#then over the top and absurd at the same time

[sweetbunpura]

Rollo tries to propose to Yuu but everyone tries to sabotage him 😈

LMAO, Rollo has to get through so many people just to propose to Yuu!

Rollo vs NRC

The fourth year had come, gone, and they NRC students had returned to the school to graduate. Rollo had spent his apprentice in Fleur city, learning about all he could with his new found interest in volunteer work and planning for his future... in more ways than one. He had purchased a ring, intending to propose to the love of his life at the graduation. Him and Yuu had only grown closer in the time apart, which was a surprise to Rollo, for he had heard how many couples had struggled with long distance relationships.

Outside of phone calls, Rollo had not see her for a year, so had had no idea how much she had changed. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the portal and into the Mirror Chamber. Other 4th years were in there and chatting among one another, most paid him no mind....but he halted as a call of his name sounded.

"Roll-kun!" Cater waved him over.

Rollo approached him and took in the ginger's new looks. Cater had stayed the same height but his hair was different, he had dyed red locks on top of his longer hair. He wrapped him up in a hug and smiled.

"Look at you! Your hair has really grown out! Yuu-chan's gonna love it."

Rollo gave a soft smile and dragged his fingers through his long gray hair. "Thank you, Cater."

"And a smile too? She really changed you~"

"Indeed." Rollo patted his pocket and felt the box against it. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Going to see Child of Man with that ring?"

Rollo jolted and sighed as he turned around to see a smiling Malleus. "Malleus...."

"Hello, Flamme." Malleus gave a small bow. "Am I right in assuming you plan on asking her to marry you?"

"Wait, no kidding!?"

Rollo sighed and nodded. "I am. Now, I'm off to go find her. Farewell."

He left, complete unaware of Malleus and Cater smiling at each other. From there, Rollo could not find Yuu anywhere, and everyone he had asked had pointed him in various opposite directions. Idia and Ortho had straight up lied to him, stating that Yuu wasn't even here to begin with. Silver and Sebek just shook their heads and said that she might be else where, just not on campus. And yet everywhere else had wielding the results of "I don't know"

He was getting frustrated at this point, but before he could even think of where else to go, the announcement for the graduation started. With a sigh, he went to the podium and waiting for eveything to start.

Once the ceremony ended, he departed the stage and was about to start looking for her again, he got tackled.

"Enough of this!" Rollo glared at Deuce, Ace, and Grim. "Why is everyone so hellbent on stopping me!"

"You can't ask her to marry you." Ace grumbled.

"Yeah!" Grim added in. "She's my henchhuman and I don't want you macking on her!"

"By the sevens... We're already dating!" Rollo growled and pried the three off of him. "This is getting absurd!"

"You can't blame us..." Deuce said. "She means the world to us."

"I understand that, but she means the same to me." He sighed. "And I haven't seen her all day. We've only been communicating through calls... And I miss her terribly."

"Aw."

Rollo jolted and turned around to see Yuu standing behind him with Cater and Malleus in a headlock. She smiled warmly at her and her hair had gotten longer, they were worked into brains with hair ornaments in them.

"Love."

"Heard you been looking for me and everyone sent you on a wild goose chase." She shook Cater ad Malleus. "Thanks to these two."

"Guilty as charged~" Cater laughed.

"It was all in good fun." Malleus huffed.

"Now." She dropped them as they landed on the ground face down. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He reached into his pocket and before he could get down on one knee to begin, the others started gathering around.

"Aw~ Snapping Turtle's gonna propose~" Floyd.

"How beautiful!" Rook.

"I'll be the one designing the dress no doubt." Vil.

"About time." Leona.

Rollo sighed as the chatter started up around him, Yuu tugged him forward by his robes.

"I know you had this all planned out, but you know how these guys are." She kissed him. "Put the ring on, the answer's gonna be yes no matter what."

Rollo opened the box and slipped the ring on her before placing his forehead on her shoulder.

"I hate them."

"No, you don't.

[loonatic-moon]

Watching OG Iron chef reruns lately and I’m realizing I enjoy the show for some of the same reasons yakuza/RGG has ate my brain

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[vivwritesfics]

Translator

Oscar Piastri doesn't need a translator, Lando's sister/ Oscars girlfriend disagrees.

Exists in the same universe as "oscah" but they can be read as standalones

Oscar wasn't doing anything special,just talking to Logan when she came over. He greeted her with a small hello, placed his arm over her shoulder and went right back to talking to Logan.

It was a perfectly ordinary interaction, the Formula One drivers thought.

Once Oscar had finished his sentence, as he waited for Logan to reply, she held up her hand. "I got this," she mumbled.

"Got what?" Logan asked, admittedly a little scared. There wasn't anything wrong with Oscar's girlfriend. I mean, Oscar loved her, so she had to be doing something right.

She let out a scoff, one that had the boys knowing that, whatever she was saying, she had to be joking. "So, what Oscar has just said to you, Logan, was 'Hugh Jackman, Kangaroo, shrimp, shrimp, boomerang'."

She looked so serious, Logan couldn't help but laugh. But she looked at him like she was expecting something, eyebrows slightly raised, head tipped towards him. "Logan, your response?"

"Oh my god." It really was ridiculous and oh so her. How hadn't they gotten so used to her shenanigans by now? "Uhm, boomerangs, shrimp. Koala, koala, Straya."

With her face still seriously, she turned towards her boyfriend. "Logan just said he thinks you're an asshole and he wants to give you a big ol' kiss."

"Hey!" Logan cried. "I... did not say that."

Oscar laughed as he pulled her into his chest and pressed his lips against the top of her head. She kissed her boyfriend's cheek and said a goodbye to the two of them, heading back to her brother in the McLaren garage.

She didn't know when she started translating Australian for Oscar. It wasn't something she did for Daniel when he was teammates with her big brother, Lando. But, with Oscar, it just felt right.

The way he wore that little, blushy smile once she'd done it. The first time she'd translated Australia for Lando, he'd simply pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. It had been to shut her up, Oscar not ready to admit that he loved it.

And then, every time since that, Oscar had let her. It was incredible to see the kind of absurd shit she came up with. Her go to's were boomerang and shrimp, but she liked to throw some random ones in there.

But then, the bit started getting old. She'd done it to everybody on the grid, and it was no longer tripping anybody up.

That was when she'd started asking for a response. Hearing the other drivers scramble for a response full of Australian things, it was way more amusing than she'd expected.

But then she started translating what they were saying back to Oscar. It was always some admission of love or somebody insulting him every time.

And, every time Oscar would grin and pull her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek or the top of her head (never one for much PDA).

It was incredibly fun 'speaking Australian' with Daniel Ricciardo. They'd try and have an actual conversation, with neither of them actually knowing what the other was saying. There had been a mixture of laughs and heated arguments in Australian, with neither of them knowing the subject matter.

But, her favourite time to do it was early in the morning, when Oscar would pull her in and kiss her shoulder before settling back to sleep.

She rolled over and pressed a kiss to his chest. "Osc," she mumbled, and he let out a hum, his eyes still shut. "Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman," she whispered and kissed the underside of his jaw.

"Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman to you too," he said and squeezed her against him.

Shrimp, koala, Hugh Jackman = I love you in Australian.

[julietsf1]

Frights & Feuds (🎃) - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: Y/N and Franco never liked each other, but leave it to Lando to throw them into matching costumes at his Halloween party.

warnings: smut!! mdni!!!

AN: so I’ve figured out that I can’t follow anyone back as this is my secondary blog! no moots, just vibes 😔 but wanted to say I really love all the sweet comments I’ve gotten on the last few posts!! I’m traveling for work rn so I might be a bit less responsive, but I appreciate them so much, makes my day! anyway here’s something new <3

___________________________________________

The salty breeze hit my face as I stepped onto Lando’s yacht, excitement bubbling in my chest. A Star Wars-themed Halloween party—on a yacht, no less—was basically a dream come true. I mean, who wouldn't want to channel their inner galactic hero for a night? My white jumpsuit, the one Padmé wore in Attack of the Clones, was snug in all the right places, and with the plastic blaster on my hip, I actually felt like I could take on an army of battle droids.

The yacht itself, though… that was something else entirely.

It was like Halloween had exploded. Neon orange cobwebs, flickering plastic pumpkins, and inflatable ghosts swayed ominously in the breeze. If there was such a thing as too many decorations, Lando had found it and then doubled down. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath as I stepped onto the deck.

“It looks like Party City threw up,” I muttered, shaking my head in amusement. Somehow, that made it perfect. Only Lando could pull off something this chaotic and get away with it.

I wasn’t mad though—this level of over-the-top was what I’d come to expect from him. It was chaotic, ridiculous, and, in its own weird way, perfect. The kind of vibe that told you anything could happen tonight, and honestly? That was exactly what I’d signed up for.

I made my way through the growing crowd, dodging people dressed in costumes so random they made me question if we were even at the same party. Carlos strutted by in his sexy fireman outfit, suspenders barely clinging to his shoulders, a grin stretched across his face.

“Senator,” he said with a mock salute, flexing unnecessarily as he passed.

I laughed. “Carlos, put those away. No one's here to see that.”

“Oh, they are. Trust me.” He winked and strutted off, clearly enjoying the attention.

Just ahead, I spotted Oscar, and… I had to blink twice. He had a slice of bread taped to his chest, and a gold medal swinging from his neck. “Breadwinner,” I muttered, shaking my head.

As I weaved through the madness, Alex clanked around in a robot suit that squeaked with every step. I waved at him, trying not to laugh too hard as his costume practically fell apart before my eyes.

I stopped in my tracks when I caught sight of Max. The world champion himself was dressed as an old lady, complete with a wig, glasses, and a cane. He was shuffling around like he had all the time in the world, and I could practically hear him muttering about “these young people” as he dodged a dancing Daniel, who was in full cowboy mode.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, barely able to contain my laughter as I snapped a quick photo for future blackmail.

Despite the absurdity of it all, the party was fun in that weird, chaotic way that only Lando could pull off. I could already tell it was going to be one of those nights where anything could happen.

