#tat prod

[laneywrld]

Oh Baby | part two

part two.

word count: 10.8k

Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy

The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.

You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning. 

"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."

You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad. 

He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.

The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning. 

If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.

You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up. 

"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."

The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other. 

Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side. 

His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.

"We need t'sleep."

He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.

You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate. 

"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."

Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.

Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world. 

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.

He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.

Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life. 

Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.

"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.

-

You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.

"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.

You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.

There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten. 

You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise. 

You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.

You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.

He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"

You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"

"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.

"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"

Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.

"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off. 

Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.

You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.

You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.

"Last night was fun," He hummed.

You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.

"I want to address what we-"

You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.

"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."

"I don't-"

"It was a mistake," you rambled on.

Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.

"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.

"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."

Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.

There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.

"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."

He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.

He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny. 

"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts. 

His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.

"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."

You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.

"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"

"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"

"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?" 

He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other. 

"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.

"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"

"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.

"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes. 

Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.

"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."

"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."

"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.

"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"

And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.

And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.

But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.

You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.

"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."

Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"

He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.

You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."

You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.

He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.

He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny. 

You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave? 

You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely. 

When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this. 

-

Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend. 

You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.

He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.

You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.

Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you. 

-

Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes. 

He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.

When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.

Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."

Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good. 

He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.

Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.

The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school. 

Hello Lewis,

I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will. 

Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.

p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder. 

From Bunny. <3

-

One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.

His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.

Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.

He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well. 

He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.

He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture. 

He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races. 

Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week. 

*

You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.

When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high. 

Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by. 

Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.

You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.

You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed. 

All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner. 

The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.

Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.

"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.

"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"

Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you. 

You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front. 

"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."

You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."

When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.

A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces. 

You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck. 

So much for being able to avoid him.

You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.

You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.

"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime. 

"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"

"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."

It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.

Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads. 

You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.

This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht. 

You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it. 

Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet. 

An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins. 

He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?

And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other. 

Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.

"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"

"What's happened, my boy?"

Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.

"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.

Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?" 

Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.

"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."

You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."

"No, sir."

He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face. 

"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."

Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses. 

"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."

"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.

"Well, Yes, sir."

"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.

You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis. 

This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.

You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.

Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty. 

You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.

Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory. 

"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.

"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him. 

"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.

"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."

There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."

Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.

It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.

He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.

He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.

You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now. 

Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart. 

"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."

When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you. 

"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.

"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.

"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles. 

You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction. 

"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing. 

He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.

"Wow."

"Wow, what, Lewis?"

"So I'm Lewis now?" 

"Is that not your name?" You snap back.

You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.

"Not to you, you know that though."

"Nicknames are for friends." 

"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.

"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"

 you both childishly bicker back and forth.

“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."

"I've got a right to be mean to you."

"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.

"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."

"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."

"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.

"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.

"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."

"I wasn't about to call you a bitch." 

Yeah, again, you think. 

You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.

"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"

"That's my dad for you."

"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."

"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.

"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."

"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."

He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.

"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."

"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."

And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.

Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.

"You okay, bunny?"

You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.

You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics. 

"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent. 

And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.

"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.

You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.

"I'm still mad at you." You declare.

"I know." 

"I still want an apology."

"I'm sorry."

You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.

This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off. 

"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."

Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.

"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."

Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."

His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."

"But you never called me."

"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.

"I thought you were finally done with me."

"Never that."

"Are we okay?" You examine.

"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured. 

And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.

He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."

"I love you more." 

You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above. 

"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.

"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."

"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face. 

-

"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.

"What's that?"

"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."

Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in. 

He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.

That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him. 

"What?" You question.

"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."

"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.

"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again. 

"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.

He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else. 

Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.

As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.

You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.

You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.

"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.

She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout. 

"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.

"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."

"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."

You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.

You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."

Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."

-

Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.

 She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.

"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."

When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.

You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."

"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.

You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.

"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you. 

"I think you are, though."

Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.

"Whit." It's all you say.

"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."

"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.

She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.

"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"

"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"

"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"

As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.

Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together. 

You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain. 

Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.

"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.

"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.

"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.

You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"

The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.

"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.

She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face. 

You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.

When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.

"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."

"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.

"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.

"I need to tell Lewis."

"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."

You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.

"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.

"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"

"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."

"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders. 

"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.

"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"

You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.

There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.

"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."

You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.

He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.

"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."

He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."

You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"

"Are you sure?"

You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"

"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"

"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."

"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."

"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.

"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."

"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"

"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.

"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"

"Yes, but."

"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."

"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."

"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."

"What about everyone else? What will they say?"

"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."

"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"

"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."

"Lewis, they're going to-"

"Once again, I don't care what people think."

"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."

"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.

"My child," you state, mushing his head back.

His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."

"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"

"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.

This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."

"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.

He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.

"Lew, that's not realistic."

"Why not?" He scoffs.

"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"

"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."

He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."

"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.

"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day." 

"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.

"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.

"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."

"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.

"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.

"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one." 

"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow. 

"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?" 

You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.

"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.

"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.

"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."

He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."

You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."

Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been. 

You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold. 

And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too. 

Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.

I luv luv luv y'all.

so here's part two!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

[anemptypuddingcup]

"I'm going to fill you over and over again until I make sure you carry my babies." With Law pleaseee😫😫

“I’ll keep filling you up until you overflow.”

Law had sat there on the edge of his bed, his body bare and revealing every inch of his skin and body to you. You stared up at him with a deep blush spread across your face, your body all dolled up and dressed in beautiful yet skimpy lingerie.

Like a pretty porcelain doll to play with and dirty up.

“Aren’t you beautiful? Do you like what you see?” He asked, uncrossing his legs and spreading himself open revealing his already hardened cock to you. You nodded your head, crawling closer to him and pressing your soft and pretty hands against his thighs.

He smiles and pulls you up into his lap, his dick practically prodding and pulsating against your drenched slit. He rubs the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack, making you mewl out before throwing your head softly. “So sexy aren’t you, fuck your pussy is soaking. Fuck.” Law huffed, scooting back and pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Traffy~ I don’t wanna keep waiting~” You whimpered, sliding down along the bed and arching your back. You lift you ass up into the air and wiggled your hips a bit, riling up Law and making him groan out hungrily. “Fuck, needy little slut aren’t ya?” He hisses out, grabbing your hips and pulling them against up against his dick.

He runs his rough and tatted-hands along your soft and adorable ass, biting his lower lip. He slides his tip along your sticky and soaking entrance and you mewl out while you look back at him with needy eyes.

“Cmon Traffy~ Don’t keep me waiting any longer~” You whine out to him, giving him a little pout.

☆ ☆ ☆

His body kept your body pressed deep into the mattress, his heavy breaths falling into your ears while he pounded deep into your pussy. “N-No more~ S-Slow down please Traffyyyy~” You begged, huffing out heavily while his cock continuously kissed you cervix. Your pussy was overfilled with his cum and you were dripping with cum. Cum was spilling out of your pussy as it was filled to the brim.

You were sure he was trying to make you pregnant and swollen with his kids. “Shhh~ Just keep taking my dick baby girl~ I love it when your pussy is full and dripping with my fucking seed.” He growls, his little stubble scratching against your shoulder. You mewl and shudder at his voice and words.

His hips begins to increase in speed and your moans grow louder as his thrust grew a bit sloppier. “Fuck!~ F-Fuck Traffy!” You gasp out, gripping the quilt tightly while Law played with your breasts. “Cum again, I wanna feel you tighten and squirt on my dick~” Her whispers to you, a growl leaving his lips once again.

“Fuck! Oh god! Fuck I’m cumming again!~” You gasp out, laying your head against the soft quilt beneath your body. Law presses a smooch to your ear and pinches your nipples, pushing your over edge. “Fuck! Fuck!~” You whined out shakily, your body shuddering as you felt yourself bursting. Your brows furled and you bit your lower lip tightly as you squirt out onto the quilt with a heavy gasp.

Law chuckles as he watched you cum before your slowly relaxed your body. “Ahhh~ T-Traffy~” You mewl out shakily, looking back to him before giving him a loving smooch.

“Don’t move, I’m not stopping until I see your stomach full.” He huffs out, keeping you in place.

[viridwns]

Can I get a fic about kidnapped reader and yandere Chrollo on a road trip of some kind and she’s like “let me get the aux” because let’s face it Chrollo’s taste in music is not gonna be road trip friendly and she’s just like jamming out to like Sexxy Red and Doja Cat and Flo Rida? Like I feel like that’s the complete opposite type of music he would listen to and she’s over there having a whole concert

Yan!Chrollo lucilfer x reader

Warning(s): mild cussing, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, one sentence is about implied dubcon

A/N: Quick drabble to try and get out of my writing slump. Too lazy to check for errors, sorry pookies.

WC: I honestly dk, I wrote this on my mobile😭

Antithetical

You loathed car rides with Chrollo. His 'work' forced him to travel a lot, meaning road trips that would usually exceed six hours with no rest stops or pee breaks to avoid being spotted by the wrong people.

Only if you were bursting—on the verge of kidney poisoning—would Chrollo force you to do your business in some random bushes alongside the road.

The close proximity of the metal box had you pushing yourself as far as you could against the door—enjoying the cool steel against your boiling skin.

It was well into summer, and even though you only wore a loose T-shirt from Chrollo and way too large gym shorts, your body didn't seem to regulate the heat.

Chrollo, the non-human that he is, didn't seem bothered by the blazing sun in the slightest. Wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black, wide-legged trousers secured by a just as dark belt.

You could not spot one drop of sweat on his sickly pale skin.

The AC of the car was blasting in your face, helping a great deal to chase away the uncomfortable warmth. The noise it made was loud, but still not loud enough to overpower the radio.

Chrollo was a control freak through in through. You were used to it by now, but you hadn't expected it to extend all the way to what music was playing in the car.

Car rides with Chrollo were already unbearable. He was a macho driver, thinking you would fall head over heels if he parked with one hand, but even though he tried to look tough, he drove like a grandma—he didn't want any attention, getting pulled over or driving too noticeable could mess up his plans. He also had the need to have one hand rest on your thigh for the whole entirety of the ride, be it five minutes or fifteen hours. He loved prodding at your mind in these long hours; asking you deep and personal questions that would have you reeling by the end of the drive.

But the one thing that icked you the most was his taste in music.

These rides could be long—this one a nice thirteen hours from the last place he kept you—and sleeping could only cover half, if not less. You needed a distraction from the man next to you and his tongue; blasting some good tunes for example.

Für Elise wasn't one of those tunes.

Chrollo had a thing for classical music; befitting his dark academia style as he also loved to read older literature and collect antiques.

And you didn't mind it most of the time—you had to admit that some songs were enjoyable to listen to.

But not for thirteen hours on end.

With one-fourth of the journey done, no desire to sleep, and Chrollo humming along to his playlist, you finally had enough.

"Chrollo, can I have the aux?" You asked, head slightly turning to look at the raven haired man while still holding your place in front of the AC.

You had asked Chrollo this question multiple times, but he always found a way to go around it.

Chrollo squeezed your thigh, making you press yourself further against the door.

His eyes remained focused on the road, but his grin was a tell-tale sign that this was going to be a mind war again.

"And why do you want that?" He replied, turning the radio down a tat to hear you better.

You sighed.

"Because we've been listening to your music since the beginning of the trip." You sat up straight when Chrollo started nodding along with your words.

"Okay, but this music is relaxing. It doesn't distract me from the traffic around me. You don't want us to end up in an accident, no?" He said, sparing you a quick glance.

You pursed your lips.

It was hard to pinpoint where he used manipulation tactics exactly in your conversations.

You were able to pick it up rather quickly now, though.

You turned to him, lips in a thin line.

"Chrollo, this is torturing my ears." You pointed at the radio to emphasize your meaning.

He laughed.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused"

You gave him a sharp glare as he lightly rolled his eyes.

You had to give him a challenge of sorts. You knew he liked the thrill of those—the need to prove that he is capable of overcoming anything in his way.

"You're so dramatic about other people's music tastes. You hate listening to anything other than your own playlist. You don't even know other music genres," you started, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping in the passenger's seat.

As you were about to speak again, Chrollo interjected.

"Rock, Indie, metal, pop, electronic, blues, jazz—should I continue?"

He smiled as he faced you for a second before looking at the road again.

"Nice try, love, but implying that I don't know something is a dead give away of your schemes." Chrollo mused, patting your thigh.

