactly what i said... they have one room left. and we're not going back out into the storm. not when the other places are as far out as they are," you whisper back, making sure that none of the people working here could hear the two of you squabbling over the rooms.

  walking up to room four, you stick the key in, opening the door slowly. inside is a freshly made bed, a quilt comforter over white sheets with patterned pillowcases. it feels warm, not necessarily the temperature, which has settled to a comforting degree. but rather, it feels welcoming. the electric fireplace by the bathroom wall, the painting of rolling hills above the bed.

  oikawa looks inside from behind you, body nearly pressing up against your's. "so, left or right side?" he questions, peering down at you as you look back at him.

  shaking your head, you let out a short laugh. "well, i usually take the left side of my own bed..." you set your bag down by the wall, turning back to oikawa with a smile on your face, eyebrows raised.

  "there's some benefits to us being opposites then," he walks over to the right side of the bed, setting his bag down by the foot of the bed.

  you take in a deep breath, wondering how you're going to get through the next night or two with him. with how he jokes, how he looks at you with his glossy eyes. and especially, with how different the two of you are. narrowing your eyes, you nod, feeling like a deer in headlights.

  "well, i'm gonna get ready in the bathroom... i won't take too long or anything," you awkwardly step towards your bag, grabbing a change of clothes and your toiletries.

  walking towards the bathroom, you look back at him for a moment, cracking a smile. he's searching through his bag for something, eyebrows furrowed. oikawa always has such a determined look on his face, and only now did you notice the quirks that he carries. the way his tongue sticks out or his hand reaches to run through his hair. shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality.

  closing the door behind you, you start getting ready. you put on a matching pair of pajamas and start washing your face. it’s a soothing moment for you, time to yourself so you can truly relax before facing him again. 

  uncapping your toothbrush, you run it under the water first, letting the bristles loosen. leaving a trail of toothpaste on the brush, you bring it up to your mouth, brushing while you grab your phone. checking the screen, you notice it's getting late, and since you have to get up fairly early to get back on the road... your brain stops thinking of the future when you hear something fall.

  setting down your phone quickly, you unlock and pull open the door. there stands oikawa, shirtless, with his phone on the ground. immediately you look away, looking up towards the ceiling so you don't have to meet his gaze again. "sorry, dropped my phone."

  nodding, you turn back into the bathroom, spitting the toothpaste back into the sick. your mind relays the short moment, like it's something you see but nearly every part of you wants to ignore or forget. nearly every part of you. rinsing the toothbrush back down, you set it down beside the sink. "yeah, i was wondering if you tripped and fell. happy i don't have to call for help or anything," you shrug your shoulders, stepping back into the room and turning the bathroom light off.

  when you step out, he's throwing his shirt on. bringing it down over his head and down his torso. looking away once more, you find your cheeks warming up. "unlike you, i'm not a total klutz," oikawa walks over to the side of the bed, pulling back the comforter and top sheet, tossing one of the extra pillows onto a dresser. 

  "no, but you seem to not like comfort. one pillow is not nearly enough for a comfortable sleep," you join him on your side, pulling back the sheets but keeping your gaze on his, hands moving on their own.

  oikawa shakes his head, finally being the one to back down from your gaze. he looks over to your two, and then to his that he tossed off, "well if you like comfort so much, feel free to take mine. and it is comfortable, in fact it's actually nice to keep my neck from hurting."

  "i will gladly take your pillow and i'll stuff it between us," you walk over, grabbing the pillow off the dresser and onto the bed.

  the two of you simultaneously get onto the bed, kneeling face to face, inches apart. he stares at you for a second, swallowing, adam's apple bobbing. clenching your jaw, you lean back and sit on your leg, letting the other rest along the bed. you look at your phone, no notifications filling your screen, leaving the two of you with an awkward silence. 

  bringing your leg out with the other, you pull the comforter and sheet on. you quickly set your phone down on the bedside table and hope that the drowsiness of the night will help drown the tension. "you have a light switch near you, right?" oikawa asks, bringing the sheets up on his side as well, mirroring you.

  "yeah," you whisper, your voice quiet as you reach over and flick the spare light switch down, "okay, goodnight."

  the two of you sit in silence. and despite the shades drawn and the sun down, you can't seem to cut the intense feeling you both carry. oikawa clears his throat only a couple of minutes in of laying there. it breaks the tension for only a moment before the two of you are lying there on your backs, wondering what to do.

  "if we weren't on a business trip i'd say it'd be fun to go sledding or build a snowman," oikawa mentions and you hear his pillow shift, his head turning towards you.

  turning your head towards his, you nod against your pillow. "i don't know, i'm partial to snowball fights i think," your shoulders shrug, only able to see his eyes and his outline in the darkness.

  "of course you'd be," he scoffs, turning his head back, eyes staring forward.

  "god, you are so annoying," you shake your head, staring forward as well, "goodnight for good now." 

  turning away from him, you feel your lips turn up into a smile. something about him makes you so annoyed, so frustrated. but it also makes life so much more exciting, making it not so bad. oikawa started feeling the same way when he woke up early in the morning, arm wrapped around you. the pillow had been thrown to the ground, and your hair was in his face, but it all felt so good.

a/n: longest oneshot i’ve ever done and it’s an oikawa fic… gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy

[wyvernest]

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)