Now, if only I could find the mastermind behind this whole mess.

I pushed my way through the crowd, determined to track down Lando and demand an explanation for why I was Padmé in a party full of random costumes. Finally, I spotted him at the bar, leaning casually against the counter in a football jersey, a lazy grin spread across his face.

“Lando!” I called, marching up to him with all the authority I could muster in the little jumpsuit. “We need to talk.”

He turned, his grin widening when he saw me. “Ah, Senator Amidala herself! You made it. Looking good, by the way.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “What is this? You told me this party had a Star Wars theme.”

Lando gave me a look of pure innocence, raising his hands. “I said you had a Star Wars theme. Everyone’s got their own thing going on.”

I blinked. “So, this—” I gestured around the deck, “—isn’t a themed party?”

“Nope!” He popped the “p” with a proud grin. “I thought it’d be more fun to give everyone different costumes. You know, shake things up a bit. Keep people on their toes.”

I groaned, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Of course you did. Why am I even surprised?”

“Come on, you love it,” Lando teased, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “It’s Halloween. You’re supposed to embrace the chaos.”

I snorted. “Chaos, yes. But coordinated chaos, at least. Can’t believe I’m the only one in full Star Wars gear.”

Lando’s grin stretched wider, that mischievous spark lighting up his eyes. “Well, not exactly the only one.”

Before I could even process what that meant, the crowd shifted, and I spotted him.

Franco Colapinto.

He was making his way across the deck, dressed head-to-toe as Anakin Skywalker, lightsaber strapped to his belt, the leather tunic pulling the whole look together in a way that made him stand out. Hair fluffy, stupid grin on his face and a little sparkle in his eyes. I felt a flutter in my stomach. Not because he looked so good—no, more like an annoyance flutter, obviously. Of all people, Lando had paired me with him?

I whipped around to face Lando, who was grinning ear to ear. “Lando. Why the hell is he Anakin?”

Lando laughed, hands up defensively. “Come on, it’s perfect! Padmé and Anakin? Star-crossed lovers, forbidden love, the whole deal. I’m a genius.”

My jaw clenched as I shot Lando a warning glare. “You’re an idiot.”

Franco reached us just as I was about to march off. “Really, Lando?” he said, his tone dripping with irritation. “You had to pair me up with her?”

I crossed my arms, irritation spiking. “Wow, I see you’re already embracing the Anakin vibe. Got the whole ‘whiny man baby’ thing down perfectly.” I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. “What’s next, you gonna throw a tantrum?”

His smirk faltered for a split second before he shot back. “You’d know all about being dramatic, wouldn’t you, Senator?”

I crossed my arms, my annoyance flaring. “Oh please, just so you know, no one’s thrilled about this.”

He shot me an exasperated look. “Right, because being stuck with me is so unbearable.”

“Pretty high on the list, actually,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lando, sensing the tension but clearly loving every second of it, grinned even wider. “Look at this! You two are just proving my point.”

“There is no vibe,” Franco and I said in unison, whipping around to glare at Lando. I could feel my cheeks burning as Franco’s gaze flicked toward me, clearly enjoying the fact that we’d said the same thing at the same time.

Lando, ever the shit-stirrer, shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say. But come on, you guys have been bickering for months. It’s exhausting. Just fuck and get it over with.”

Franco scoffed, folding his arms. “Throw me overboard, please.”

I laughed, feeling a bit of satisfaction at his remark. “Same.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows. “See? Perfect match.”

I was ready to smack the grin off his face. Instead, I opted for a glare. “Lando, there is no match. You’ve been watching too many movies.”

Franco glanced at me, that smug smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Although I can’t blame him for thinking you’d fall for me. I look good tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, already done with this conversation. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Franco chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave the ideas to Norris here.”

Lando beamed as if he’d just won the lottery, clearly thrilled that his plan was working—at least in his mind. “This is gonna be fun.”

I huffed and turned on my heel, determined to find someone else to talk to. Anyone but Franco. Tonight was going to be a nightmare.

..

The thrum of music pulsed through the yacht, vibrating beneath my feet as I wove through the crowd, trying to shake off the lingering annoyance of my earlier encounter with Franco. But even surrounded by the chaos of Lando’s party, it was hard to ignore the nagging feeling that he was somewhere nearby, probably plotting his next move.

I spotted Charles near the bar, sipping something that was probably far too fancy for a Halloween party. He was still in his banana costume—because of course Lando would put him in something like that. And yet, somehow, Charles managed to pull it off, still looking unfairly attractive despite being dressed as a literal piece of fruit.

“Y/N!” he called, waving me over with a wide grin. “Come, dance with me!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I joined him, his infectious energy making it hard to stay in a bad mood. “You’re the only person who can make a banana look good, you know that?”

He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “It’s a gift.”

The music shifted to something more upbeat, and before I could object, Charles pulled me onto the makeshift dance floor. We started moving to the rhythm, his goofy dance moves making me laugh as we twirled around the deck.

It was nice, a welcome distraction from the tension of earlier. That is, until I glanced across the floor and spotted Franco. He was dancing with Alexandra St. Mleux, Charles’s girlfriend, who was dressed as a blueberry—because apparently, that’s what Lando had decided was her fate for the night. Her sleek, dark hair framed her face, and despite the ridiculous costume, she looked effortlessly elegant, as always.

Franco, meanwhile, was his usual smug self, moving with a confidence that grated on my nerves. His eyes met mine briefly, and I could practically see the challenge flash in them. Of course, he couldn’t just leave me in peace.

“Don’t look now,” Charles whispered, leaning in as we twirled closer to Franco and Alexandra, “but I think someone’s trying to make you jealous.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jealous? Please. If anything, I’m just annoyed I have to see his face all night.”

Charles chuckled softly. “Whatever you say.”

We danced around the floor, Charles keeping things light and fun while Franco, predictably, kept throwing glances my way. It was like we were locked in some kind of silent competition, neither of us willing to back down or show any sign of weakness.

Eventually, the two pairs ended up near each other, Franco and Alexandra’s dance bringing them close enough that I could hear Franco’s voice, laced with sarcasm. “Careful, Y/N. Don’t trip in those boots. Would hate to see you fall.”

I shot him a withering look. “At least I don’t have to rely on flashy dance moves to distract from my shitty personality.”

Alexandra glanced between us, her elegant face calm, but I could see the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She exchanged a quick look with Charles, who raised an eyebrow.

“Ils ne s’arrêtent jamais, hein ? On change de partenaire ?” (They never stop, do they? Shall we switch partners?)

Charles nodded, laughing softly. “Ouais, ils vont jamais tenir comme ça.” (Yeah, they’re not gonna last like this.)

Without warning, Charles stepped back, giving Alexandra an exaggerated bow. “May I have this dance?”

Alexandra giggled and curtsied in return. “Of course, mon coeur. You two, don’t kill each other!”

I blinked, caught off guard as Charles grabbed Alexandra’s hand, leaving me standing there, suddenly face-to-face with Franco. He didn’t waste a second, stepping into position, his hand catching mine in a smooth, annoyingly practiced movement.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me again,” Franco said, his voice low and taunting.

I narrowed my eyes. “What a miserable party so far.”

We started to move, circling each other as the music continued to play. The space between us was tight, and the only thickened. My heart pounded with every step, my pulse quickening not from attraction, definitely not. It had to be from the frustration of being stuck in this forced proximity. I could feel Franco’s breath, hot against my skin as we moved, and it made my teeth clench.

“You really should loosen up,” he said, his tone patronizing. “You’re a bit stiff.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my cool. “And you should stop trying so hard to impress everyone.”

Franco raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh, is that what you think I’m doing? Are you impressed?”

“Hardly,” I said, struggling to maintain some distance as we moved in sync. His arm brushed against mine every few seconds, and each touch felt like a spark that kept building. A spark of annoyance of course.

His gaze flicked down to my feet, and he chuckled. “You know, for someone who likes to talk big, your dancing skills could use some work. Trying not to step on my toes?”

I felt a surge of irritation. “Maybe I should. It might actually shut you up.”

Franco’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Go ahead. I can take it.”

I didn’t hesitate. Before I could second-guess myself, I stomped down hard on his foot. The satisfying thud made him wince, his smirk faltering for a split second. The rush of satisfaction was immediate, and I pulled away from him, offering a sweet, sarcastic smile.

“There,” I said, with faux sweetness. “Happy?”

Franco, still gritting his teeth, shot me a look that said he was both irritated and impressed. “Thrilled.”

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked off, feeling the tension melt away with each step. I spotted George by the drinks, watching the whole thing with an amused smile. His Shakespearean costume—complete with ruffled collar and feathered quill—stood out for all the wrong reasons.

As I approached, George raised an eyebrow and took a dramatic sip from his drink. “A thousand times more captivating than the finest of plays,” he said in a mock-Shakespearean voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Verily, the bickering hath been most entertaining.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “Don’t.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying my frustration. “What? I’m just saying. It’s entertaining.”

“I swear, Lando’s going to pay for this,” I muttered, grabbing a drink from the bar.

George chuckled softly. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But, if it makes you feel any better, I’m fairly certain you got Franco good there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He nodded, trying and failing to hide a grin. “He’s limping.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension from the dance fading as I sipped my drink. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

..

I took another sip of my drink, letting the laughter and music swirl around me. After the disaster of dancing with Franco, I was ready for a moment of peace. Nearby, George—ever the history enthusiast—was in the middle of a dramatic lecture on Halloween traditions, his Shakespearean outfit only adding to the theatrical flair. Oscar and Lewis stood at his side, looking like trapped animals in search of an escape route.

“So you see,” George continued, waving his feathered quill like it was a sword, “the tradition of carving pumpkins actually stems from the Irish myth of Stingy Jack. A fellow who tricked the devil himself and was condemned to wander the Earth with only a hollowed-out turnip to light his way.”

Oscar blinked slowly, clearly trying to appear engaged. “Turnip, huh? Fascinating.”