He was mocking you, he saw right through your plan. You were stupid to think you could outwit him.

One day though.

One day you will.

You grumbled before slumping back in your seat, craning your neck to meet the frigid wind of the airconditioner.

The car was silent now except for the violins harmonizing on the radio. You were mere seconds away from taking the wheel and crashing the vehicle just for a few seconds of peace.

Chrollo sighed. You perked up at this. He wasn't too keen on already having you on edge this early in the trip. Every time that happened, you two would fight every day because you were petty like that.

He hands you his phone. You slowly take it with a quirked brow as your straighten your back.

"Fine, go ahead then."

You peer at him, suspicion running high.

"This isn't a trick?"

"No."

"I'm not getting in trouble if I change the music?"

"No."

"I don't have to give you a blow job while you're driving if I do this?"

"If you insist—"

You push the phone his way. Chrollo laughs before throwing you a wink. He nudges the device back with his shoulder.

"There are no catches here. I swear. Play your music."

You throw him uncertain glances as you open the music app; one of the only apps it had. He had bought this phone with you in mind. Shalnark modified it, so only Chrollo's number was on it, and no other numbers could be dialed. It also contained a few games. Like uno, you played that online with a few of the other phantom members. It kept you sane when you were locked in and alone for days on end.

You scrolled through your playlists, Chrollo only had one, and that was the 'liked songs' album.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you clicked your 'God better not see this one' list.

You could only feel a little victorious as you watched Chrollo's face sour when boss bitch by Doja Cat blasts from the radio.

You scream the lyrics in his face as you start moving your arms with the rhythm of the music.

It felt so good to just jam out to your songs for once. You ignored the pointed look of Chrollo when the next number that came on was CPR by CupcakKe.

A twinge of happiness tugged at your heart as you realized Chrollo would suffer a hundred times more in these few hours than you did and probably will do in all the carrides that have and will happen.

At least that was what you thought, but as you were about to bellow 'I save dick by giving it CPR' in your kidnapper's ear, he was looking at you with this love sick expression.

Eyes twinkly, stupidly handsome smile on his face and a total lack of concentration of his surroundings.

You felt your stomach lurch, and without a second thought, you put on the four seasons by vivaldi; almost breaking the screen in process.

You dropped the phone on your lap and crossed your arms. Your good mood only lasted three seconds before Chrollo decided to throw acid over it.

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before returning his eyes to the road.

You felt stupid for buying his lies once again.

"You planned that, didn't you." It was more a statement than a question that came out of your mouth as you pushed your back against the cardoor.

Chrollo hummed as his hand found your thigh again, continuing his finger tapping along with the music.

You huff.

That was all you could do in response to him.

One thing was for certain: you would never play your music again, even if Chrollo begged you to.

[tired-and-ticklish]

Back On The Air

Sequel to Broadcast Interference

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic, so if that isn’t your thing, then just ignore this. 

Summary: Vox learns there are consequences to messing with the Radio Demon.

TW: Tickling (Intense, seriously), Swearing, Restraints, Vox and Alastor are both Bastard Men, Mentions of Cannibalism

Alastor hummed, looking over his captive. There were many things he could do Vox, ranging from eating him to ripping his soul apart, but he always believed in a little ‘tit for tat’, so to speak. Speaking of the TV Overlord, he seemed to be switching between trying to escape, and glaring at the Radio Demon so intensely, like he was trying to set him ablaze.

“Come now, did you really think I would just let you get away with your transgressions?” Alastor asked, standing in front of the trapped TV.

“No, I thought you were so old and senile you’d forget.” Vox taunted, grinning down at the Radio Demon.

“And you thought I was pushing my luck?” Alastor hummed as his eyes scanned the TV, looking for a good place to start.

Well, as a cannibal, he did always have a preference for ribs. He gave Vox no time to react, quickly skittering his fingers over the area. Vox jolted, biting his lip (did he even really have lips with having a television for a head?), not wanting to give Alastor the satisfaction of breaking him so easily. That was fine, Alastor preferred the slow approach to torturing his victims.

“I-It’s no use, y-y-y-you fossil.” Vox tried to keep his laughter at bay, but Alastor’s ears twitched as he heard it. A snicker here, a chortle there. 

“And now you’re going to try and lie to me on top of everything else?” Alastor tutted. “Perhaps you need to be taught some manners.”

“S-S-Shove it up your ass-” Vox started, only to snort as the deer’s fingers moved to his sides.

“You really just keep digging yourself deeper, Vox.” Alastor hummed. “First, you break into the hotel-”

“Thehehe dohohohohor wahahahas unlohoho- SHIHIHIHIT-” Vox screamed as Alastor tickled faster.

“Don’t interrupt me.” Alastor growled, continuing to dance his fingers up and down Vox’s sides. “Secondly, you steal hotel property-”

“Thehehehe fuhuhuhuhuck ahahahare yohohoohhu tahahahalking abohohoh- FUHUHUHUCKING HEHEHEHEEELLL!” 

“Since you obviously need a reminder,” Alastor said as his hands moved dangerously close to Vox’s hips. “You drank from Husker’s bar while he isn’t even here, you made a mess of the hotel, attacked the hotel sponsor, myself, and then made the foolish mistake of testing me.”

“Nohohohot mihihihihy fahahhaault youhohohohou’re sohohohoho fuhuhuhcking tihihihcklish!” Vox exclaimed, trying to glare at the deer demon.

Alastor leaned in close, his voice low. “So this is a fitting punishment.”

Before another snarky remark could leave the TV Overlord’s mouth, Alastor’s hands were suddenly upon his hips. Vox let out a surprised squeal at the contact, much to the Radio Demon’s amusement.

“GEHEHEHEET AAHAHAHAHWAHAHAHAY!”

“My my, so easy to read~” Alastor teased with a chuckle, slowly circling his claws on Vox’s hips. “I take it this is a good place to stay for a while then~?”

“EHEHEHEHEHAT SHIHIHIHIHIHIT!” Vox replied, trying his best to at least pull one of his legs out so he could kick Alastor away from him. The tendrils held strong, obviously not ready to let the TV Demon go until the Radio Demon was satisfied. 

“Seems like you agree!” As if to accentuate his point, the Radio Demon’s claws dug into the spot, kneading and squeezing as much as he desired. 

Vox’s laughter went up an octave as Alastor continued to tickle his hips. No matter how desperately he tried, the TV Demon couldn’t escape the Radio Demon’s claws, poking, prodding, squeezing and spidering all over his hips. After a few more moments, Alastor stopped, allowing Vox a moment of respite.

“Okay.. you prick, you got your revenge. Now let me go!” Vox growled, Alastor simply chuckled.

“Oh, I can’t do that just yet, old friend.” Alastor hummed, looking the TV Demon over a bit. “There’s still so much more to punish you for.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Charming as ever, Vox.” Alastor hummed, getting an idea. “You know, all this fighting has left me quite famished, and I see a nice little meal in front of me~”

More shadowy tendrils appeared, ripping open the TV Overlord’s jacket and shirt, just as he had done to the Radio Demon. Vox’s eyes widened, threats flying out of his mouth as Alastor leaned down by his stomach. His threats and pleas fell on deaf ears as the deer began to lightly nibble on his stomach.

“Fuuhuhuck! Fuhuhuhck stohohohohhop!”

The Radio Demon paid him no mind, nibbling and biting Vox’s stomach, his sharp teeth adding to the ticklish feeling. Unlike many of the demons of Hell, the TV Overlord lacked any animal features, making the rest of his body hairless, and thus, even more susceptible to bites, nibbles, and raspberries.

“I-Ihihihih’m gohohoohhing to kihihihihilll yohoho-” Vox tried to threaten, only to be cut off by his own squealing as Alastor blew a raspberry right on his navel. “FUHUHUHUHUCK!”

And, just to make it worse, because Alastor was a prick, he squeezed Vox’s hips, pinching and tickling them once again.

“DAHAHAHAHAAHMN HIHIHIHIHIT STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!”

The raspberries, bites, and nibbles continued for a while, as well as the squeezes and pinches to Vox’s hips. Soon, however, the Radio Demon grew bored of the spot, stopping his attack. The TV Demon caught his breath, glaring at Alastor.

“Are you fucking finished?!” Vox growled.

“Hmmm, nope. There’s one more spot I wish to try.”

Alastor’s eyes drifted up toward Vox’s TV antenna, tilting his head curiously at the sight. Vox seemed to notice this, watching as the Radio Demon’s hands moved toward his antenna. Before the TV Overlord could yell at the deer to get away, he felt it, Alastor’s fingers rubbing and stroking the antenna.

Vox lost it.

“F-FUHU-FUHUH-FUUHUHUCK NHOHOH-NOHHO-NOHHOT THEHEHEHERE!” He exclaimed, his voice glitching as he was tickled. 

“Oh~?” Alastor hummed, rather amused. “Is the TV buffering again?”

“NNOHOHOH-NOHOH- NOHOHOH!”

“Goodness, such a reaction and only from a few little tickles~” Alastor was enjoying this quite a bit. “You know, I thought of another reason why radio is the vastly superior entertainment option.”

“SHOHOH-SHOHOHOHO- SHOHOHOHVE YOHOHOHOUR REHEHE- REHEHEHE- REHEHEASON UP YOOHOHO- YOHOHOHOUR AHAHAHA- AHAHAHA- AAHAHHAASS!”

“Consider this; I could easily broadcast your laughter all over Hell! Wouldn’t that be fun~? No one even has to see your face to know how badly I’m tormenting you. I could just simply describe what I’m doing, letting every single denizen of Hell know exactly what breaks you~!”

“DOOHOHOHN’T-DOHHOHOHN’T YOUHOHOHOH DAHAHA-HAHAHAHA-DAHAHAHRE!”

“Imagine what the masses would think about this? ‘Back on air, the Radio Demon, featuring a very, very ticklish special guest~!’ It would be quite embarrassing for you, wouldn’t it?” Alastor chuckled, delighted by the idea. “I wonder how your employees would feel, knowing that their boss loses all his composure from a few well placed pokes.”

Vox laughed even harder from Alastor’s teasing, the deer’s ears picking up the sound of the TV’s internal fans kicking on to cool his internals down. This only made Alastor even more amused, laughing to himself at how easy it was to completely fluster the TV Overlord. How he wished he could keep this up all day.

Sadly, Charlie and the others would return soon, and even though Alastor was not killing Vox or hurting him, he really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. After a few more slow, agonizingly ticklish strokes to the TV’s antenna, he backed away. As Vox caught his breath, the shadowy tendrils unceremoniously dropped him onto the floor.

“F…fuhuuhuhcking Hell…” Vox panted, a few more snickers escaping as he composed himself. “You’re evil.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a powerful Overlord if I was kind.” Alastor chuckled. The TV rolled his eyes as he got up. “Now, we should fix this place up, before the others-” “What the fuck happened to the hotel?!” Vaggie’s voice interrupted, both Overlords turning to see the group had returned.

The bodyguard looked positively pissed that parts of the hotel had been damaged in Alastor and Vox’s fight. Charlie was staring at both of them in shock. Niffty, despite the smile on her face, was seething at how messy the hotel now was. Husker and Angel had both had tubs of popcorn, clearly about to enjoy whatever show was going to happen, until the bartender saw the broken bottles around the bar.

“Well, that seems like my cue to leave.” Vox said, straightening up, before giving Charlie a respectful bow. “Terribly sorry about the hotel, your highness.”

He didn’t sound sorry at all. With a small zap!, Vox had sent himself away through the hotel’s TV, leaving the Radio Demon to suffer with the consequences of the slightly ruined hotel. Of course the TV Overlord would leave him to deal with the incoming lecture and yelling from Vaggie, as well as Charlie’s disappointed scolding.

“Before you all get yourselves in a twist, I’ve already told you I would not let my new project fall into disrepair.” As Alastor said this, he snapped his fingers, his shadow minions quickly appearing and getting to work fixing and cleaning up his and Vox’s mess.

“Why was Mista Vox here anyway?” Angel asked, before noticing Alastor’s torn shirt and jacket, and smirking slightly. “Oooh ho-”

“Because he likes to be a thorn in my side.” Alastor interrupted. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Hey, ya don’t gotta explain yourself ta’ me, Smiles~” Angel teased, only to yelp as Alastor smacked him on the head with his cane.

“Yeah well, can you try to keep your fights with other Overlords out of the hotel?” Vaggie sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Or whatever hate-fucking you two do.”

“I can assure you all, I’m not interested in anything of the sort. Especially not with Vox of all demons.” Alastor growled dangerously, a clear sign to end this train of thought.

“Um, Al, I appreciate you protecting the hotel.” Charlie began, getting between the Radio Demon and the others. “But, like Vaggie said, couldn’t you have done it outside?”

“Had I known he was showing up, I would have taken things outside.” The Radio Demon responded, looking at his nails casually, like he was already bored of the conversation. “Too bad he left before I could get him to replace the alcohol he stole from Husker’s bar.”

“That motherfucker!” Husk exclaimed, quickly going to the bar to check the damages and see how much alcohol was missing.

Despite the headache that came with having to explain himself, Alastor had learned something very interesting today, as did Vox. Something that would make their future encounters much more entertaining. Perhaps the TV Overlord wasn’t as boring as the Radio Demon thought.

[reiden]

talking nonsense | h.iwaizumi

You and Iwaizumi discuss his most recent piercing. And he's a little bit in love with you.

cw: 18+, gn!reader, suggestive, pining

— ✦

You keep your hands pressed firmly against the paper, coated in some kind of unknown substance Iwaizumi is not artsy enough to identify. It covers your hands and the shade of pink you've decided to paint your nails for the week, appearing in splotches up your wrist and ending midway on your forearms. Somehow, none of it gets on the sweater you're wearing. 

His sweater — the one he purposefully left behind for you, not that you know. In your eyes, Iwaizumi is just a bit forgetful and if his clothes are in your home then it's fair game to be worn by you. Finders, borrowers; he wouldn't mind if you chose to keep it, though. His clothes always look better on you than they do on him. 

You bounce a bit, putting extra pressure onto the paper beneath your palms. Your shorts ride up the expanse of your thigh, creasing and bunching by your hip, and the heat that licks up Iwaizumi's spine has him just barely biting back a curse. He's not just here to admire — though he finds himself doing so regardless when it comes to you — he's here for an opinion. 

"You don't think it's too much?" he asks, tilting his head to the side so you can see clearer. The simple silver hoop hanging from his ear. You groan and he clicks his tongue.

He watches you lean back, letting go of your paper mâché creation to lean against the foot of your emerald green couch (bought at a yard sale by you; picked up and moved in by Iwaizumi). "For the last time Haji, if I really thought it was too much I would have told you already." Your lips quirk to the side as you huff out a laugh, "Plus, it's one earring — hardly anything to scoff at."

Iwaizumi clicks his tongue, narrowing his eyes, "What? You want me to get all tatted up? Piercings everywhere?" He says it sarcastically; you pick up on it but you're tilting your head to the side as though you're seriously considering it. Your gaze warms his cheeks and leaves his mouth feeling dry.

"I think you'd suit a tattoo or two," you hum, turning back to your project. You bring your hand up and make a half-hearted attempt at scratching your cheek, smearing some of the paste against your skin. "Another earring — a helix this time." You bend forward, getting closer to your creation with scrutiny in your eyes. Iwaizumi tries not to let his gaze linger, all but whipping his head to the side to stop himself from tracing the dip of your spine under your (his) sweater. 

He fails, unable to turn away completely. Some rational part of him reminds him that you're his best friend — one of the few people he's managed to get really close to in this new environment and new university — but he eyes you through his peripheral anyway. Your shorts ride up further. Iwaizumi digs his nails into his palms and shifts around in his seat. 

And then, you're looking up suddenly, meeting his stare with an intensity that leaves him feeling glued to the chair he's sitting on. He laughs, wedges some humour into his words, "Think we should slow down." You're smiling, plump lips — soft lips, he's sure of it — parting to just a sliver of your teeth. 

"Just think about it," you say, pausing your poking and prodding at your project. "I can think of some other piercings you could rock." It's a quick mumble, followed by the split-second drop of your eyes past the tense line of his jaw, past his shoulders, past his hips. What you're insinuating is not lost on him, but it does take him by surprise.

Iwaizumi draws in a sharp breath. You refocus your attention on your project. 

"In case you ever wanted any recommendations," you tack on, words just a touch above a whisper.

He can't figure you out. Or perhaps, he has and the realisation hasn't quite dawned on him yet. It will — when he's gone back to his own apartment and he's sitting on his own couch, he'll finally put two and two together. Iwaizumi hopes that by then, he'll have worked up the courage to do something about it.

In all honesty, it's taking every bit of restraint left in him to keep himself planted on this chair, far from you and those damn shorts and his damn sweater. He wants to tell you he loves you, and then maybe fuck you right into that emerald green couch he helped you haul into your apartment a few months ago. Instead, he says, "You seem like you've given this a lot of thought."

"Obviously," you answer without a shred of hesitation. "I'm always thinking about you, Hajime."

There is one thing Iwaizumi Hajime can be certain of and it's that you will absolutely be the death of him.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. biceps.

about. idk the idea of riding pro hero!bakugou’s bicep could heal me? minors blank and ageless blogs dni, nsfw, smut, afab!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

just the idea of him lifting you up with his brute strength, looking up at you with those dark, blood red eyes like he’s begging you to do it — he knows that you want to. “use me sweetness, wanna see you make yourself feel good.” flexing the muscle between your thighs, his bicep bulging against the puffy nub nestled between your slick folds.

of course it makes you shy at first, you’re literally riding his arm — but you can’t help the way the thick muscle makes your stomach twist in knots. bakugou’s hot palm splayed against the small dip in your back doesn’t do much to help either, guiding your movements as you straddle the rest of his arm, your clear juices glossing over the pretty blue veins that twist around his limb.

“look at you, all fuckin’ riled up from riding my fuckin’ arm,” he’d laugh at how you shudder on top of him, your face hot but your head tipped back pleasure every time his muscle ripples against your soaked and ravaged pussy. “such a freak. she’s ruined down ‘ere.”

maybe he’ll let you buck your hips down on him, listen to that sticky clit slap against your name tatted in a loop around the firmest part of his arm while bakugou’s other hand grabs and squeezes at your hips, your ass, your thighs — his tongue spilling silver lined praises that shoot straight up your spine and ghost over your brain to dumb you down.

eventually those very hands will take purchase on your hips and lift you off his arm despite how you whinge in protest — groaning in awe at the clear, strong strings of your slick that connect your cunt to katsuki’s muscles — smeared along thick black inked tattoos and sun kissed skin.

“katsuki…please.”

“messy, messy.” he purrs proudly with a lick of his pretty pink lips, grinning as your pussy quiver above him. the dull edge of his fingertips prods af your sticky folds, glued together by your wetness — earning a shudder from you. “good enough to fuckin’ eat.”

by some grace of god, you find your voice — tiny and embarrassed. “t-then do it, what are you waiting for?”

“you sure you wanna be teasin’ me?” bakugou spanks your ass firmly before pulling apart the fleshy globes of your cheeks to watch you drip from between them, your juices splattering down onto his washboard abs and salty skin. “come sit on it for me, let me make you cum f’me, baby.” he rasps, goading you into straddling his face as he nastily inhales the raw and delicious scent of your sex.

“ride my face, make a mess all on me. just like ya do with the rest of me.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[sanjoongie]

𝕮𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌

ღPairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader (f) ღAu: sugar daddy au, rich! hongjoong, ballerina au, poor!reader ღTrope: one sided pining, acquaintances to lovers ღRated: 18+ MDNI, smut, pwp ღWarnings: sugar daddy themes, sex for money, pre-agreed upon free use, rough sex, spit play, oral, fingering, manhandling, sex without a condom, choking, finger sucking, degradation, multiple orgasms, slight corruption kink if you squint, dacryphilia, ass slapping ღWord Count: 1,632 ღSummary: with no where to go but to the man who is willing to pay money for access to your body, you give it to him for twenty four hours in order to pay rent ღDedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for suffering through the beta-ing of this fic 😜

The first time you offered your body up to Kim Hongjoong, he smiled with all of his teeth and none of his eyes.

“What am I, your tithe lord?” The problem with Kim Hongjoong is that he was smart… and he knew it.

You were terrified of not making rent and Hongjoong had been offering to be your sugar daddy for a while now. Well, he had wanted to be in your life at any capacity and the want extended to any way to get his claws into you. He'd take sugar daddy, at the very least, to get access to your sweet body.

“I've never had a ballerina,” Hongjoong announced when Wooyoung introduced you to his friend group.

Yunho sent him a look of disbelief and then extended his hand to shake yours. Yunho’s was serious. When Hongjoong pushed out a tatted hand, fuck you spelled out between one middle finger and the other, black nails chipped but there, you wrinkled your nose at him.

You were as clean-cut as could be. You were a ballerina after all. Someone like Hongjoong smelled of bad mistakes and lost causes. You knew to stay far away from him. 

But Hongjoong was having none of that. He pursued you relentlessly and was more smug than a cat with his cream that you were wringing your hands on his couch, tears in your eyes about your financial situation. 

“24 hours.”

You sniffled loudly. “Excuse me?”

“I get your body for 24 hours and I get unlimited access,” Hongjoong proposed.

“Are you…” You swallowed nervously, “Are you talking about free use?”

Hongjoong folded his arms behind his head. “Fuck you to my own personal preference. I’m not soft either, darling.”

“I…” You didn’t have much of a choice, did you? Either not pay rent or get fucked within an inch of your life. “Okay,” You nodded resolutely. 

It took Hongjoong all of a few minutes to send the money to you digitally and then he was moving down the couch, his thigh touching yours. “Twenty four hours starts now.”

Hongjoong stripped you of all your clothing until you were spread out on his bed, ripe for the taking. He spat on your cunt, letting a large glob gather at your hole, and then licked upwards with a grin. He worried at your clit roughly, sending sparks of pleasure immediately through your nerves, despite your protests that it was too much too soon. His fingers wiggled into you soon enough, vigorously pumping inside of you, tapping the spongy part inside of you that made you squirm. Hongjoong ripped your first orgasm from your body with his rough treatment of your body and you laid there panting and dizzy. 

If you had enough energy, you might have eyed his straining cock against his tight jeans but you were too busy trying to catch your breath to even contemplate what was going to take place next. Hongjoong pushed and prodded your body until you were sideways and tested out your flexibility. He pushed your right leg to be adjacent to your body, foot higher than your head, and he pushed into your hole. You groaned at the stretch. Even with the orgasm and Hongjoong scissoring you, you still weren’t prepared for how fucking fat his cock was. You whimpered and Hongjoong chuckled. “What’s wrong, darling? My cock too big for you?”

You shook your head, despite the tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. “No. I can take it,” You denied.

Hongjoong didn’t even bother to bottom out inside of you, he simply began to fuck your wet pussy. He watched as your lower lips hugged him as he pulled out, genuinely surprised at how well you were taking him. A loud, low moan pulled from your lips when his cockhead passed over that spot inside of you and he grinned. 

“Finally understanding that a good, rough fuck is something you need, huh darling?” He moved his hips against your body, leg over his shoulder now, searching out for his release. He wasn’t one to come easily but he did fuck you through a second orgasm, in which your entire body tensed and a silent scream kept your mouth open. 

Hongjoong attempted another position, hoping perhaps he might fill you with some of his cum and see how much your tiny body could take of his type of sex. You were on your knees next, his hand wrapped around your throat, loosely at first. Once Hongjoong found a pace that had you bouncing on his dick and kept his dick firmly inside of you, his other fingers filled your mouth, countless, breathless cries muffled now because of his digits. He constricted your throat a few times, enjoying the way your cunt squeezed him when he let go and your pleasure was heightened. 

The third orgasm took longer for you to reach, but Hongjoong wasn’t in a hurry. He was genuinely enjoying how fucked out you were looking. Clearly no one had ever fucked you like he had and he was starting to think that you were missing out. 

“Gonna shake through another orgasm for me, darling?” Hongjoong said in a mocking sing-song voice, “I haven’t even cum once. You really are that fucking desperate for some dick, huh? You didn’t have to pretend you couldn't have paid rent. I could have fucked you good a long time ago.”

You shook your head, hands clawing at his forearms, he didn’t even care if you drew blood, he just wanted to fuck you through another mindblowing orgasm. “Hong--joong--hong--joong,” You said through each gasp he permitted through your throat. 

“You gonna beg? Beg to cum on my cock again? My cock really must be that good if you’re cumming a third time, hmmm?” Hongjoong continued to mock you, stroking his ego beyond reproach. 

“Puh-lee-ssss-uhhhh,” You said in a long drawn out breath.