Lewis, looking angelic in his costume complete with wings cleared his throat. “That’s, um, really something, mate. But I should… probably check on something.” He made a hasty retreat, flashing Oscar a grateful look as he melted into the crowd.

George sighed dramatically as he watched him go. “He’s made a habit of leaving me recently. You’d think I’m the devil, and Ferrari’s his hollowed-out turnip.”

Oscar smirked, trying not to laugh. “Or maybe it’s because you get a bit... passionate with your history lessons. No offense.”

George flourished his quill with an exaggerated air of gravitas. “I am nothing if not committed to the education of my peers.”

I joined them just as Oscar gave me a playful nudge. “You missed quite the lecture on the importance of pumpkins.”

I chuckled, taking a sip of my drink. “I’m sure it was riveting.”

Oscar’s eyes flicked over my costume, a mischievous glint in them. “By the way, love the couple’s costume. Padmé and Anakin? Very cute.”

I groaned, already feeling the familiar annoyance creep up. “Don’t even start. I swear, if this blaster were real, I’d have already used it on him.”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. “Easy there, Senator. You don’t want to go full dark side.”

I sighed, leaning back against the bar. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t quite pinpoint why Franco and I rubbed each other the wrong way. Sure, his cocky smirk was enough to set me on edge, but there was more to it than that. Something about his whole persona made me want to throttle him.

“You’re really not into the whole star-crossed lovers thing, huh?” Oscar teased.

I shot him a look. “If I wanted a tragic romance, I’d read a book. Right now, I just want to make it through this night without throwing Franco off the yacht.”

Oscar’s grin widened. “You two have a vibe, though. It’s hard to miss.”

I rolled my eyes. “If by ‘vibe,’ you mean I’d love to smack him in the face, then sure.”

Before Oscar could respond, Carlos swooped in with a grin, his fireman costume still drawing more attention than it should have. “Ah, the fighting—classic signs of passion. You know what they say about hate, right?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. It’s passion in disguise?”

Carlos wagged a finger at me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Exactly. All that energy has to go somewhere. I’m a fireman, I recognize fire when I see it.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “I am not taking you serious as a fireman with a uniform like that.”

Carlos laughed, undeterred. “You know, sparks like this? They usually lead to something pretty interesting.”

I crossed my arms. “It’s not sparks, Carlos. It’s a dumpster fire.”

..

The bass of the music was pulsing through the yacht as Lando spun track after track in the DJ booth, looking far too pleased with himself. A crowd had gathered around, hyped up by his usual antics, and the energy was infectious. I was craving a break from all the drama and tension on the deck, so I made my way over to him. He spotted me and waved me in with an exaggerated grin.

“Y/N!” he shouted over the music. “Come save me from my own brilliance!”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling as I slipped into the booth. “Brilliance, huh? Pretty sure you’re just pressing buttons.”

“Hey, there’s an art to this,” Lando replied, turning a dial with unnecessary flair. “You’re just not refined enough to get it.”

I snorted. “Right, forgot you’re the second comming of Beethoven.”

He shot me a cheeky grin. “Finally you appreciate my genius. Speaking of appreciating things—what’s the status with you and lover boy over there?”

I frowned, confused. “Lover boy? What are you talking about?”

Lando gestured with his chin toward the bar. I followed his gaze and—of course—there was Franco, surrounded by a group of girls, all of them looking way too captivated by whatever nonsense he was saying. I felt an annoying twinge of something in my chest.

“Oh him. Glad he’s entertaining the entire female population on this yacht and out of my way.” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.

Lando’s eyes gleamed, and he leaned in with a wicked grin. “Ohhh, someone's sounding a little jealous.”

I shot him a look. “You are out of your damn mind, Norris.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Lando said, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve got that tone, Y/N. The one where you’re pretending you don’t care but deep down you do.”

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “Lando, I don’t care. At all.”

He smirked. “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England. Come on, just admit it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, I’m thrilled to have a break.”

Lando leaned closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “Darling, you totally dig that weird tension you’ve got. Sucks you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

I nudged him, hard. “I swear, you’re the most annoying person on this boat.”

He laughed, dodging me as he adjusted the volume. “I live to serve. But come on, there’s clearly a thing here.”

“There’s no thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He just rubs me the wrong way. That’s it.”

Lando looked at me mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe you should ask if he can rub you—”

“Don’t,” I warned.

He flashed a wicked grin. “Fine, fine. But it’s only a matter of time.”

I shoved him again, a little harder this time, accidentally knocking over my drink which spilled directly onto the electronics.

“Oh, shit!” I gasped, scrambling to grab a napkin, but it was too late.

A loud pop echoed through the booth, and suddenly, the entire yacht went dark. The music cut off, the lights blinked out, and silence descended over the party.

For a second, there was nothing but confused murmuring from the crowd, people pulling out their phones for light. But Lando? Lando was doubled over, laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my God,” he gasped between fits of laughter. “You—You just shut down the entire party!”

I stood there, frozen in disbelief. “I didn’t mean to! I—oh my God, what did I do?”

Lando was still laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

I glared at him. “Lando! This is serious!”

But he couldn’t stop. “Serious? This is the funniest thing! Instantly makes the party more interesting.”

As people around us tried to figure out what was happening, Lando clapped me on the shoulder, still chuckling. “You’re a hot mess, Y/N. Never change.”

As the yacht rocked gently in the dark, I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Leave it to Lando to find humor in the disaster I’d just caused.

..

The yacht was pitch black, save for the glow of a few phone screens. Lando, ever the opportunist in chaos, was soaking it all in, practically buzzing with excitement.

"Alright, people!" he yelled, his voice carrying over the deck. "The power’s out, the music’s dead—so you know what that means. It’s time for a game of truth or dare!"

A chorus of laughter and groans followed, but with the party in full swing, no one was about to leave just because the lights were out. Alex, the saint that he is, immediately started working on fixing the power while the other people started gathering in a loose circle, the mood shifting into something more mischievous, encouraged by the anonymity the dark provided.

I found myself sitting next to Oscar, who still had his ridiculous slice of bread taped to his chest, and on my other side, George, who looked far too excited for whatever was about to happen. Across the circle, Franco leaned back against the railing, his face barely visible in the flickering light of someone’s phone, but I could sense that annoying grin of his even in the dark.

“Alright, who’s first?” Lando asked, rubbing his hands together like he was about to start the most chaotic plan of the night.

Max, who was still rocking the old lady costume, raised his hand. “Truth,” he said, a little too eagerly.

Lando grinned. “Max! Alright, truth: Have you ever used a fake name at a hotel to avoid fans?”

Max barely hesitated. “Of course. I go by ‘Gertrude’—suits the look, don’t you think?” He gestured to his outfit, earning laughs from around the circle.

Lando chuckled, then pointed at Oscar. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Oscar sighed dramatically, clearly not enthused but willing to play along. “Dare.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Alright, I dare you to dance… interpretively… to the sound of silence.”

Oscar rolled his eyes but stood up, performing the most absurd, exaggerated dance moves to the silent deck. Everyone was in hysterics by the end of it, with Oscar bowing dramatically before sitting back down.

The game rolled on, with truths and dares flying left and right. Checo was dared to chug a mystery drink—something Max had mixed together from the darkest corners of the yacht’s mini-bar. Lewis was asked to reveal his most embarrassing podium moment, which turned out to involve him tripping over a champagne bottle and almost face-planting in front of the world’s cameras.

And then it was my turn.

Lando turned to me, that gleam in his eyes saying he was about to stir the pot. “Y/N. Truth or dare?”

I sighed, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on me. “Dare,” I said, determined to go for it.

Lando’s grin widened, and I could see mischief brewing in his eyes. “Alright, Y/N, since you’re so brave… I dare you to whisper something you’d never admit in front of anyone—right in Franco’s ear.”

The circle erupted in laughter and teasing whistles. I felt my face go hot, and I shot Lando a murderous look. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope!” Lando said, looking far too proud of himself. “And make it something juicy, too.”

I crossed my arms, the heat rising in my cheeks as Franco leaned back, arms crossed, smirking like this was the greatest thing that could’ve happened to him tonight.

“Well?” he drawled, clearly enjoying the situation. “You gonna play along?”

The group was watching, waiting, and there was no way I could back out now. I steeled myself, got up, and marched over to him. Leaning down, I got as close to his ear as possible, feeling the warmth radiate off him.

I hesitated for a split second, questioning if I should really be honest, before whispering, just loud enough for only him to hear, “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, and the fact that you know you’re hot makes it worse.”

I pulled back quickly, my face burning, refusing to meet his gaze. His smirk deepened, but to my surprise, he didn’t respond—just stared at me, eyes glinting in the dim light, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. For a moment, I thought he looked… confused, entertained? Seems like I had succesfully thrown him off his game though.

But the confusion didn’t last long. Franco shifted back into his cocky persona like slipping on an old coat, leaning casually against the railing with that same infuriating smirk. Whatever moment had passed between us was over, buried beneath his usual act.

“Well, that must’ve been juicy,” Lando said, cackling. “Look at his face!”

I sat back down, trying to shake off the weird tension that seemed to hang in the air. Franco didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me. Whatever. It wasn’t worth dwelling on.

The game continued, people laughing and shouting as the dares got more ridiculous, but my focus was elsewhere.

..

Thank god that it didn’t take long for Alex to fix the electricity with a generator. The lights flickered back on, the music resumed, and the entire yacht buzzed with renewed energy. George, of course, was taking full credit for saving the night, and Alex looked just as proud.

People were back to dancing and laughing, picking up right where they left off. The power outage had become just another part of the weird night. But after the tension from earlier—the truth or dare, the constant run-ins with Franco—I needed a break from it all.

The temperature had dropped, and my costume wasn’t offering much warmth.

I slipped away from the crowd, making my way toward Lando’s room, knowing he always kept a stash of hoodies and sweaters for moments like these. A moment of peace, away from the noise and tension, sounded perfect.

I pushed open the door to Lando’s room, expecting it to be empty. But, of course, my luck was running out tonight. Franco was there, standing near the closet, rummaging through Lando’s things.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, my irritation flaring immediately.