Hongjoong let go of your throat in favor of grasping both of your hips with his hands. Your upper body collapsed against the bed. The only part of you upright, because of Hongjoong’s insistence, was your lower half. You practically screamed through your third orgasm, it hitting you so hard that you saw stars and didn’t know you were a corporeal being until Hongjoong slapped your ass and brought you back to reality.

“You’re not going to pass out, are you? I still need to stuff you with my cum, darling, come on now,” Hongjoong teased.

You almost spoke, but had to cough, because your poor throat was abused and it wasn’t even because Hongjoong had been squeezing it. “I don’t think--”

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow at you. “Tapping out so quickly already? Twenty four hours, remember?”

Your pride wouldn’t let you tell him to stop. You had also never been fucked so well and thouroughly in your entire life, so you weren’t about to tell him to stop anyways. “I can do it,” You said weakly. 

Hongjoong laid down on his back, black t-shirt straining across his tits and patted his hip bone. You moved to straddle him, not quite sure how this position would continue to help him pound into you. But you did appreciate how angry and red and hard and leaking his cock looked. He needed to cum as badly as all three of your orgasms had fucked you up.

Hongjoong brought your entire body down to his, mouth latching onto your nipple to suck and nip at the sensitive flesh as you sunk down on him again. His pace was still relentless but you had come to crave it now. Your moans are punched out with each thrust into you. The unabated slap of skin against skin laces through Hongjoong’s noises of satisfaction as he fucked you and sucked at your breast. He is getting a feast with you and he’s finding that perhaps he’s become addicted to giving you exactly what you need. 

Finally, he can feel his orgasm approaching and he groaned loudly, but halted his rough fucking. You look like a little lost deer, eyes big and wet, searching out a reason to why he’s taken away your pleasure. Hongjoong almost reverently laid you down on your back, on his knees now, fisting his cock above your head. “Open your mouth and push out your tongue, darling,” Hongjoong instructed in a quiet voice, finally removing his t-shirt and his plethora of tattoos.

You wished suddenly that he was coming through with his threat to fuck you full of his cum, because watching him above you, all those tattoos painting his glorious skin, you knew that this image would be burned into the back of your retinas. You do what he bids, however, opening your mouth and obscenely sticking out your tongue. He comes with a messy rope of cum all over your face and chest, as if he was holding back his cum just to cover you with it. 

Hongjoong’s moan is deep and melodic, with a hint of a whine at the end as he coaxed himself through his first orgasm of the evening. Your old self would have been relieved that finally this insatiable maniac would no longer be pounding into your pussy; that perhaps you might get some sleep this evening. But this new side of your brain, the one that wanted to be fucked within an inch of her life, well that slut wanted him to recover quickly and put you through more rounds.

And when Hongjoong opened his eyes to see you covered in his cum, your eyes shining with anticipation, he knew he had changed you. You were going to be his good little slut now and he was going to have a sweet, tight cock sleeve to fuck for the next… twenty four hours.

[itsthestutterforme]

Convince Me Otherwise (Jack Reacher x reader)

Summary: You are the youngest cadet in the Special Investigators. So no one really took you seriously. No one except Reacher and Neagley.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes as my own, dark themes (mentions of murder, death by suffocation)

Prompt credit @creation tivepromptsforwriting : “I’m not the right person for you.”“You’re doing a great job at convincing me of that.”

Requested by: @screechingdreamercollectorsblog SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG

**

“Wow, you’re really reaching for that promotion, aren’t you, kid?” O’Donnel taunts, purposely closing your laptop so you couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“No, I’m not.” You grumble, attempting to open the laptop but O’Donnel holds it closed.

“You never go out with us. You’re missing out on quality bonding time, you know.” He continues.

“Yeah, you’re missing David getting his ass bear in pool.” Neagley prods, lifting David’s hand from your laptop.

“And get your grubby hands off her laptop. Rude.”

“Here we go. Let the nerds unite.” David starts.

“These nerds can run circles around you, pretty boy.” Neagley taunts, sticking her leg out to trip him when he walked by.

“Awe, you think I’m pretty?”

You and Neagley made eye contact before rolling your eyes.

“That’s enough, O’Donnel. Let her work,” Reacher mediates when he walks into the room.

You smiled when Neagley threw you a wink before walking back to her desk. It was her subtle way of saying ‘awe, he’s defending you’.

She knows about your crush on Reacher for as long as the unit came together. You knew it was never going to happened en because of your age difference.

But there’s nothing wrong with a crush (tat would absolutely lead nowhere).

You had just turned 20 a couple months ago, and this year, you graduated from MIT at the top three in your class.

A part of you was pissed that you just barely missed being nominated as valedictorian for your class.

But that was just your perfectionism getting the best of you. You’re sure that your dad would have been proud that you are doing so well in your studies and graduated a whole year and a half early.

When your dad was enlisted, he would tell you about all the tips he’s made and beautiful sights he’s seen.

And before he died, he didn’t mention anything about the place he was stationed. He didn’t write a single letter talking about the climate, the trees, not even the animals.

Nothing.

And when you asked for pictures, he told you no and to drop it. That in itself peaked your interest but out of respect for him, you didn’t pry anymore.

The following week he was injured in combat and spent the night in the infirmary. You said you were going to see him.

You had the clearance for it anyway, but he begged you not to go. After a few minutes of arguing, he finally told you.

He was sent there to investigate a string of murdered. He found what he was looking for. The culprit.

And he was 99 percent sure that he wouldn’t make it through the night. They were watching him, waiting the catch him alone.

They orchestrated him getting hurt in the field just to get him alone in the infirmary.

You didn’t listen to him; you took the next flight to Iraq and he was gone before you could get to him. They gave you his uniform and folded flag on top of it.

You demanded a copy of his autopsy since they wouldn’t let you see his body. And they refused. You didn’t have any connections there so you had no choice but to accept what they said. For now.

Something wasn’t right with your father’s death. And you were going to figure out what happened. But as much as it hurt, you had to wait a while before you could start investigating.

Chances were you were being watched and you wouldn’t be much help finding your father’s murderer if you were dead.

When Reacher hand picked you to join his team, you told him about it. He was on board with you investigating, under one condition: get out if they ever pay you a visit. He didn’t want to see you dead.

He’s been to enough funerals for several life times. He sat on your desk and you gave him your undivided attention.

“Any luck?” He asks, his hazel green eyes trained on you as he waited for your response. Your cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze.

“No, sir. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you leaned back in your chair and linked your arms above your head. Just looking at your computer made your eye twitch.

“What have I told you about calling me sir?”

“I’m sorry, it’s out of habit.”

He remains silent for a moment, taking in your facial expression.

“I’m tapping you out for the day,”

“Reacher, no. I got this. Let me-“

“Tomorrow is another day, Y/N.”

You released a long breath when he stands from your desk, but he doesn’t quite leave your area yet.

“If I see you lift a finger to open the computer, I will take it for the night.” He states.

He made it all of one step before turning around and taking your computer into his hands.

“Hey!”

“It’s was too tempting for you not to open it anyway. Go home, Y/N.” He calls over his shoulder and he leaves you alone in the empty room.

Everyone left at least an hour ago, so it was just you. And without your computer, you were practically useless.

You stood from your chair with an emphasized groan and listened to what Reacher told you.

**

Dixon’s chuckles echoes throughout the office as she flirted with Reacher. Your heart clenches in your chest because you knew that Reacher always flirted back.

You and Neagley met eyes over your computer screens and rolled your eyes at the same time. You both had other things to be worrying about. Like our actual jobs and what exactly was Dixon doing?

Playing Regina George with Reacher. That’s what she was doing.

You clicked on the next file in the your folder that Reacher gained access for you. All he had to do was pay the man a visit.

He was giving you a hard time; withholding the files that your father gave him and told him to guard with his life.

Your father had told him to keep it away from seeing daylight ever again, but most importantly, to keep it away from you. He didn’t bank on you having a Jack Reacher as a part of your chain of command.

The file loaded and launched the media player on your computer. It was CCTV for the hallway camera perpendicular to the infirmary.

There was a man dressed in Class D uniform that walked over to your father’s bed rest, taking a pillow from a bed that he passed along the way.

Your eyes widened as you quickly realized that was about to happen.

Your father’s legs were kicking as the man covered his face with the pillow, aggressive suffocating him.

You clicked out of the file and slammed your computer closed, standing from your desk.

Reacher looked away from Dixon to you, much against Dixon’s choice. You walked over to Reacher’s desk and he stood when you approached, immediately noticing the difference in your energy.

“I need to talk to you,”

“He’s a little busy right now,” Dixon starts.

“I’ll come find you, Dixon.” Reacher interrupts, letting you lead the way to the conference room:

“I’m not sure it’s wise to speak freely here,” you said, your voice shook with every word. Hearing you like that made Reacher suddenly feel the impulse to protect you.

“Did someone visit you?” He asked and you shook your head no.

��Did you crack it?”

You hesitated a moment before nodding.

“You want me to take care of them?”

“No, no. I can handle it.” You said desperately, wiping your tears before they could touch your cheek.

Much to both of your surprise, he wiped a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. An act so simple that told you one thing: I’ll protect you.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he pleads.

“I was going to tell you the same thing,” you said, sighing when he held the side of your face.

“This shouldn’t be happening. I’m not the right person for you,” Reacher says, not moving a muscle.

“You’re doing a great job at convincing me of that.”

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Yuji's picked up skating and Choso wants to as well - problem is, he's got two left feet. And that's where you, Yuki's extremely good-looking friend, come in. A/N: SINCERELY SORRY IF YOU GUYS CAN'T SKATE ice skating is a pastime of mine and grrrr Choso skating was doing things to me. Requested by the lovely @ash4ree, I hope you like it! WARNINGS: GN reader, modern AU where Choso and Yuki run a tattoo parlour and no swears this time I swear (whoops, one right there)

“…Kamo, I think you better let me take over the cashier. You’re really spacing out hard.”

“Huh - what - oh, sorry, Yuki.” The man shook himself out of his daze, running a tense hand through the untidy strands falling out of his two spiky buns. He takes the proffered thermos and downs a gulp of coffee, grimacing and opening his mouth to fan his tongue. “Crap, I forgot it was hot.”

“Case in point,” the blonde announces, gently elbowing him away from the counter. “Go get your lunch break, dummy. You’re not helping sales if you just stand there staring out the store like a creep. Did something happen?”

Choso reluctantly peeled himself away and began looking for his packed lunch. “Not really.”

“Not sleep well last night?”

“No, no, I slept fine.”

“Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with latest customer’s tattoos, so it can’t possibly be work related…” Yuki tapped her chin. “Did you poke yourself with the a needle by mistake again?’

“It was one time.”

“You’ve got that constipated look,” Yuki hummed and wished she had a camera to capture Choso’s protesting, open-mouthed expression. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it! Yuji?”

“Well…” Choso’s face softened, as it usually did whenever someone mentioned his younger brother. It was usually followed by a long winded ramble about whatever Yuji had been doing yesterday, accompanied by aggressively showing photos and rhetorical questions. Yuki was sure this time he had something else to say so she stuck around, but if he was going to start she was going to exclaim that she had to go somewhere important or distract him with the ever trusty “have you put up the new tat designs yet?”.

“You remember his friend, Megumi?”

“Gojo’s kid? Yeah, I remember him; porcupine hair, grumpy face, about yea high?”

“That’s the one. Anyways, he and his sister - Tsumiki, I think - took up ice skating recently.”

“Rich people thing, but what does this have to do with Yuji?”

“Now Yuji wants to learn to skate as well.” Choso awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

Yuki raised her eyebrows. “If it’s about money I keep telling you you can take all the tips-”

“No, it’ll be unfair if we don’t split!” Noble as always was Choso. Sigh. “Money’s not the problem. Gojo’s happy to sponsor and all I have to do is send him off to the rink anyway…”

“So what IS the problem?” Yuki prodded.

“…I tried to go with him yesterday.” Choso groaned and put his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to skate. At all.”

“You can learn, it can’t be that bad.”

“It was. I fell down about thirty times, Yuji counted. I can’t believe even Megumi is doing better than me.” Choso’s face turned wistful. “Yuji said it’s okay if I didn’t go with him next time, but I do, you know?”