He glanced up, completely unfazed by my entrance. “Looking for my lightsaber,” he said casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“In Lando’s room?” I crossed my arms, my irritation spiking further. “Are you serious?”

Franco shrugged, standing upright with that infuriating smirk on his face. “What? It might’ve ended up here. You know how parties go.”

I rolled my eyes and moved toward the dresser. “Of course. Can’t even keep track of a toy.”

He leaned against the closet door, still watching me. “I didn’t realize my presence would offend you so much.”

I turned to face him, the frustration from the entire night bubbling up. “Your presence always offends me. Honestly, I hate that I have to see your stupid face everywhere.”

His smirk widened, eyes gleaming. “That’s funny, because I remember you saying earlier that you think I am hot.”

My hands tightened into fists at my sides. “I said that to get a reaction and get Lando off my back.”

“Sure,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Just happened to he something you came up with. I doubt you hate my face as much as you claim.”

“You are so full of yourself,” I spat, the anger flaring in my chest. “You walk around here like you own the place, thinking everyone is in love with you.”

Franco took another step, the space between us shrinking. “I’m not full of myself. I’m confident and charming. There’s a difference.”

“Charming?” I scoffed. “More like delusional.”

His expression darkened, but his smirk didn’t fade. “Oh, and you’re so different? Always twirling around, batting your eyelashes.”

I took a step toward him, my heart pounding. “I don’t twirl, and I don’t bat my eyelashes at anybody. Especially not to you.”

His eyes narrowed, and the tension between us thickened, our words sharper now, cutting into the air between us. “Please. You’re just pissed off because you can’t handle the fact that you are wildly attracted to me.”

“God, I hate you,” I growled, my voice barely above a whisper.

And then, before I could even process what was happening, I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him toward me. The kiss was sudden, explosive—born out of the fire of our argument. Franco didn’t hesitate, his hands gripping my waist as he kissed me back with the same intensity.

The heat between us was overwhelming, fueled by all the anger, all the frustration that had been building up. His lips were rough against mine, his body pressing me back against the wall as the kiss deepened.

His mouth was hot and demanding. I kissed him back, my frustration and desire merging into one explosive force. My fingers tangled in his hair, softly holding on to his brown locks for support. He groaned, making my mind run places I didn’t think it would.

Breaking away for air, I gasped, "This doesn’t change anything."

Franco chuckled, his warm breath fanning my face. "Keep telling yourself that, cariño."

He still towered over me, my body between his and the door.

"You think you know everything, don't you?” I said rolling my eyes, only half annoyed.

"I know what I want right now," he murmured, his hands sliding up my thighs, tugging on the waistband of my shorts. "And I want you."

I hate to admit but that definitely sent some flutters to my stomach. Without thinking I put my lips on his again.

He swiftly pulled down my shorts, fingers teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, making me tremble. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I tugged on his shirt, signaling to take it off.

With a smirk he stepped back and took off the top half of his costume, revealing his sculpted chest. I stared with googly eyes, not even caring at this point.

“¿Apurada, eh?” He grinned, his eyes dark with intent, "Good, because I can't wait much longer either."

He swiftly reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head. As I pulled down my pants, I could see a little blush creeping up on his cheeks.

I kissed him hard, biting his lower lip, tasting the saltiness of his skin. My hands explored his body, mapping the contours of his muscles. He groaned again, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my hardening nipples.

He smiled against my lips, his hands moving lower. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly slid them down my legs, his touch electric.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

He lifted me up, his hands on my ass, wrapping my legs around him for support. He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth as he undid my bra with practiced ease, freeing my breasts, and then lowered his head, taking a nipple into his mouth. I arched off the doorframe, moaning as his tongue teased and suckled.

"You like that, huh?" He whispered, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

I could barely form words, but I managed to gasp, "Please, Franco..."

He moved one of his hands to between my thighs, feeling the arousal dripping between my legs.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his fingers working my sensitive clit, making me squirm. "You want me inside you, don't you?"

I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, please... I need you."

“Such a good girl for me.” He said, with a dark twinkle in his green eyes.

Franco did not waste a moment, quickly lowering his pants, letting his cock spring free. He positioned himself between my thighs, pressing against my entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I cried out.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through me, building towards something incredible. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he grunted, his eyes closed in concentration. "Tight... so fucking tight."

He started speeding up his pace. The tension coiled within me, tighter and tighter with each thrust. I could feel my orgasm building, a delicious pressure building at my core.

"Franco... I'm close," I panted, my voice hoarse.

He deepened his strokes, his hips snapping against mine, driving me wild. "Come for me, cariño. Let it go."

His words were all I needed. With a final, powerful thrust, I shattered, crying out his name as my body trem. Franco followed, his own release spilling deep within me, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

We both sank down on the ground, our hearts racing, our bodies slick with sweat. I turned my head, meeting his intense gaze.

Franco’s expression softened, the tension in the air shifting into something heavier, something neither of us could brush off. “I didn’t think this would feel so… right.”

I didn’t fight it this time. “Me either.”

He leaned in again, slower this time, as if daring me to stop him. But I didn’t. I closed the distance, giving in to the pull between us.

..

The door closed behind us with a soft click, and I took a breath, still trying to shake the whirlwind of what had just happened. The party outside was still going strong, lights and music filling the night air. Franco walked beside me, casual as ever, but the tension between us still lingered, making every step feel more charged than it should.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Lando appeared, sliding smoothly between us like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. His grin was wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, well, well!” he chimed, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders. “Look who finally decided to rejoin the living! What were you two doing in there? Having a nice little chat?”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. “Lando, can you not?”

“Can I not?” he gasped dramatically, pulling his arms back and clutching his chest like I’d mortally wounded him. “After all I’ve done for you two? I think you owe me some credit here.”

Franco smirked, clearly amused by Lando’s antics. “Credit for what? Being a pain in the ass?”

Lando sighed theatrically, looking between us. “Oh please, you’re both welcome. I’ve been watching this play out for weeks. It was only a matter of time.”

Franco glanced at me, catching my eye with a lingering look. His smirk softened slightly, his eyes flicking down briefly before meeting mine again, a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

I felt my breath catch, a slight flutter in my chest that I tried to ignore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Norris,” I muttered, but my voice lacked its usual edge.

Franco chuckled, and I could feel the heat of his arm brushing against mine, his presence suddenly feeling heavier in the best way.

Lando caught the exchanged glances, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said, leaning back and pretending to cross his arms. “You two are having a moment and I’m just here… being forgotten.”

Franco raised an eyebrow, turning to me with a grin. “Looks like we’ve upset him.”

I shot him a warning look but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Ignore him.”

Lando groaned. “You two are turning on me already.”

Franco leaned in a little closer to me, his voice low but loud enough for Lando to hear. “I guess we do make a good team.”

I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks at the comment, but I brushed it off with a playful scoff. “Don’t push your luck.”

Lando, meanwhile, was trying his best to get back into the conversation. “Anyway, now that you’ve finally gotten past all the tension, what’s next? Dinner? A romantic stroll under the moonlight?”

Franco grinned, glancing at me before turning back to Lando. “Actually, I was thinking breakfast.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

Franco turned fully toward me, his grin softening just a little. “Yeah. Breakfast. Tomorrow.”

I leaned in smiling, giving him a little peck. “Sounds lovely.”

I swear Franco was blushing a bit, the twinkle in his eyes brighter than ever. Who would’ve thought.

Lando, realizing he wasn’t the one in control of the conversation anymore, groaned dramatically. “Gross. I’ve I had known I’d be third-wheeling this hard I would’ve not played cupid.”

Franco laughed, shaking his head. “Pretty sure you’ll survive.”

Lando stepped back, pretending to sulk. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He turned to me, his grin reappearing. “For now.”

“Not surprised,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.

Lando gave a little wave, already walking back toward the rest of the party. “Enjoy your breakfast date! And remember—you can thank me later!”

As he disappeared into the crowd, I let out a long breath, finally turning back to Franco. He was watching me, a quiet smile still playing on his lips.

“So, breakfast?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, leaning in slightly. “Yep. I figure we’ve had enough drama for one night. Why not start the day fresh?”

I met his eyes for a moment before nodding. That sounded very cute. “Alright. Breakfast it is.”

Franco grinned, the cocky edge softening into something more sincere. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’d better be on time.”

“Oh, I will be,” he said, brushing his hand against mine for just a moment. “No way I’m missing this.”

[thedensworld]

I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

[ozzgin]

Based on The Lighthouse (2019) movie, because I feel like it would make a nice monster romance. Isolation, vivid dreams of sea creatures, and a tentacle beast hiding in the top room? Come on.

Content: gender neutral reader, same gendered captain (homoerotic tension), monster romance (merfolk and tentacles), dubious consent, absurdism, horror, NSFW

“Y’know, the others…they don’t make it to the six month mark.”

Your captain continues to eat, unbothered by the ominous statement they just made. You fiddle with your cutlery, slowly digesting your present circumstances.

You’ve been shipped to this island as the lighthouse keeper. It’s you, the captain, and the tall, crashing waves. A boat will pick you up and bring you back to land in a few months, if everything goes well.

If everything goes well.

You drag your feet upstairs, to the small, cramped room you share with your higher up. Your hands search underneath the pillow, until they eventually pull out a wooden statue. It’s a monstrous human donning a chiseled fish tail instead of legs; the merfolk. You’d found the trinket on the day you moved in, stuffed in your mattress.

When did your vivid dreams start? Probably around the same time as your discovery. You opened your eyes to a pale, deformed creature thrusting into you. You could hear the wet, sloppy sound of its claspers ruining your hole, the waves breaking against the rocky shore, and its breathy giggle as it observed you. You tried to slap it off you, but your arms were mush, flailing without aim. Your gaze lowered to its long, scaly tail, spasming and curving to the rhythm of your defile.

One morning, you woke up outside, sprawled on the sand with your tongue dried up and your skin scratched all over. Your fingers relaxed, revealing a clump of translucent scales.