Yuki, unfortunately, did know. Choso was THAT dream brother, the one who enthusiastically got into everything you did. The one who never, ever missed a single important competition, performance or playdate in your life. The one who did his absolute best to never embarrass you (obviously he did sometimes, but only because he was so proud of Yuji). The one who if you said you wanted the moon to be hung in your bedroom, he’ll hang the moon in your bedroom.

No surprise he would want to try and bond with Yuji with his latest hyper-fixation.

No surprise either he’d worry that he’d be making Yuji embarrassed that his big brother was such a klutz in the ice rink.

“It’ll be cool to skate together,” Choso finished hopefully.

Briefly Yuki flashed back to the time Yuji wanted tattoos like his elder brother and she had to talk him out of actually considering giving Yuji real, permanent tats, compromising with those tacky but washable ones.

“But even the staff there couldn’t help me.”

Now, the imaginary commentator would bellow, may we be proud to present, Yuki Tsukumo here to save the day!

Yuki smirked and slung a hand over his shoulders, a grin too wide to not be sneaky. “Don’t worry, Kamo! Big Sis Yuki’s got your back - I know someone who’ll be more than happy to help you if I pull in a couple of favors!”

“Really?” Predictably Choso brightened considerably. “Woah, thanks-”

“But first.” Yuki pushed him away to loom over him at arms length, eyes narrowed, assessing. “You haven’t answered me. What’s your type?”

***

“Hi Yuji.”

“Megumi! Guess what! Choso’s going to be skating today!” Yuji nimbly jumped inside the car, practically vibrating with excitement as he plopped down next to Megumi.

“With us?” The dark-haired boy’s usual frown deepened slightly. “Doesn’t he keep falling though?”

Yuji smiles wide enough for everyone to see his missing tooth. “I know! It’s so funny! But-” he motioned for Megumi to come closer, cupping his hand to his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Someone else’s coming to give him lessons. Yuki-san told me so!”

“Who? Choso only has two friends and none of them know how to skate.” If Mahito, the creepy blue-haired man that the older brother sometimes hung out with did know how to ice skate…well, neither of them knew, mostly due to the fact he was too creepy to talk to despite his outwardly friendly appearance.

“You only have one friend as well, Megumi, and that’s me,” Yuji said bluntly, blissfully oblivious to Megumi’s disgruntled attitude at that statement. “I don’t know who it is but he’ll be coming soon with them to skate! That’ll be so cool if Choso made a new friend!”

Megumi flashed back to the time Yuji attempted to have the grocery store cashier “befriend” Choso, namely by having the both of them go find him when he disappeared somewhere in the freezer aisle. It did not end well but apparently his myopic friend didn’t think so. “Whatever you’d like to think.”

“Aw, Megumi, play nice! I’m sure it’ll be sooo cool if Choso made a new friend!” Up front in the passenger seat Gojo cackled, long legs awkwardly propped up on the dash. “Heavens knows he needs some. He can’t keep babysitting you, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko and Yuji and call you guys his friends.”

“Why not? I’m not his friend?” Yuji looks horrified.

“Technically you’re his brother - ow!”

Geto, the exhausted-running-on-only-caffeine driver, retracts the hand he used to rap Gojo’s head with. “Don’t act so energetic when you did nothing to help me send off all the kids.”

“Hey! I helped Tsumiki get her bag and made the twins put on jackets and literally everything else you told me to do!”

“You forgot to pack my gloves,” Megumi said flatly.

“I didn’t see you driving Tsumiki to her book club or volunteering to help at Nanako’s photography club event or arranging time for Mimiko’s ballet recital or helping get their snacks ready or go wash the dishes in the sink from breakfast, which not only did I tell you to do but it’s your turn.”

“Suguru, you really wound me.” Gojo pretended to choke on tears.

Yuji burst out laughing. “Woah, Gojo-san is really useless!”

“Is that any way to treat the man who assisted in opening your brother’s tattoo parlor, young man?”

“Geto made you,” Megumi said again.

“I’m not listening to a snot-nosed brat who can’t even tie the laces to his skates,” Gojo declared.

Geto steered the car into the drop-off point, clearing his throat to be heard as he unlocked the doors. “He’s your kid, Satoru. Anyways, kiddos, I’ll be dropping you both here. Be good, don’t do anything Gojo would and Megumi better be there when I come to pick him both up. If Choso’s taking you both out to eat though, let me know or tell him to give me a call.”

“Noted with thanks.” Megumi exited the car swiftly, but not before gesturing rudely at his guardian.

“Now where did he learn that, I wonder?” Geto muttered, side eyeing the passenger princess. Gojo ignored him.

“Bye Geto-san! Bye Gojo-san! See you guys later!” Yuji’s hand waves wildly as he hops off.

Gojo rolls down the window to catcall one more time, pushing down his sunglasses. “Hey, kid, hope you’re ready to get a new sibling~”

“What?”

“Sibling-in-law,” Geto corrected, and they drove off.

***

Yuki had told him some basic facts about you. Your name, your age, your job, for instance.

She completely neglected to mention how amazing you looked.

Choso was glad he had decided to throw in a little more effort into his wardrobe today, but he was still anxiously tugging at the collar of his black hoodie. Thankfully his hair was down as well today to hide his ears, which he had no doubt where even more pink than Yuji’s hair.

Because man oh man were you drop-dead gorgeous.

What you were wearing only enhanced what Choso was convinced was godly beauty. And damn, the way you walked with utter confidence as you approached him outside the rink, your smile brighter than the midday sun and and and - crap he can’t remember anything he could call bright now that he’s seen your smile. You’re going to put him in cardiac arrest or at the very least short circuit his brain when you walk right up and start talking in that sweet, smooth voice of yours.

What was his favorite type of music? He’d absolutely say your voice now.

“Hi! You’re Choso right?” You cover your mouth as you shyly laugh. Why’d you do that? Choso wants to see it. “Yuki told me to look for a tall guy with longish hair and a tattooed face who stands there like he got off at the wrong train station.”

Play it cool, play it cool. And because the people he mainly hangs out with are kids he says, “Yeah I’m Choso. I like your shoes.”

“Really?” You glance down and laugh again. “Oh, um, thanks, I guess.”

He kicks himself internally.

“So, Yuki said you wanted to learn how to skate to impress your brother?”

“Uh, yeah.” Choso nods. At least that didn’t sound too weird. “He picked up skating recently and I just think it’ll be nice if we could do it together, because all I can do right now is, you know, sit at the sidelines since…I’m really bad at skating.”

“It’s fine!” You said enthusiastically. “It takes a couple tries to get the hang of it, but I’m pretty hopeful I’ll get you skating by yourself in one lesson - um, not to sound arrogant. It’s pretty sweet you want to learn skating just for your brother, heh; you must really look up to him.”

“I do.” Yuji made friends so effortlessly and he was amazing at any sport he tried his hand at. Yuki could laugh at him all she liked but his opinion was his opinion. Choso shuffled his feet. “I’ll be really grateful if you can. I’ll even pay-”

“No, no, this is completely free, Choso! Don’t worry, it’s all on a favor to Yuki anyway, so if anybody pays, it’s her,” You joke, waving a hand, gratified to see him crack a nervous grin. “So…” You plodded over to the rink, so steady atop the blades of the skates. Choso takes a little while longer, wobbling uncertainly, but he thanks his lucky stars he managed to cross over without tripping like last time.

“Which one’s your brother?”

Choso proudly pointed at the kid with the fluffiest pink hair you’ve ever seen chasing his spiky-haired, brooding counterpart around the ice with the skill of an Olympics professional. “That one.”

“Oh my god.”

Choso panics when your hand slaps over your mouth and your eyes screw up closed. You sounded like you were holding back some really odd noises as well. Did he do something wrong? Oh no. “Are you okay? Are you cold or-”

“He’s a little silly.” Yuki leans across the table, with a sly look. “I’m sure he’s got a brother complex, actually. Don’t mind him if he gets really excited if you mention Yuji.”

“No, no, Yuki didn’t tell me you were this cute!”

“I-” Choso feels his face heat up like an oven and his mouth dries. “Um.”

You grab his hand and yank him into the rink. “Come on, we’ll get you skating in no time!”

***

Truly you meant what you said. Yuki didn’t tell you he was THIS cute and you were going to put her out of whack for it.

You had originally regretted bemoaning your fate of being single for so long already when you had met up with the blonde a week ago, because Yuki being Yuki she was going to grill you for a very detailed description of your type just so she could set you up with someone on a blind date. What a wicked friend - somehow she managed to set you up on one anyway, but you were going to let it slide on the fact that 1. he was really, really cute (not just in looks; so rare are grown men who want to do these things just for their little brother!) and 2. Yuki was giving you a chance to show off your stomping ground and potentially impress HIM, something you weren’t going to throw away to get back at her.

Stay calm, stay calm, you chanted to yourself as you led him out to the rink. Oh god he was so cute and anxious gingerly moving like a newborn giraffe it made you want to- Focus. Seriously.

“Try and skate, I want to see how well you can do,” you said in what you hope was a normal, level tone of voice and not a representation of how you feel when he grabbed your arm to steady himself.

“Um…I’m scared I’ll trip and take you down with me,” Choso confessed, tightening his grip just slightly (it sent you reeling). “I accidentally tripped up Yuji’s friend’s dad once.”

“It’s fine! It’ll take more than some ice to hurt me,” You assure him cheekily. “Go on, try. I’ll do my best to catch you if I fall!”

“Alright, if you say so…”

You glided closer to where he sat on his bum. “I mean, at least you managed a couple meters.”

“I did a split,” Choso groans.

“You’re quite the gymnast,” you agree and offer your hand to help him out. He catches your eye and it’s all over.

“OH MY GOD! I’M - S-SORRY, IT - IT WAS JUST - JUST SO - JUST SO FUNNY - I CAN’T - I SHOULDN’T - I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING BUT - OH MY GOD - YOUR FACE - “

“Stop! It’s not that funny!” Choso buries his face into his hands, pulling up the hood of his jacket. But eventually he succumbs to the humor of the situation as well.

The two of you garnered quite a number of stares as you both doubled over and laughed until you swore you needed stitches for your sides now. You both glance up, just for a moment and maybe sparks flew if Choso hadn’t lost his balance and would’ve face-planted into the ice if you hadn’t grabbed him in time.

Now you both were in a…questionable position, to say the least. He was half leaning on you, head smooshed against your side as you tried to maneuver him back to standing with suddenly stiff hands, like two waltz partners when one was dipping the other. Your heart was pounding and you wondered if he could hear it. His face was burning red; he prayed you couldn’t see it. Two pairs of eyes locked.

“Um. So.” You broke the silence first.

Choso hurriedly pushed himself away, waving his hands frantically. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was a total accident!”

Then the laughter explodes out again.

The commotion seemed to have gotten the attention of Choso’s brother and his friend as well. When you finally straightened, wiping at your streaming eyes, you came face-to-face with two gleaming brown ones as the boy grabs your hand in a tight handshake. “Hi! I’m Yuji! You must be Choso’s new friend and the one teaching him to skate?”

If Yuji wasn’t on ice you’d bet he’d be jumping up and down from glee. “I can’t wait to skate with him! He’s so bad at it he can barely take a step without slipping!”

“Yuji!” Choso can’t believe it. His beloved brother. Betraying him. Exposing him.

“Yeah, last time he tripped up Gojo,” Megumi adds. Choso could cry. Instead he puts a hand on their shoulders (he can’t bend down without falling/being unable to get up again if he’s not holding something) and leans close.

“Taiyaki if you guys don’t mention this, please.”

Yuji blinks and nods seriously, before turning back to a bewildered but entertained you. “My bad! Choso’s really good at skating! He’s never fallen down before!”

Not like that, Yuji. Choso wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Since when were little kids this silly?

“Let’s go back to skating, Yuji. “ At least one of them feels bad for him. Megumi skates off, beckoning for his friend to follow. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to skate themselves.”

“Megumi!” Choso gasps. He took it back. All kids were merciless.

You seem more amused though, giggling. “Come on, they’re right. I said I’ll get you skating by today and skating you will be by today!”

“Alright!”

He couldn’t help but beam back. You had that effect. Addicting and contagious. Anything but detrimental though.

“Okay, let’s try that again, but this time I’ll be right behind you, so grab me if need be.”

Choso nodded. “Got it.”

You watched carefully as the man slowly struggles to skate a little distance. He nearly falls, but steadies himself quickly. After a while it’s easy to spot the problem, so you reluctantly pull yourself away from admiring his form, however shaky.

“Wait, wait, hold up here.” You skated in front of him a bit and pointed down. “Skating isn’t walking. Try imagining a scooter or a skateboard, where one foot remains unmoving while the other propels you forward. It’s not really an accurate way to skate but it worked for me on starting out.”

Choso tried not to get distracted by the smell of you and your clothes, concentrating on his feet. Think about other things, not the extremely good-looking person in front of you. Other things - don’t fall - other things…

He flashed back to the time he tried to teach Yuji to use a skateboard and fell into a ditch. Um, probably explained why he was so bad at skating.

“Hey, I’m doing it!” Choso excitedly let go of your arm and pushed himself forward a little more. “I’m doing it! I’m skating - oh woah - never mind - ouch.”

“Well, almost!” You cheered, clapping your hands and mimicking confetti falling as you skated over to help him up. “You did it! Now we just gonna work on your falling problem - I think it’s because you’re trying to go faster than you can right now.”

“It’s progress,” Choso says hopefully. He tries to get up.

“No, don’t get up like that, you’re gonna fall right down again. Put up one foot like you’re kneeling and use it to push yourself up.”

And so it went on, you directing instructions, tips and corrections to Choso while he did his best to follow them, occasionally sending your heart fluttering and your stomach twisting every time he grabbed your hand to steady himself. It was like your hands were molded to fit each other perfectly, you thought giddily, then shut off that train of thought. No! You both had just met! You were just here on a favor to Yuki! Nothing more!

“Lean forward a little more - wait, no, not that much, don’t fall for me again, haha.”

“Just relax your hands, don’t keep flailing them.”

“Come on! Go, go, go, you got this! No! Don’t look back! Pretend I’m in front of you!”

But still, you couldn’t help but flush pink at the jubilant grin decorating his face as he zipped back to you, hyped over his newfound achievement.

“I did it! I skated a whole round!”

“I know you did, congratu- oof!”

He tackled you in a tight hug, crushing your arms and your head underneath his chin but you didn’t mind. Choso was warm, awfully so after you both had spent so much time in the freezing rink, but maybe that was just his personality. You melted, and it was like gluing a cracked vase back together again - a perfect fit.

Then Choso froze and let go, pushing back. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, no worries, don’t sweat it!” You tried for a smile, even though the sudden loss of his hold left something aching in you.

He smiled again and you decided to be bold.

You spread your arms. “Can I get another one, maybe? Just to celebrate.”

***

“So, it’s just you and Yuji right now?” You took a lick of your ice cream, eyes never leaving Choso’s face. He was enjoying his own cone, although his gaze was trained on the two kids running up in front. “Man, that must’ve been rough.”

“Well, not too bad.” Choso wiped a smudge of chocolate off the corner of his lip. He didn’t quite get it, so he tried to use his tongue to lick it off. You snorted at his expression. “We’ve got an uncle - my dad’s brother - Sukuna, he’s not around much but he sends us money so financially, we’re okay. He’s a pretty busy, bigshot businessman anyway.”

“THE Ryomen Sukuna?” Your mouth fell open as you pictured the scowling, towering, tattooed man you had seen in newspapers. “Oh, wow, you just keep getting even more interesting, Choso.”

He shrugged, awkwardly smiling at the compliment. “Heh, not really. I didn’t even know we were related until like after our grandfather died. Then he showed up. He’s like the family black sheep or something, but Sukuna’s pretty okay.”

After Yuji and Megumi had finally gotten bored of the rink they had ran up to the two of you and immediately pestered Choso (mostly Yuji, Megumi just sort of tagged along) to get them food because they were going to die from hunger apparently. Choso had turned to you, with that eager puppy dog look and asked if you wanted to stay, ice cream would be his treat? Who were you to turn him down?

So that’s how you all ended up in front of the toy store now, as Yuji dragged Megumi inside while you and Choso just sort of lingered around the front, poking through the products, getting to know each other better and wistfully remarking on the joys of lost childhood.

(He was such a gentleman - offering to throw the cup your ice cream was in for you, opening the door and even - gasp - helping you remove the straps from your skates.)

“Pretty okay? He looks terrifying from his pictures,” you laugh. “I guess there’s a reason they call his business Malevolent Shrine though.”

“Don’t even get me started on-”

“Choso! Choso! Check these out!”

The two younger boys burst through the racks, Yuji grinning and Megumi not quite scowling as they held up two matching wolf plushies, one white and the other black. The Divine Dogs line of toys, if you remembered correctly. They were pretty cute, you had to admit.

“Oh hey, you two are back.” Choso took a quick look at the plushies and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want them or something?”

“Nope! I think you should get them!”

You nearly spat.

“…what? And…why?”

“So you can match with my new sibling?”

“Sibling?!” Poor Choso looks confused.

“Sibling-in-law,” Megumi corrects blankly, and points at you.

At once the two of you suddenly found the floor really interesting. My, my, who knew the cracks in the tiles would make such beautiful patterns. Hmm, a speck on your shoe as well.

“But I think that's for after marriage,” Megumi continues like absolutely nothing happened.

Yuji frowns, then lights up again before shoving the plushies towards Choso. “Then you gotta marry them quick, Choso, before anyone else does! Maybe you could get matching tattoos or something, after the plushies! You guys were so cute skating around together, like a real coo-ple!”

“Couple,” Megumi corrected.

“We’re not-!”

“Um, what-?”

“Hey, can I be best man at the wedding?” Yuji waved the plushy at your face.

Choso wanted the floor to swallow him up. You decide to save him and yourself.

“…it’s too early for marriage,” You begin before Choso’s panic instincts kick in.

“I’m so sorry! I apologize on their behalf, it must make you uncomfortable! Yuji, Megumi, don’t ever say that, we just met and we’re just hanging out like friends-”

“Hey, let me finish!” You lightly dig your elbow into his side, the corner of your lip tugging up. “It’s too early for marriage but I wouldn’t say no to a date, if you asked.”

Choso bough the plushies after he finished fainting.

[brossession-collection]

Dad's Pits (Male Possession)

"Charlie! Get your fucking ass down here!"

Charlie's eyes shot open as he heard the muffled yells of his dad's piercing through his bedroom door. He flinched, pulling his hands out of his musky briefs and hitting his head on the bedframe.

"Fuck that hurt."

Charlie is a 23 year old washed out jock who just barely graduated from college. Exhausted from the years of studying and the lack of any job leads, he came back home tired and defeated. It didn't help that he was a kinky fucker, masturbating his days away to the smell of his ripe sweaty pits.

In fact, Charlie's main reason for playing club lacrosse in college was so that he could rummage through the open lockers and dirty laundry hampers, claiming any soiled jerseys to take a dirty sniff. He got caught once, with the strength coach's yellowed jockstrap over his face.

Dude got put on probation and his single dad found out immediately.

Charlie's dad, Jeff, although stern and strict, is a pretty loving dad through and through. He's a construction manager at one of the biggest firms in the city, leading huge projects and coming home day after day fatigued, pissy, and, most importantly, musky.

And today wasn't any different.

"You hear me!? You better not be whacking your d*ck!"

Charlie groaned as he got up, not bothering to slip anything on. He opened the door and yelled back, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm not dad! What do you need!?"

"How about you get your ass down here like I said and get some dinner on the table. Least you can do to help out around here"

Charlie tucked his boner into his briefs, put on some shorts and a loose tank top jersey, and trotted down the stairs regrettably. He made eye contact with Jeff, who was taking off his plaid button down, leaving behind a tight white tank top and belted wrangler jeans.

"There you are" Jeff said more softly than just a second ago. "Listen Charlie I don't wanna be yelling at ya. You're a grown ass adult and you're still living here. Could be proactive and help out around here more."

Charlie rubbed his eyes, yawned, then nodded, his bushy pits wafting out a dry musk that made his dad wince.

"Jesus christ boy. Go take a fucking shower. Don't know how you can handle yourself smelling like that. I can barely deal with my own stink right after work."

Charlie muttered a "well I can" under his breath as he rummaged through the fridge. He glanced at his dad who seemed to not notice.

"Speaking of, I'm gonna take a shower. Gotta get this fucking stench off me. Have dinner on the table when I get back alright?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Will do daddio."

Charlie looked back as his dad jogged up the stairs, his tatted built arms swinging side to side with every step. While Charlie had more of an athletic lanky build, Jeff was a bit more bulky, carrying a muscular dad bod. They were the same height, and had similar characteristics, but his dad looked more mature with his bushy beard and uncontrollable chest hair. Charlie was jealous of those features. "I could be waaay more musky if I had dad's hairiness" he constantly thought.

Charlie felt an air of dizziness as he dropped some produce on the kitchen counter. He tried to steady himself, but for some reason couldn't keep his heavy eyelids open. "Shit... Must be the blue balls..." he slurred as he drunkenly stumbled to the dinner table. He slumped onto a chair and zonked out.

...

When Charlie came to, he felt strange. More airy, like he was floating. He felt cold, but for some reason couldn't feel his skin when he tried to grab it. He yelled when he looked down.

"The fuck is happening?"

"Why's my skin all green?"

Charlie poked and prodded at his translucent abs, which responded with a gooey jello-ey jiggle. "No fucking way man what the hell is this shit!?" he yelled.

Suddenly musky green gas started to emit from his armpits and ass, as if he was a walking stink cloud. Charlie curiously raised one of his arms up to take a sniff, only to smell one of the most rancid, ripe, and gloriously delicious stenches he's ever inhaled.

"Wheeeeewwww. Fuck... I smell so fucking BAD! I mean... GOOD". Charlie couldn't stop whiffing his own pits, hypnotized by the incredible musk that his ghostly form was now exuding.

Charlie looked around. He could see musky stink lines coming from objects all over the house, as if he had stink-o-vision. He strutted over to his dad's hung-up button down, which was apparently excessively musky.

"Damn... smells so goooood" he moaned as he brought his nose and hand up to the fabric. Suddenly, his fingers, then hand, then forearms got sucked into the fabric. With every finger twitch he tried to do, he watched as the shirt jostled around, as if he had partial control over it.

Charlie was chuckling, experimenting with his new powers for atleast 2 minutes straight before he heard a familiar voice call from up stairs.

"I'll be out in 15!" his dad yelled. Charlie heard the shower turn as his dad stomped around on the floor above, waiting for the water to heat up.

Charlie, looking down at his green ghostly body, grinned and thought of something mischievous to try. He got up and started tip-toeing up the stairs, the green stench still floating off his body.

He opened his dad's bedroom door and saw him turned around, taking off his socks. Jeff only cocked his head back, not yet noticing the new form his son had taken.

"You need something bud?" he said, before turning his head further and seeing the green apparition that his Charlie had become.

"Wh-what the hell? Y-you okay son?" Jeff's mouth was agape, unsure of how to react. He felt his nose crinkle as a more intense version of Charlie's ripe musk wafted into his nostrils unwelcomed.

"Don't know what happened daddio. Dozed off and woke up like this."

"Ch-Charlie! The fuck happened!? Go take a fucking shower son this ain't normal!"

Charlie flinched at that idea. "Why dad? I smell fucking great. And you do too..." He noticed the green stink lines emanating from his dad's pits, feet and below his waistband.

"The fuck are you talking about Charlie?" Jeff said, taking a step back as his jock son inched forward.

"Mind if I try something dad?" In a split second, Charlie pounced at Jeff, completely covering him in his green gas and slimey body.

Jeff struggled to breathe as he felt his nose and mouth getting caked in his son's ripe musk, forcibly pushing itself down his throat and up his nostrils. He lifted his arms up beyond his control as Charlie's gaseous slimey form started to ooze into his armpits.

Charlie could only laugh as he felt his ghostly body enter and take control of his dad through every single entrance he could find. Jeff didn't even notice his son slipping down his pants and pumping into his c*ck and sweaty asshole.

"CH-CHAR-guhhh" Jeff managed to moan out as the ectoplasmic form of his son's head gurgled down into his throat. At this point, Jeff could only see green in his vision.

"Gonna have so much fun stinking up your body dad!" Charlie yelled from inside Jeff's head.

The father and son, now sharing a body, stumbled to the ground, wet and slimey. Jeff let out a moan as he felt the last of the goo sink into his dirty asshole with a "POP". The man slumped over for a second before...

...

Jeff opened his eyes and cracked his neck with a smirk. He lifted up his arm and took a deep whiff of his day-old pit scent, unnatural green gas wafting out and musking the entire room.

"Mmmmmm smells even better with his nose" he cooed. He scratches at his pits then took a curious sniff before letting out an uncharacteristic moan of pleasure. "Fuck yeah that's the stuff."