“You must’ve sleepwalked”, the captain declared at the time, stroking your hair with one hand and holding their smoking pipe in another. They reminded you of your parent, yet the nostalgic feeling quickly vanished once their bony fingers slid up your thigh.

You sat in their lap, quietly accepting the flaccid explanation. Then, you wondered whether to bring up another dilemma: at night, you can hear them sneaking away, up into the locked room you are forbidden from seeing.

“No one but me has a key to it”, the captain huffed. “It’s where we keep the light. It’s the heart of the lighthouse.”

You followed them once, much too curious to remain in your chamber, silently pacing yourself to their heavy, limp step. Through the cracks of the attic door, you could see enormous tentacles swirling around, engulfing the burning lamp. You ran back to your room, hiding under the blankets and praying for an ounce of clarity. In your slumber, you met the kraken once more. It throbbed and slithered, calling out to you alluringly.

“I dreamt of a beast with many tendrils”, you finally confessed, squirming within the firm hold of the sailor.

“It does have a thing for pretty ones like ya!” the captain joked, releasing a loud, strident laugh.

You place down the statue and flip through the pages of your work journal. Only a few more months to go. Then you’ll be away from the bizarre visions, and the strange yearnings, and the isolation. You’ve touched yourself one too many times to the uncanny silence.

“Dumbass!”

The captain sways in, visibly drunk. They notice your thick, little binding of pages and chuckle.

“The boat was s’pposed to arrive yesterday. You missed it. Matter of fact, it never showed up.”

No. They’re lying again. They always feed you nonsense and fake promises!

Your ears pick up a faint sound coming from outside, millions of suction cups rapping at the old tile of the lighthouse, trampling down to your window.

You’re not stranded here. It can’t be.

[More Monsters]

[xxsabitoxx]

Stress Reliever

Toji x Female Reader

Warnings: hotel sex, face sitting, implied no romantic relationship / no romantic feelings, teasing, coming on Toji’s face, rough sex, mating press, creampies, dirty talk, degrading, yeah.

A/N: the first of many scheduled posts! You may have already seen this on my Ao3 under the same user, I posted it a few weeks back

Word count: 2.5k

“Sit on my face.”

“Yeah? How much is that gonna cost me?” You snuffed your cigarette out regardless, eyeing the man before you with interest as he flopped down on his bed.

“No fucking cost. I need to calm down. So quit yapping and come sit on my face.” He nearly growled, eyes narrowing as they looked at you.

As if he was daring you to defy him.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it, pushing up from your seat just to bend down and pull your pants and underwear off.

“You sure you won’t charge me, Toji?”

You continued to push him, watching as his scarred lips pulled tight in a sneer. “I will if you keep fucking talking.”

“What a gentleman.” You sigh, clambering onto the cheap hotel mattress with the goal of straddling his face. You looked down at him, face warm as your thighs caged in his face. “What are you waiting for?”

His tone was low, impatient in tone as your cunt hovered inches from his face. “Just making sure.” Toji didn’t seemed satisfied with that, warm hands grabbing your thighs and tugging you down onto his mouth.

A gasp tore from your throat, hips jerking as Toji’s tongue slipped between your folds. You let your head fall back, hands moving to rest on your thighs as Toji’s nails dug into your skin.

His tongue was lapping your cunt like a starved man, sliding up your slit and collecting your arousal, leaving you utterly breathless.

Your hips grew restless, jerking along his mouth and causing you to double over as his nose bumped your clit. It wasn’t taking long at all for Toji to get you worked up, the sweetness of your arousal finally hitting him after a minute. “T-Toji-“ weak, full of need.

He only grunted, the sensation vibrating your cunt as your hand shot down to grab his hair. Your other hand found its home on top of his, holding it tightly as he guided your hips to grind down on his face.

“Don’t stop-“ you wheezed out, arousal bubbling in your gut and make your thighs tense as Toji’s tongue slipped past your entrance. You jerked forward, clit bumping his nose again but this time you ground down on it, moaning wantonly as pleasure burst through your veins.

It was lewd, grinding your cunt on his face, his hands holding you down so you couldn’t get away from him even if you wanted to. You had to wonder how he was even breathing, your cunt had to be suffocating him.

It felt wet and hot, saliva and arousal mixing with the hot panting of his breath. It felt filthy, especially with how hungry he was for something so private. “Toji… m’gonna cum.” You slurred, chest heaving as your walls clenched around the tip of his tongue. Not nearly enough.

Toji’s grip tightened, urging you to keep moving until you reached your end. Your hips jerked steadily along the plains of his face, clit grinding down shamelessly against the tip of his noise while his tongue lapped at you.

You were close, cunt pulsating with need as your orgasm threatened to have you seeing stars. “Toji…fuck Toji you’re… I’m gonna… you’re gonna make me…” you huffed, brain melting as pleasure coursed through you.

“Toji~” your cried again, head falling back as your breathing stuttered. You came on his tongue, the small gush of your arousal signaling to Toji that he had accomplished what he wanted.

Still, he didn’t let you move, not yet.

Your hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing them through the material of your shirt as you tried to calm your breathing. Your head fell forward opposed to back, looking down at what was visible of him.

“T-Toji… too much…” you pleaded, hips trying to jerk away from him as his tongue ran up your slit. Reluctantly, he let your thighs go, allowing you to lift off of his face. But not before he placed a chaste kiss to your clit.

“Can’t ever get enough of this pussy…” he groaned, cock throbbing in his pants as you shakily fell onto the mattress beside him. “Let me fuck you.”

“F-free of charge?”

You teased, chest still rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm down from your high. He rolled his eyes, tongue sweeping over his arousal covered lips. “I swear I’ll fucking charge ya if you keep saying that shit.

You were grinning, lazy and exhausted from something that didn’t even require all that much effort from you. “You can fuck me, Toji.” You breathed out, moving to pull your shirt off of your body.

“Thank fuck.” Toji nearly moaned, pushing off the bed and making a show of pulling off his shirt for you. “Got me covered in your fucking cum.” He spat, but there was clear pride in his tone as he wiped his face.

You only pouted, face warming as you spread your legs for him. “Quit playing, fuck me.” You nearly demanded as your eyes shamelessly roamed his sculpted frame.

You felt sticky, arousal still dripping from your entrance. “I’m more than ready, Toji.” You added in a sing-song voice, hands toying with your breasts as he pushed his pants down and off his body.

“I know you are but quit rushing me.” He sighed, hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few hard tugs. “Look what you did to me, fucking rude.” It came out as a growl, one that sent a shiver straight through you.

You stayed silent, observing the veins in his hand as he jerked himself, precum spilling out the slit and dripping down his shaft. “Don’t waste anything, I want it all.” You breathed out, eyes feeling heavy as he stopped.

“Fine, since you’re so damn impatient… I won’t make you or your pussy wait any longer.” But there was a promise in those words, one that was filled with the intent of fucking you into oblivion. It almost made you regret rushing him in the first place… Almost.

“Don’t break anything, Toji. I don’t have the money to pay the hotel for a new bed… or wall for that matter.” You grinned despite your heart rate spiking, watching him crawl onto the bed. You felt like caught prey.

“I thought you were supposed to be my sugar mama.” He grinned, sly and sadistic as he hovered over you. Your legs stretched, accommodating his body as you sighed. “Don’t push your luck, Toji.” But he knew damn well he could push you over the edge and you’d come back.

Every. Single. Time.

“Eh, don’t try and act scary, doll . You know nobody can fuck you the way I do.” As if to prove his point, the dull head of his cock was sliding between your folds, catching on your entrance before pushing forward. Your head fell back against the mattress, neck straining and eyes squeezing shut as Toji shoved himself insides.

Your hands twitched, tightening significantly around your own breasts as you inhaled sharply through your nose. Toji was thick, so thick that no amount of preparation would help the ache that spread through your body.

“Fuck!” You whined, body adjusting to the weight and stretch of his cock inside of you. Your thighs burned, an ache settling so deeply inside your gut you couldn’t even muster the strength to lock your ankles around his back.

“Careful now, wouldn’t want a noise complaint.” Toji’s lips were pressed to your ear, his voice low and rumbling in his chest as he settled nearly all of his weight on you.

He loved the way you gasped for air, completely at his mercy. Sensing your struggle, one of Toji’s hands came down to grab behind your knee, forcing your leg up towards your chest. He sunk in even deeper, pulling all air from your lungs in the process.

“T-Toji—“ but he only grunted, giving you a little mercy by balancing more weight on his knees. It was only brief, giving him enough time to grab your other leg and fold your body into a mating press.

“Be a good bitch for me, yeah?”

“You fucking jack as- ahh~” he drew back half way, cock dragging along your velvety walls and making your head spin. “Like I said, be good.” He purred, teeth sinking into your earlobe as he finished his sentence.

Toji’s pace was brutal off the bat, hips drawing back half way just to snap forward and jerk you half way up the bed. You were certain you’d be pressed to the headboard by the end of this… despite staring at the foot.

It took a few thrusts for the ache to turn into pure arousal mixing with pleasure, your body giving away how much you were enjoying this with the way every thrust was met with a wet squelch. “T-Toji-“ you stuttered yet again, as if his name was the only word you could remember.

“Yeah?” He’s groaning, getting lost in the delicious heat of your cunt as he pistons his hips in and out of you.

But nothing came out of your mouth except for a jumble of moans and whines, feeling delirious from the pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. “You’re gonna come, aren’t ya?” He hissed, head dipping down to bury in the crook of your neck as he waiting for your answer.

“Y-yeah— fuck yes… oh fuck…” you wailed, one hand digging into his bicep for support while the other tried to smack over your mouth. “Don’t you dare.”

You froze, eyes wide and glossy as you stared up at him. If it weren’t for the way he was pounding you, you were certain you’d feel the ache in your muscles due to the position he had you bent in.

Toji stopped all movement, burying himself deep inside of you and watching you squirm at the feeling. He was pressing into your cervix, causing your hips to jerk in attempt to alleviate the pressure. “Don’t you dare try and muffle your noises, I want to hear everything.”

Shakily, you pulled your hand away, lips trembling with effort as you tried to hold your noises in anyways.

Toji pulled back again, cock drawing out of you before thrusting back in. He found his pace again within a few thrusts, knees digging into the mattress as he put all of his body weight on you. “T-Toji-!” You wheezed out, head spinning as he restricted your airway.

“Yeah? Feel good?” He grinned at you, pleasure shooting all the way up his spine as your cunt suctioned to him. “You’re so fucking filthy.” He added, sure his cock was covered in your arousal, building around the base of his shaft and covering his pubic bone.

“This pussy is always so wet for me, it pisses you off that I turn you on, doesn’t it?” Your head thrashed around, a feeble cry of “no!” leaving your lips but Toji only clicked his tongue. “I don’t believe you.”

Still grinning, he pushed into you a little harsher, relishing in the sounds of you crying as he gave you everything. He knew he could be rough, he knew you could take it.

Everything was becoming too much for you, the pleasure building in your gut spreading straight down. You were close, barely being able to suck air into your lungs, the stress drag of his cock, his public bone hitting your clit over and over. It was enough to have you seeing stars.

“Come for me, make a fucking mess.” He seethed, head falling forward as he focused all of his energy on thrusting into your sopping cunt. “Ruin the hotel bed, fuck, ruin it.” Toji was begging you now, goosebumps erupting along his flesh as you clamped down.

“C-can’t… Toji please!” You cried, praying he would ease up but you knew he wouldn’t. It was only getting worse, making your hands tighten into fists as you tried to stave off your orgasm. It’s not that you didn’t want to cum, you just knew it would destroy the sheets and mattress below. Not that Toji cared, that was clearly his goal.

“Cum, don’t hold back. Cum all over my cock.”

He whispered, sweat beading down his temple as he hovered over you. The grip Toji had on your legs was bruising, there would absolutely be marks left.

“Ruin me, y/n.”

You felt your heart stutter, what little air you could get in your lungs left you in a sharp exhale. A silent cry left your lips as you head tossed back, eyes squeezing shut as you came. Toji didn’t slow, trusting into your sloppy cunt until he felt your release dripping down his thighs.

You had flooded him with warmth, creating a wet mark on the sheets below as he drew more and more from you. “Gonna…shit… gonna fill this pretty cunt up with my cum. Bet you’d love that, huh? Cum all over my like the whore you are and then get stuffed full with my cum?”

All you could manage was a whimper, nails digging so harshly into his biceps that you were certain blood would well in the crescent markings. “Gonna dump a load on you, sweetheart. You’d fucking love that, I know.”

Toji’s mouth had slackened, matching yours as you gasped and moaned pathetically.

You felt overstimulated, the roll of his hips prolonging the feeling of your orgasm even after it had faded. “Shit…” he spoke through gritted teeth, ignoring the way you seemed to be close to blacking out as he chased his release. “Fuck… fuck… fuck I’m gonna cum…

Three hard hits and Toji was spilling into you, moaning wantonly as came. You couldn’t think straight much less see through the stars spotting your vision.

You felt dizzy, the grip on his biceps loosening as your limbs turned to jelly. “Good girl…” he encouraged, having enough decency to pull some of his body weight up and off you. “You took me so well.” Toji grinned, letting your legs go gently and settling them back on the mattress since he was sure you couldn’t feel much.

Toji’s praise was rare, but he couldn’t help it when you looked the way you did right now. So utterly fucked out, cunt spent and full of his release. “Bet you can’t even hear me.” He had the audacity to snort, pulling his softened cock out of you and watching his cum follow.

“Damn…” soft, just above a whisper as his eyes locked on the sight of your cunt spilling his cum. Gingerly, Toji’s thumb found its way between your slick folds, collecting what had spilled out and shoving it back in.

“Gonna lose everything I worked so hard to give you? Maybe I should retract my praise?” That same shit eating grin plastered to his tired face, watching your eyes close as your breathing finally returned to normal. “Did I fuck your ability to speak out of you?”

All you could manage was a shake of your head, unable to find the strength to keep your eyes open never mind talk. “I guess I can let it slide… go to bed I’ll clean you.” You didn’t quite believe him when he said that, but you were too far gone to care. Sleep took you seconds later, body relaxing into the ruined sheets as Toji sighed.

“Ya know, you aren’t half bad.” This time, he was sincere.

[bigfatbimbo]

Once again , please tell me if you're uncomfortable writing it, but Ford being so starved of touch, having so many places of stimulation touched on his body and being praised that he's accidentally cumming very quickly in his pants during a heavy make out session!

He says a little "Oh! :( " when it happens.

He feels very mortified and ashamed, tries to hide it first to make it unnoticeable (he failed big time at it). His girlfriend reassures him, tells him it's okay, it's hot and there's nothing to be ashamed of. ❤️😭

-🌌

Work Break

700 words,, Stanford x reader

a/n — Couldn’t think of a song title this time, I feel out of character. Also this isn’t proofread.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, at what point in the series this takes place is unclear, gender neutral!reader, sub!ford

summary — Reader helps Ford take a break from work, he gets a little excited.

You kiss up his jawline and land on his check before he decides to protest, “I have mountains of work that I have to get back too—“

“Just wait, baby,” You make your way over to his mouth, feeling that he’s about to abject again, and so you roll your hips ever so slightly on his slap.

He was half-hard from the attention, and he sucked in breath when you did it. A paper was still in one hand, as he’d refused to give in yet. 

“Y/n—“ He warned, voice now shaky, but was cut off with a disgusting kiss on his lips. 

Your hands explored his body, caressing his chest, and tracing on his arms, before settling on his pecks. For a nerd, he had a wonderful body. You always thought that. 

You broke away from the kiss, drawing a sound of disappointment from Ford, which he tried to cover up by clearing his throat.

“You deserve this, you know,” You remind, tugging at his collar to flash a little bit of skin on his neck. You needed a place to sink your teeth into.

“Don’t be absurd, i’ve barely gotten anything done today. I deserve a slap on the wrist and an order to get back to work— ah— ah—“

You sank into his neck while he was talking, and licked the spot after you were done, “You know that’s not true, Ford.”

And you were being honest. Whenever a new project caught his attention, he acted like it was the end of the world all over again. 

“You’ve done so much already, it’s coming along good,” You pluck the papers out of his hands either mild protest from Ford, and take his hand afterwards.

“Your— doing— so— good—“ You plant a kiss on every one of his fingers inbetween words, Ford blushes and looks away, muttering something about how he’s ‘not necessarily doing good, barley done anything..’ 

To make the make out session a little more to Ford taste, you take his other hand and do the same thing. This time, rolling your hips ever-so-slightly against his, now fully hard, cock.

He whimpered, and you took the opportunity to interlock lips with him again. Pushing your mouths together—with excessive spit, if you’re being honest—you continued the slight roll of your hips he seemed taken with.

At some point, your hands let go of his, and went to his hair. You deepened the kiss once more. In between breaths, you commented things like, “So good, ford,” “You’re so beautiful,” “So smart, baby.”

The entire time Ford had been whimpering into your kiss, hands now placed on the side of your hips and grasping at the fabric on your shirt. His pants had tightened noticeably during this time, and he was hoping you wouldn’t notice the precum beginning to stain the top of his pants. 

You had a way of turning his brain to mush that, surprisingly, he didn’t just allow. He craved. Your attention was positively unmatched, especially when your moving like that, or how your tongue his doing that thing he likes, or how your saying such sweet things and— 

 Oh.

Ford whined uncharacteristically and buried himself in your kiss. His hands moved you down on his lap so you wouldn’t notice what happened. 

It didn’t work. You opened your eyes with a quizzical look and tapped the crotch of his pants, then breaking away fully to look down. 

He was still hard, but it was apparently he’s finished earlier by the embarrassing stain on his slacks.Poor thing. 

“I-i’m sorry, y/n. I got—“ he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically, “—carried away. I guess, uh, I should cleanup and… Oh god, i’m sorry—“

Your face looked sympathetic, as it guided his chin back to meet your gaze, “No, no, it’s fine, Ford really. It’s cute you got so excited.”

His looked lightened at this, but you continued before he could talk. 

“In fact, why don’t we do it right this time? If you’re up for round two.”

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.

It's been a good few days since you left that Orcs house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do next.

You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots and grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.

You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton tailed critter.

When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."

Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter. Come afternoon, and you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew tightly inside and his flask, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.

Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.

You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...

You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-

The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety. You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.

Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.

Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.

You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it too runny? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?

The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered, he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?

He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an Orc and plops another spoon full onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.

After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the Orc's abode.

Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an Orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.

He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it? He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.

He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.

"Thank you."

Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.

It's a translation book.

You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.

After quite a while you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section and point it out for him.

"You're welcome."

He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks which seem a darker green than before.

After that you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?

The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?

You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.

He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.

You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.

As you walk through thick trees you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

<- Previous

[risuola]

II — JUST HUSH // Morning after the adventure with the dangerous stranger went just like you suspected - horribly, but that wasn't the worst that was waiting for you.

contents: angst, mafia!au, violence, few suggestive parts, insults, somewhat of an obsessive behaviors, reader discretion is advised — 4,3k words

a/n: officialy, this fic became a series - I wasn't expecting it to be so loved by you, readers and I can't thank you enough for the support to this story. also, there is a suggestion in my ask!box that I took a lot of inspiration for this chapter, so whoever gave the idea, thank you ❤️

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Being soft was a trait that Sukuna never actively credited himself with. He never had any urge to do so, never needed to explore that side of him and in his profession, that would most likely lead to a certain death. Leading people of mafia required him to be harsh and rough, there was no time and place for any kindness and gentleness and honestly, if anybody asked him about it just yesterday, he would say with certainty that the softness in him died long time ago. Even with women, he was never exactly sensual – he’s rather the type to take what he needs, devour what he’s hungry for and leave. Aftercare wasn’t his strong suit, for some reason inside his mind taking care of someone made him weak. That was before you.