Jeff got up and stuck a hand into his wranglers, rummaging around his fabric-covered balls and taint before rubbing the same hand all over his beard.

"Shiiit daaaad. You smell better than me!" Charlie chuckled with his dad's voice.

He walked up to the shower in his dad's en suite bathroom, reaching inside and turning off the water.

Once again, Charlie lifted up his dad's beefy arms and spoke:

Fin

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2024.02.14 ~ Valentine’s Day

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Driving Me Nuts by @toomuchplor [M, 6k]

►Another Friday night sleeping on Draco Malfoy's couch, and it's not a big deal that Draco's walking around in his pants. And it doesn't mean anything that Harry keeps noticing Draco's arse.

2. I Can't Wait to Fall in Love with You by thewanderingwriter [G, 5k]

►The war is over and everyone at Hogwarts is ready to celebrate Valentine's Day. Everyone except Harry. He keeps ignoring all the cards following him around, until he receives an anonymous letter from a very mysterious secret admirer. Will Harry be willing to put prejudices aside in the quest to find his true love?

3. I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) by @dodgerkedavra [E, 15k]

►Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter make a pact that if they’re both still single on New Year’s Day in ten years’ time, they’ll get married. It’s a long ten years.

4. Love is Like a Strike of Lightning by skotini [T, 9k]

►Harry became a model for muggle romance books after the war. Draco is the one that finds this secret out. But Draco also has a secret or two of his own …

5. Used to be a Hot Boy (Now I'm Stunnin') by TawnyOwl [M, 6k]  *typo

►“Why the hell would you get a fucking paw print tatted on your shoulder?” [Ron] prods, laughing at the ridiculousness of it, performing his usual detection spells on Draco’s wand. “I didn’t. It’s my fucking soulmate being a fucking dick.” [...]

[mayolive-writes]

Labret | Jungkook

Pairing: Dom!Jungkook x Sub!AFAB Reader

Summary: You surprise Jungkook with a new piercing. Needless to say, he likes it.

Wordcount: 957 Words

Genre: Smut, Established-Relationship, Drabble

Warnings: Unprotected sex (this is unholy behavior), jk is a tease (honestly what a bitch), jk also has all his ungodly piercings and tattoos, reader isn’t allowed to make any noise (rude), vaginal sex, pet names (baby, good girl, precious, bun), some breast play, edging, some fun banter near the end, jk may or may not have a thing for tats and piercings (not that we're surprised)

A/N: This is the Love Plaza Couple <3 This is set two years into their relationship! This is also the last piece I have prepared for this couple but there might be some more in the future, ya never know!

Enjoy!!

The Love Plaza | Moonlight Trampoline Adventure | Labret

Minors DNI

“Mmm, quiet baby.” Jungkook whispered softly against your lips. He had carefully positioned his mouth so that it only touched the corner of your lips, avoiding the new piercing in the center.

When you walked into his dorm that evening, ready to show off your new labret piercing, you hadn’t anticipated ending up like this, pressed firmly into Jungkook’s mattress as his hips moved rhythmically in and out of you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, intense enough to make you need more, but too weak to ease your hunger.

If anyone had told you two years ago that Jungkook would grow into such a bitch during sex, you would’ve actually stopped yourself from confessing to him. Where was the sweet, awkward Koo that was nervous and unsure? When did he turn into a monster with a full sleeve of tattoos and several new facial piercings?

Let’s face it, you didn’t actually hate it. And you'd be more than willing to get more piercings if this was the result.

“Koo—” you almost bite your lip mindlessly to silence yourself, but Jungkook is quick to prod your mouth open with his fingers.

“Baby, no, you’ll hurt yourself,” he feigns concern, “the others are here, so you’ll just have to be a good girl,” There it is. His new favorite phrase. A despicable trick he now had in his top hat of magic. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Quiet.” His tone is gentle, but his thrusts are teasing, leaving you desperate and breathless. You almost can’t hold back a whimper, looking desperately into his eyes as you grab for the pillow beneath you.

“I’m kinda annoyed that it’ll be a while til’ I can kiss you properly, but I like it,” another peck against the corner of your mouth, “I’ll have to pick a new spot for my kisses, won’t I?” His lips move slowly along your jaw, “maybe here…” up, grazing your neck, “or here…” further down to your collarbones, “you’d look cute if I left some marks here, don’t ya’ think?” He glances up at you, but you can’t find the voice to respond when his cock keeps slipping in and out of you tantalizingly.

“Koo—Koo please, I can’t.” You beg, knowing it will get you nowhere.

“What, you want my roommates to hear you? Want them to hear how good I fuck you? How pretty you always sound with me?”

You find the strength to vehemently protest, “N-no, you know I don’t like others hearing.”

“Then just hold on tight baby, no sound. Promise I’ll make my girl feel so good, yeah?”

And Jungkook makes good on his promise. Minutes of you holding onto the pillow for dear life, legs wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s waist pass by quickly. As your orgasm creeps closer, it becomes harder and harder to keep silent. The urge to close your mouth or bite your lip is intense, but you breath heavily, helpless. Meanwhile, Jungkook keeps fucking into you, gradually going harder and harder, knocking the air from your lungs, His hands roam your body, and his lips focus on the corners of your mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on any part that isn’t near the sensitive flesh of your fresh piercing. “Fuck baby, I won’t be able to keep my mouth off you once it’s healed—” he breathes into your mouth, “so precious.”

You’re on the edge now, ready to fall over. Breathing heavily, the ability to keep your voice at bay weakens. A soft whine escapes. You quickly cut it off, but immediately lose control again when Jungkook’s lips attach to your breasts, tongue feeling around your nipple before latching on. A quiet moan that just keeps coming and coming. Soon, all you can do is whimper at every touch, every small movement.

“B-bun—ah—fuck—” you’re barley audible, “I can’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry— “

“Oh, baby, it’s okay.” He reassures you, continuing to fuck into you. You’re about to break. You’re seconds away.

Right.

There.

But he stops.

The bastard stops.

Jungkook smiles devilishly, “We’ll just try again, precious."

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

“Just like that, such a good Good girl.”

You’re on the edge again. Finally. You almost lose control of yourself, but you stubbornly remain silent. Jungkook can tell when you start to pull on him more and more that you’re only moments away from cumming. One last hard thrust breaks you, releasing your high, and with it, strangled and low moans release from your throat.

“K-koo, bun—”

Relief. The feeling of his cum releasing into you causes another sensation that makes your spine shiver.

You ride out your highs together, letting your breathing calm and letting your bodies become grounded again.

“You’re a prick.” You complain.

“What do you mean, I said I liked the piercing! And I let you cum, didn’t I?

“Oh, fuck off!”

“You broke the rules, babe.” Giggling, he shifts positions, pulling you on top of him, “It’s not my fault you can’t keep quiet, precious.” He leans in nuzzling your neck, “How bout’ we try another position?”

Taglist: @blairscott @hoseokteardrop @kookiesnpie

[anemptypuddingcup]

“It’s going to be okay, just relax yourself alright?”

Thick tatted fingers circled within your tight gummy walls as you moan, begging and praising to him. His fingertips prods at your g-spot so delicately yet rough at the same time. He presses sweet and soft kisses against your lips while his fingers were knuckles deep inside of your tight hole. Your hand wraps tightly around his wrist while he began to move his hand, finger fucking your sweet hole.

You let out a breathy moan as his other hand caresses your breast and pinches at your nipple. You throw your head back against his shoulder as Law quickens the pace of his hand, moving his fingers in and out of your pussy. Your walls tightens around his thick fingers as you felt your orgasm slowly rising. “T-Traffy!~” You gasp out as you arch your back. Law moved his other hand to your clit, rubbing in circular motions to help you cum faster. Your hand wraps around his arm as he scissors his fingers inside of you.

Law moves in closer to you and nibbles at your ear before speaking. “You’re cum f’me? Cum for your man~ Squirt all over the sheets f’me.” He whispers as he presses a kiss to your ear. You whimper at his words and buck your hips against his hand as he shoves his fingers hard against your g-spot. White milky nectar coated his fingers as you felt your orgasm approaching. “Fuck! O-Oh god!~” You whined as you were so close to cumming.

“M’cumming! L-LAW M’CUMMING!~” You gasp. You felt Law’s hand slow down at your words followed by a little chuckle from his lips. You whimper and moan loudly as you felt your orgasm rush over you. A whine leaves you as you squirt out onto Law’s hand, his jeans and the clean white sheet below you both. You feel Law remove his fingers from you and palm at your sex to help ride out your orgasm while he presses a kiss onto your head. “You look so pretty cummin’ onto the sheets like that~” He giggles, pressing another kiss against your head. You breathe heavily but let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion from your orgasm.

“Let that stress leave your body baby.”

[mariacallous]

The United States and other major countries are close to finally finding a way to turn frozen Russian state assets into financial assistance for Ukraine, with this week’s G-7 meeting of finance officials in Italy expected to lay the groundwork for a breakthrough deal worth as much as 50 billion euros.

But the U.S. push to get allies on board with large-scale financial assistance to Ukraine is undercut by the Biden administration’s reiterated limits on what Ukraine can actually do with the assistance it receives, with Ukrainian strikes on Russian territory still a no-go for Washington. Those restrictions are becoming increasingly contentious as Russia continues its bloody offensive against Kharkiv using troops and weapons staged with impunity right across the border.

The good news for Ukraine is that after weeks of U.S. prodding, key members of the G-7 seem inclined to sign off on a novel way to aid Ukraine with frozen Russian assets. The idea, which will be discussed at the meeting this week in Italy and likely further developed in meetings over the summer, is to use the approximately 3 billion euros in annual proceeds from Russia’s 300-odd billion euros in frozen state assets to underwrite a loan for Kyiv worth as much as 50 billion euros. Germany, which was reluctant to entertain previous proposals to tap frozen Russian funds, was the latest country to throw its support behind the new initiative.

“I believe it’s vital and urgent that we collectively find a way forward to unlock the value of Russian sovereign assets immobilized in our jurisdictions for the benefit of Ukraine,” said U.S. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen in a speech in Germany on Tuesday. “This will be a key topic of conversation during G-7 meetings this week.”

The new plan, if it comes to fruition, would substitute a scheme that Europe just finalized this month on how to use the proceeds from Russian assets, which involved taxing the roughly 3 billion euros a year that accrue and sending the bulk of that money to Ukraine. Instead, the United States and allies in Europe and Asia would provide Ukraine with a lump sum rather than annual payments. 

That would go some way toward meeting Ukraine’s huge financial burdens in the medium term, and also insulate some future assistance for Ukraine from potential political upheavals in the United States after November’s presidential election; presumptive Republican nominee Donald Trump has a mixed record on Ukraine and has consistently complained that the United States is doing more than Europe to support the country in its fight against Russia.

“The advantage is that you get the money for Ukraine now, and it would be partially Trump-proofed,” said Charles Lichfield, deputy director of the Geoeconomics Center at the Atlantic Council.

It’s no coincidence that Europe is just now coming around to even this watered-down way to tap frozen Russian funds, he added. Europe was reluctant to take further action to support Ukraine while U.S. assistance remained frozen. But Republican lawmakers in the United States finally unlocked billions of dollars in aid for Ukraine after months of delay, removing one possible European objection to taking a step that some countries still see as risking Russian retaliation.

Those European fears help explain why the United States and the United Kingdom have been unable to muster much support for more ambitious plans to seize the entirety of Russia’s frozen assets to aid Ukraine. The United States just passed a fresh law reaffirming its right to seize Russia’s assets, but the bulk of that money is held in Europe, making unilateral U.S. action unlikely and ineffective. Many European countries are worried that any move to seize the entirety of Russia’s frozen assets could spark tit-for-tat retaliation from Moscow, as well as threaten the euro’s attractiveness as an international reserve currency.

But Moscow isn’t waiting for an excuse to snatch Western assets in any event. In recent weeks, Russia has seized hundreds of millions of dollars in assets held by Western banks in Russia such as J.P. Morgan, Deutsche Bank, Commerzbank, and UniCredit. Moscow has also shaken down Western businesses that left the country due to sanctions to the tune of more than $1 billion, and it continues to grab money even from companies such as IKEA that have suspended operations there.

A number of questions about the latest plan to use Russian assets remain, including the size of the loan, the timeframe of future revenues used to pay it back, and whether it would be underwritten by the entire G-7 or by the United States alone.