You met not even a day ago, you asked for his help and once you got his attention, he knew he was fucked. You were just so gorgeous, so innocent and the way your glossed with tears eyes looked into his, he felt the strangest warmth inside his chest – a need of protection? Something so foreign and absurd that wouldn’t usually cross his mind. But then, he had you in his house, he had you on top of him and he had you hungry. You were smart, surely you noticed the gun pinned to his belt, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it and yet, you chose to stay with him for the night. It had to be some kind of sinister plan of yours, Sukuna wondered.

Were you put in his way to sabotage him?

He had no idea, but once the day was bright and now close to evening, you were still sleeping in his bed, with your head resting atop of his chest and one of your legs thrown over his own. You were breathing slowly and peacefully, so blissfully unaware of how dangerous it is for you to be in the same house with him, not to mention lay tangled with him below the sheets. As he smoothed over your bare shoulder with his fingers, he was thinking about how the night went. The sex was great, the best he had in years. You were playing along with him, you wanted him as much as he wanted you and as you playfully fought for dominance with him, he could have sworn it was the sexiest thing he’s ever experienced. The way you tugged his hair, pushing him nose deep into your dripping core and keeping him there until he made you cum almost made him cum as well, just from the slight dominance you had on him. Even though he allowed this to happen. He could still recall the delicious sting of your nails scratching red marks onto his back and shoulders. Every time his name slipped over your tongue, his heart seemed to skip a beat.

Just like that, you’ve got him hooked, but even so, he should have kept his word. He should have made you get dressed, maybe, out of curtesy, allow you to take a shower so that his seed wouldn’t run down your legs and mess up the leather in his car. He should have driven you home as soon as he was finished with you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you wrapped yourself around him, exhausted and already half-asleep, searching for the warmth of his body. Not when your weight on top of him felt like it was meant to lay there and especially not when your lips pressed few lazy kisses to the side of his neck before you dozed off.

You moved, rolling away from him and onto your back. You were waking up, he could tell by the sound of your quiet hums and the way your breath pattern changed from slow and calm to deep and more present. Sukuna flipped to his side, taking in the beauty of your features, now illuminated with the daylight. Your makeup kept up pretty well and even the smudged edges couldn’t take away your loveliness.

You hummed a little louder, groggily reaching up with your hands and arching your back like a cat in a long, sharp stretch. The covers slipped off your chest, exposing the pink of your nipples that now matched the many marks he had sucked onto your flesh just hours ago. Then your body relaxed, once again falling onto the mattress and a smile stretched your lips when Ryomen put his fingers against your skin. He brushed it ever so lightly along the shapes of your form, running along your collar bones, circling around the nipples and then, moving it down up and down your sternum.

“Good morning,” you purred against his lips when he reached to kiss you.

“More like good evening,” he replied, his voice quiet and calm as he moved his hand to the side of your body and pulled you flush against his chest. You hooked your leg onto his hip and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers into his hair.

“That late, huh?”

“That late.”

It was dangerous. The way you looked into his eyes, the relaxed stance your body, oblivious to the fact you were in the embrace of death personified – it was all too dangerous for Sukuna. It was too warm, too lovely, too innocent. He hated the vulnerability you subjected him to and the fact his head was filled with wishes to protect you? Fuck, it was bad. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t what he stood for in his life, it was against all of his morals. He had always been a man of few emotions, always cold and never letting anything or anyone get to him. He was calculating, feared by many and respected by few. He had risen through the ranks of the underworld by means that were often brutal and always efficient. Never, not once, he had let emotions to cloud his judgement or stand in the way of his goals. But then, you happened.

“The night…” You murmured softly, brushing the tip of your nose against his own. “I enjoyed it very much, ‘kuna—” And the nickname?!

“That’s enough,” he groaned, his tone coming in sharp and cold and it immediately brought you back to your senses. The wishful daze of bliss vanished in an instant, suddenly the tension came back to your shoulders. It was too much for Sukuna, he wanted to have a nice fuck that night and he already made a mistake by letting you stay in his bed when he was done with you. It was dangerous for you, it was dangerous for him and honestly, that lovey-dovey shit has never been his brand anyway. “Time for you to go.”

“What happened? You were so delicate just a moment ago—”

“Spare me the dumb romantic shit. I just wanted to fuck you, don’t get ahead of yourself and if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours then better get fucking going. I’ll have a driver take you back home.” He shut you down roughly and from that point, it all went quickly. You were gone in just few moments. You were gone, but the man felt no relief.

…

Few days passed by. Or was it weeks? Sukuna couldn’t tell as days began blurring their edges and all he could focus on was you. He couldn’t rid himself of the memory of you rushing in fear, just barely clothed as if he was about to hunt you down and shot you in the head if you didn’t leave his space. As if the one minute longer would cost you your life. Every time he closed his eyes or got into his bed he could see the picture of your face, the display of hurt and fright that stained the beautiful innocence in the moment he had told you to leave, discarding you as if you were a toy that he used and got bored of.

What was this feeling? He was asking himself every time he had watched you from afar. Was it guilt? He couldn’t tell, it felt foreign. For Ryomen it was an everyday thing to scare someone off, the blood of his enemies is what he’s ravishing in but you… You were far from being his enemy. And so he found himself more and more often observing you, each time being in the same place as you by accident. You made him fascinated, you made him fall into your trap. He found himself drawn to you, drawn to the light that you brought with you. He was missing you. Was that your plan all along? A revenge for how he had treated you that one night?

Your heart was pure, almost too pure for this world, Sukuna thought to himself every time he had a chance to see your everyday life. A waitress, serving tables in a small, local café, wearing the smile that he could tell was fake, and yet it charmed everyone and he couldn’t help but feel the odd sense of pride when he realized that the way your lips were curved the night you were together was utterly real. And then, he would see you on your days off, wearing cozy and comfy clothes, no makeup adorning your face as you were lost in the world of music in your headphones and whatever task you had in front of your face on the screen of your computer. You were too cute for your own good, with the little scrunch of your nose whenever you closed your tired eyes and the colorful stickers of cats and sunflowers that decorated the outside of your laptop. He’s seen you feeding some stray kittens with the salmon from your sandwich, petting their little heads as they were leaning into your touch and Sukuna would never imagine himself being jealous of the feline, but there he was, hidden behind the darkened windows in his car, wishing to be the one who’s head is in the warm and delicate embrace of your soft palm. Fleeting attraction, that’s what it had to be.

Sukuna had never thought of himself as a romantic, but there was something about you that did it for him. You were soft, gentle and vulnerable in a way that made him want to protect you, to shield you from the violent life he led. And yet, you were also strong, strong enough to face him, to challenge him and even make him laugh. It was a strange combination, and it made him feel things he had never felt before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was thinking of you more and more often. He had to be careful, though. He could tell that you were innocent, that you didn’t understand the world he lived in. If he let himself get to close, he might put you in danger and the thought of that, he couldn’t bear. He had a responsibility to keep you safe, even if it meant pushing you away. And for the first time in his life, he was scared. Scared that if he plays this whole thing wrong, he might lose you, even if he never truly had you. He was scared you’ll find out who he really was and scared of what that would do to you. He knew you noticed his gun, you had to notice it, but did you really had any idea what that meant?

For you, the time after meeting the stranger in the club was everything but easy. The hurt subsided quite rapidly, your heart wasn’t stupid enough to grow attached to a man you’d known for just few hours and deep down you knew that what you started by asking him for help had to end up somewhat similar to what happened. He wasn’t a prince from the fairy tale and you were no princess, it wasn’t a story of love, it was just sex and with that, you came to terms quite quickly. It was the fright that you couldn’t shake off your shoulders. Sukuna was a man that was keeping a gun attached to his belt, he had to be a gangster or something along these lines and considering the big, rounded and scared eyes of everyone in his proximity you’d only assume that his position in the world was at least threatening. It stayed in the back of your mind that he might have come for you, to hurt you or worse. He had shown you where he lives, after all, wasn’t that enough of a reason to erase someone from the world?

But nothing bad happened as your life went by, somehow it seemed as if it was even going smoother than it used to. The one very stubborn client, one that used to harass you every time he had a chance suddenly stopped showing in the café you work in; you even got a little raise from your boss, what despite being a bonus that you really needed, was also the most suspicious thing that happened to you lately. Your boss never gave raises. Life was good, until—

…

—you opened your eyes feeling pain. At first, you couldn’t tell what happened to you. Where were you? How did you get here? And why was everything so white?

Breathe in and out. Why did breathing hurt? And what was that beeping?

“You’re awake,” a voice made you turn your head to the side. And then, at the sight of a familiar face, it all flashed back.

It was at night, you were heading home from the meeting with your co-workers. An absurd celebration of something that you were quite certain didn’t even concerned you or your interns, but your boss required you all to be present anyways. It was tiring, to stay in the café after nearly ten hours shift, but thankfully during the event you were sitting and not actively working, so at least it was that much. Your legs hurt nonetheless, you felt fatigued after the entire week of intense shifts intertwined with classes, so when you were suddenly yanked by the wrist to the back, it wasn’t much of a surprise to you that you lost your balance.

“What do we have here, eh?” One of the men spoke and as you looked up, two faces were glaring at you with disgusting sense of superiority. “Oi, Naoya, is that the bitch you were talking about?”

“Bet it is,” the second man snorted. “She fits the description.”

Naoya? The name rang a bell so roughly and suddenly that your eyes widened in fear. It was the man you met in the club, the one that was all over you the second he met you. The one that you escaped only thanks to asking another stranger for help. But now, you couldn’t see him. Who stood above you was a man with long, silver hair and a face covered in linear scars. He was wearing a face of psychotic content, a grin so unsettling that it froze the blood inside your veins and just by the look of him you could tell he was dangerous. And then, the second one stood right next to him – his hair was pitch black and eyes probably green-ish, with little scar on the side of his lip that made itself apparent the moment you looked at him. He was insanely well-built, in a shirt that looked like one of those compression, sport-related attires.

“What do you want from me…?” You asked, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if the fear made your vocal cords clench. And you felt it, an unsettling feeling of upcoming death and it led to a chain of regret of every choice that you made that led you to this place and time. You should’ve taken a taxi. Or go a different route.