Perhaps the trickiest part of turning future revenues into current money is the fact that, as things stand now, the European Union needs to renew its sanctions on Russia every six months. That could cast a shadow over just how secure those future revenues meant to back a loan really are, Lichfield said. That uncertainty could increase the risk profile of any loan underwritten by the United States or other major economies.

“To lock in that revenue stream for 20 years, you’d need to change European Union law—you can’t have it subject to renewal every six months,” he said.

But the U.S.-driven progress in unlocking more aid for Ukraine remains undermined by the continued restrictions placed by the United States and some other Western allies on exactly what Ukraine can do with the military assistance it receives. 

Washington has since the start of the conflict warned Ukraine that it will not allow Kyiv to use U.S.-supplied weapons to strike at targets outside Ukraine itself, a prohibition that severely limits the utility of long-range weapons such as the recently supplied ATACMS, an Army missile system. U.S. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin reiterated that prohibition this week, even as Russian forces staged just outside Ukraine’s reach are sowing death and destruction in places such as Kharkiv. Washington has even sought to extend the prohibition to Ukraine’s use of its own weapons, frowning on long-range drone strikes at vital targets inside Russia, though the White House has acknowledged that “Ukraine makes its own decisions about its military operations and how it uses equipment that it manufactures.”

From Washington’s perspective, the cautious approach makes sense when dealing with a nuclear-armed state that has repeatedly threatened to escalate the war if the United States and its allies keep bolstering Ukraine’s ability to defend itself. It’s not a trivial fear: Russia did practice starting a nuclear war just this week, ostensibly in response to increased Western involvement in Ukraine’s defense. But the Biden administration’s goal of keeping Ukraine from losing while keeping the war from widening is running into a logical cul-de-sac.

“They don’t want Ukraine to fall, but they also have the priority of keeping the war contained,” said Edward Hunter Christie, a senior research fellow at the Finnish Institute of International Affairs. “The mind virus that has taken hold is that you can control the war through the tap of military assistance—dial it up, dial it down—but the U.S. administration has put itself on this tightrope where it is afraid of falling on either side.”

The United Kingdom, for its part, has seemingly removed such limits. Foreign Secretary David Cameron said earlier this month that Ukraine can use British-supplied weapons as it sees fit. But U.S. limits remain.

The problem with the U.S. constraints has come into sharp relief with the Russian attack on Kharkiv, a big Ukrainian city right on the Russian border. Due to U.S. restrictions, Ukrainian forces are powerless to interdict Russian forces that stage beyond the border, leading to more destruction and more Ukrainian deaths.

That, in turn, has led a chorus of U.S. lawmakers to call on the Biden administration to relax its restrictions on Ukrainian use of U.S. arms. A bipartisan group of House lawmakers sent Austin a letter this week, echoed by a similar plea from Sen. James Risch, the ranking member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. House Speaker Mike Johnson  Other prominent figures, including Mike McFaul, a former U.S. ambassador to Russia, have publicly questioned the continued U.S. restrictions. Even a lawmaker who held up U.S. aid for Ukraine, House Speaker Mike Johnson, is questioning the Biden administration’s limits on Ukraine’s targeting.

“The debate is live now, because of Kharkiv. Everybody can now see how absurd and damaging to Ukraine these caveats are,” said Christie, who was also formerly a NATO official. “We continue to be in a situation where Ukraine has to fight with one hand tied behind its back.”

[jadedxhearts]

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐀𝐔 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬

Scenario 2: Both virgins, but reader reads "romance" novels...

Originally posted in summer 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

The tension is thick, a sense of hesitancy hanging in the air of Law’s bedroom. You’re both sat on his bed; Law is sitting with his legs crossed, you have your legs tucked at an angle that has your feet resting behind you.

“I trust you,” you decide to speak first, breaking the awkward silence, “you’re a doctor, after all. I… I feel even better, knowing that.”

Law nods, but his eyes won’t meet yours. Though his face is flushed, and he’s messing with the hem of his tee-shirt. Signs he’s nervous, but it’s to be expected.

“I’m just afraid of disappointing you,” Law mumbles, voice low.

You reach a hand out toward him, placing it on the tattooed hand that’s fisted into the bottom of his shirt. “You’ll be fine, Law. It’s not like I have anything to compare it to,” you giggled, trying to help him gain confidence.

After a bit more talking, discussing how things would go down, you finally get to the action. You’ve pulled your tank top off, as well as your shorts. All you wore now was a light yellow lace bra and panties set. Law’s favorite color. When he’d realized you’d worn it for him, his face burned the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen. It was cute, and you’d smiled as you watched his actions, but you were still scared.

Law had removed his tee-shirt long ago, tossing it over in the direction of where his laundry basket was. He was trying to get out of his jeans, but found that he was too nervous to fully take them off. “Is… is it okay if I just… only unzip them?”

“Do what makes you most comfortable, Law.”

He’d nodded, and simply left the front of his jeans undone. Then, you initiated the next thing; foreplay. “So… it’s best if we um, get me… uh,” now your face burned, “…wet, because, otherwise, y’know, it’ll hurt more.”

Law nodded, waiting to see what you were going to say next. “I know you like to be in control, so I’ll let you decide how you want to go about that,” you finished.

But Law didn’t really know what he was supposed to do. He could tell you the names and places of body parts as well as their functions, but Law didn’t know what felt good to women. “I, um, I don’t know what I should do,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you bit your lip. “Um. Okay, you could f-finger me, or um… eat me o-out.” Saying the words aloud was more difficult than you’d anticipated. Hearing or seeing the words was nothing new to you, though.

“Eat… you?” Law raised an eyebrow, “you mean… use my tongue?”

You nodded bashfully, raising the back of your hand to your mouth to bite the skin out of nervousness. “I-I… I think your fingers, would uh, be best. For now,” you stuttered.

Nodding, Law agreed that fingering you would be the best course of action to start with. You laid back against the pillows, beginning to pull the light yellow panties away from your heat.

“H-here,” Law took them from you when they were mid-thigh. Watching your lover/captain pull them off had you throbbing, and you bit down onto your lip harshly to suppress a whine.

He gazed down at your cunt, hesitantly raising a finger toward it, before slowly swiping it down your slit. You shuddered at the contact, “m-more, Law.”

He prodded at your folds next, spreading them apart to reveal all of you to him. “I’ve seen diagrams in textbooks,” Law awkwardly admitted. “I’m aware there’s different ways to stimulate you. The uh… clitoris, basically a clump of nerves. I’d assume that it’s a good place to stimulate?”

You nodded, spreading your legs apart for Law. His index finger tatted with the letter ‘E’ then made contact with your clit, gently brushing his fingertip against the bundle of nerves. You hissed, unable to stop the noises that began to escape your lips. He continued to rub the little pink button, slowly increasing the speed of which he did so. Moans left your lips, and you threw your head back as you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter.

Law watched in awe, captivated in how all of this worked. As a doctor, it was very intriguing. The more he played with your clit, the more it seemed like your hole was clenching onto nothing, clear liquids beginning to drip from you.

“L-Law! Fuck, it’s too much,” you whined.

Law pulled his finger away, instead choosing to prod at your hole now. He worked the same finger inside, before adding a second. It wasn’t much of a stretch, but it was still something you weren’t used to. A long cry rang out as you fluttered around his fingers, almost sucking them in.

Law ran his fingers around the gummy walls, trying to get a good feel at everything. Scissoring his fingers within you, he stared with that same expression he wore when doing a new operation. Most would call it unnerving, but it turned you on even more.

“I think- I’m wet enough,” you huffed, trying to control yourself as to not cum around his fingers so quickly.

Removing his fingers, Law wiped them off on his jeans before shyly undoing his clothing, pulling out his very hard cock, which seemed to twitch in anticipation. He looked desperate.

After spending a good moment looking at his length, visually taking it all in; you spoke once again. “Wh-what position would you wanna do? Missionary or, uh…maybe a m-mating press?”

Law stared at you with widened eyes, his face becoming flushed all over again. “Mating p-press?”

Then your eyes widened and you burned red with embarrassment. “Uh, um… you know, it’s just a position! I-I didn’t mean like br-“

“How do you know these things?” Law questioned you.

You adverted your eyes, internally cursing yourself for getting too bold. “I uh, read some stuff…”

“Where?”

“When we docked last, I grabbed some stupid romance novels, remember? Well, th-they were more than… just romance,” you explained.

Law let out a ‘tch’ noise like he did practically daily, but he was more amused than annoyed. “You’re such a dirty girl, y/n.”

It was meant to sound like a joke, but you whimpered at his words, liking the way he sounded so degrading toward you. “Y-yeah, I guess I am… fuck.”

“We can try a mating press, since it seems to be on your mind,” Law teased, but then he hesitated again. “I… I don’t know what that looks like, though.”

You giggled, his naivety being so endearing to you. “From what I can tell, I bend my knees back and hold my legs open, for y-you…”

“What about me?” Law asked, growing more and more awkward again.

“You just… get in and uh… trap m-me with your legs, I guess. I-it’s meant for you to get in deeper than y’know… normal… positions.”

Explaining this to Law was not something you’d anticipated doing, but, here you were. At the very least, he seemed intrigued. You wondered what about it he was so interested in.

“And I’m assuming… the purpose of going deeper is to… mate more… e-effectively?” Law sounded so shy as he spoke, trying to hide the fact that he was very interested in doing this position. Though the aching in his cock made it clear to him he was very turned on at the idea of doing… that… to you.

You nodded, biting your lip. “B-but now that I say it, I don’t know if I’m um… ready for that… I think we should try that um… another time. J-just focus on getting comfortable, okay?”

With the nod of his head, Law understood. You prepared yourself for him, widening the position of your legs to allow Law more space in between. He kneeled in front of you, his warm skin now meeting the soft, plushy skin of your ass and thighs. Holding his cock in one hand, he didn’t know what to do with the other, until you grabbed it, holding onto him tightly. “I’m sorry if I squeeze too hard,” you mumbled. “I’m just… scared.”

“I’ll take care of you, I promise,” Law whispered, in an attempt to soothe you.

“I trust you, Law.”

Law leaned forward to kiss you. It was sensual and comforting, so perfect for the moment you found each other in. Reaching between your legs, you spread your folds apart as Law aligned his member, gently, slowly pushing in. Inch by inch, his cock spread your walls apart, widening your tight hole. You hissed and cried, tears threatening to slide down your cheeks. As you squeezed Law’s left hand tightly, he held you close in a comforting embrace with his now free hand. Even through all this, your kiss with him never broke.

[notmuchtoconceal]

fellas got this aggro boxin stud here to reach his full gladiatorial potential by lockin him up in his gloves 24/7.

always a scrappy guy, just prone to excuses. unaware of his potential, just needed some juice and a kick in the teeth 

shaved down, tatted up, forced to accept a harness and muzzle–and it’s nuthin but wanderin fingers to him. can’t even take off his own trunks without assistance. looks at his own single-purpose arms as instruments a blunt force trauma. keep him arm-barred at all times he’s not workin the bag or a dummy to deter cracked skulls and shattered spines to the rest a the crew. lead him around on a choke chain whenever it’s time for a match, bolt him to the wall by his neck, let him feel his dick in another man’s hand whenever he’s gotta piss. milk him with a piston-mounted pocket pussy every couple hours help try’n keep him calm

told he’s a dangerous animal, cause he is. needs to be treated like one. got an entourage a guys with cattle prods on hand for every transport detail. don’t do me much good, they’re hopped up and tweakin at any sudden movement, zappin each other and laughin like dumbfucks while my beast stays crated up 

effects of his trainin grow more intense every day. botched chemical enhancement protocol. not the brightest guys around, these amateur chemists. most of em don’t even got a GED, don’t know a dosage from a dressage. hot blood coursin through slabs a veiny muscle, he’s growin neurologically incapable of any feelin other’n violent rage.

locked deeper in the prison of his own instincts, fills the truck night after night with muffled screams bout needin to fuck and kill, kill and fuck, a vein the size of a python squeezin through his neck and temple. prolly die of a brain hemorrhage in his cage one a these if we don’t dope him down. don’t find a way to get down his tolerance to the formula

those gloves ever gonna come off? what for? you’re a beast, man. beastman. you even want outta those sweat sacks now? no more need for precise manipulation with those big meaty paws, bro.

all ya gotta do is bob and crush, bob and crush. throw punches and beat down the competition

go berserk, big dawg