“Oh, we’re here to teach you a lesson,” the white-haired one responded as the other grinned like the devil himself. And then, they moved to the sides a little and right in the middle appeared the man that you do recognize. Naoya Zenin himself, with his face twisted in some kind of sick satisfaction as he grabbed your hair and yanked you up from the ground. Your back hit the concrete wall and his near proximity made you instantly tensed.

“I got you,” he grinned and there was violence intertwined into the expression his face bore. “I finally fucking got you.”

“Just leave me alone…” You demanded, your voice much weaker that you’d like it to be, much less constructive, not confident at all. You were frightened, to say the least, there was no way you could protect yourself from one man, but three? “Please.” As you begged, your own death flashed before your eyes. There was no way in hell you’re gonna survive this, that had to be it. The night was dark enough to cover the crime that was happening and even if there would be any bravery in you still left, nobody would help you. No one would be dumb enough to stand against the group that was about to abuse you.

“Oh, the little bitch is scared, huh?” Naoya laughed right into your face, his tongue leaving a wet trace along your throat and it filled you with enough disgust to wince. “Where’s your protector now, eh? Where’s your big daddy Sukuna?”

“What’s your problem?” The question slipped through your tongue in nothing more than a whisper. You couldn’t believe that you’re going to die because you asked a random man for help and that random man turned out to be a gang member or something. “I don’t have anything to do with him, I—”

“Of course, you don’t. I’m sure he fucked you and threw you out like a trash you are,” Zenin spit nothing but venom as his eyes were piercing holes into your skull. You could feel his hand sneaking underneath the fabric of your hoodie and your attempts on pushing him away did nothing to stop him from squeezing one of your breasts. “I bet you’re a good fuckthing tho.”

“Get your hands off of me,” you warned, your voice now rougher but still, too quiet to pose any threat. You wanted to nail his eyes out, to rip his heart out of his chest, but none of that you were able to do. Naoya laughed, once again, sounding like an asshole he was as he stepped back.

“Undress.” It was an order that he threw at you. Him, along with the other two, circled you as if predators would circle their prey and you felt small below the weight of their eyes.

“No.”

The moment you denied, the sharp pain sent you to the ground. He hit you, one of them, right in the face, with the top of his hand. The harsh contact of his knuckles and your cheekbone snatched you off your feet.

“You heard the order. Behave, slut.” The dark haired one was speaking calmly, but there was a certain coldness in his tone. The nonchalance that froze your insides.

“No…” You whispered, desperate to keep your dignity intact before you die. Immediately they showed you why hoping for it was foolish, as the series of kicks enveloped you in the cage of pain and suffering. You hid your head inside your arms, a helpless try to protect it from the heavy boots that not once held back before making contact with your fragile frame. You remember the sound of their voices, the feeling of their fists connecting again and again with your body.

“So fucking stupid,” someone laughed at you and you were far from sure and way too scared to check it yourself, but you could have sworn that somebody spit at you. “Don’t you understand? Nobody will save you now, no one cares about a bitch like you. I’d say it last time. Undress.”

“N-no…”, you sniffled, hugging your head tightly as if bracing yourself for another salve of hurt. But it didn’t come, no hit was aimed at your curled on the ground body. Instead, you heard the pained whines from not too far away, you heard the sounds of a battle and was it the sound of bones being broken? You couldn’t tell, it felt surreal, was that it? Was that how you’re gonna die? Because surely no one in their right mind would step into action, risking being killed themselves for you.

“Hey, I’ll take you to the hospital,” that voice. You knew that. You heard it for such a short time in your life and yet you’d recognize it everywhere. The low, slightly husky tone that you remembered as one that was enough to turn you on just by the sound of it. Now it was accompanying the very gentle arms that scooped you off the floor. Then, you dared to open your eyes.

…

“Ryomen?” Your voice felt weak, your throat hoarse from the dryness but that didn’t stop you from speaking. The more information got into your brain, the easier it got to understand what was the place you woke up in.

A hospital. You woke up in the hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and machines. Your body bruised and battered, ached with each breath you tried to take. Your head was still foggy and your muscles stiff, you had a pounding headache that only got worse as the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You were lucky. So incredibly lucky to be alive. And yet again, Sukuna saved you. Then you probably passed out.

“You’re awake,” he sounded soft. How odd. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… why are you here?”

“I had to check if you’re alright. And also I’m gonna take you home, but needed to wait until you’re awake and doctors can give you the last checkup.” He explained it matter-of-factly and it only got you more confused than you were just a second ago.

“That… doesn’t exactly answer my question…?”

“It will do for now. I’ll bring the doctor.”

Sukuna left the room sooner than you had a chance to ask anything else. He felt as if the weight was taken off his shoulders the very second you opened your eyes and recognized him. The last hours were an agony, he stayed near your bed for the entire time and though there was nothing that was threatening your life anymore, he couldn’t help but feel so awfully guilty. The foreign feeling of it made him realize that he was fucked up good, you had poisoned him with emotions that he already forgot about, the useless display of something that he considered a weakness for the better of his life. As he was watching your fragile frame, though covered with white, clean sheets he felt the rage boiling inside his veins because he knew. He saw the damage on your body, the bruises that painted your soft skin in dark, purple-ish blotches, the patch of scratches on your side – in place where your naked hip met the ground. And your cheek… there still was a red spot on top of your cheekbone, the one Sukuna assumed was also a result of a hit and it angered him even more because if he has noticed it before, he would for sure kill those imitations of a men and not only leave them in a mush.

Sukuna felt a certain sense of responsibility due to what happened to you. It wasn’t your fault, per se, that when you were looking for help in that club when you first met him, you had the misfortune to pick a persona like him and frankly, if Sukuna would know back then that Naoya will come for you later to get his revenge, he would kill him right then and there. The more he thought about it, the more he was realizing that he would kill anyone if it was to keep you safe.

“Ready to go home?” Ryomen asked, assisting you in pulling your bruised arms through the sleeves of a hoodie he had brought you. A clean one, way too big on your frame but comfortable at that, lined with plush so that it won’t irritate your injured skin.

“I think so…?” Your reply was confused, it was unsure and still slightly underlined with fear. There was a reason to it, last time you saw the man that was now trying to help you, he threatened to rid you of your head. “Ryomen, I don’t understand—”

“Just hush,” he cut you, gently swooping you off the edge of the bed and you settled in the safety of his muscular arms, leaning your head against his shoulder, next to his neck. “I was told you still should rest so let me take you home. Alright? Alright.”

There was no point in arguing, you couldn’t do much whilst in his arms even if you tried and it was naïve, you thought, but there was a sense of protection tied tightly to the way he was keeping you close. You felt as if any danger couldn’t reach you when his hands were wrapped around you. He was dangerous, that much you knew, and yet there was a gentleness in a way he was holding you near his chest, near the place where his heart beats in a regular, calm rhythm. Fact is, you didn’t want to run away from him, though you should. And so, you leaned into him, nuzzling your head into the dip between his neck and shoulder and as you breathed in his scent, the musky note of his cologne and tobacco, you felt at ease.

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese

[p0orbaby]

Hang Me Up To Dry

summary: you hate leah, until you don’t

warnings: SMUT 18+, public sex, enemies to lovers

a/n: your request served hot and fresh

word count: 1.1k

-

You don’t even know how you got here. By “here,” you mean pressed up against a sticky wall in a toilet cubicle that smells like bleach and broken dreams, with Leah Williamson of all people practically plastered against you. You’d laugh at the absurdity of it all if you weren’t too busy trying not to melt into a puddle right here on the grimy floor. God knows what’s touched these tiles. Not that Leah seems to care, but Leah’s the type to forget that people exist below her eye level, anyway.

And to think, just an hour ago, you were arguing over some nonsense at the bar. Something about who was better at football—an argument so ridiculous it could’ve only been fueled by pints and pettiness. Leah, who practically floats above mere mortals in every sense of the word, was mocking you, a smirk playing at her lips. You’d retorted with something biting, you’re sure of it, but the details are blurry around the edges. There were probably middle fingers involved. Both of you are professionals at this—trading insults like it’s a sport, one you’ve both been playing for years.

And now, well, now she’s using that very same mouth—sharp and smirking and smug—to press messy kisses down your neck while her hands roam up under your shirt. You wish you could say it’s the booze that got you into this mess, but if you’re honest, it’s probably more the fact that underneath all that mutual disdain, you’ve both been wanting this for a long time. You’d just never admit it in the cold light of day. So it’s taken a bit of sambuca-induced recklessness for the truth to rear its horny head.

Her lips find the spot just below your ear, and you gasp because you’re pretty sure this is supposed to be about one-upping each other, not about how good it feels when she bites down, teeth sinking into sensitive flesh. Not about how her knee slips between your thighs like it belongs there.

“Still think you’re better than me?” she mutters against your skin, breath hot and ticklish. There’s that competitive streak—some things never change, even when she’s got you pressed against a toilet in some bar that’s about three years overdue for a health inspection.

“Better at what?” you manage to say, though it comes out more like a breathless gasp. Because, seriously, what are you even talking about anymore? Football? Insults? Definitely not bar toilets, because Leah’s winning that one by a landslide right now.

She laughs, and it vibrates through you, straight down to the point where her thigh is pressed against your core. “Everything”

You roll your eyes, or you would if they weren’t already half-lidded with a combination of alcohol and arousal. “Keep telling yourself that”

Her hands are everywhere at once—tugging at the hem of your top, sliding over your hips, slipping under the waistband of your jeans. And despite the location, the situation, the everything, you can’t bring yourself to care. In fact, you’re pretty sure if Leah doesn’t do something soon, you might actually lose what’s left of your mind. But you’re not about to tell her that.

No, you’ve still got some semblance of dignity left. You’re hanging on to it with both hands, gripping it as tightly as you’re now gripping Leah’s shoulders when she slides her hand between your legs and presses down just right. The sound you make is somewhere between a groan and a curse, and Leah smirks against your neck.

“Tell me I’m better,” she whispers, fingers moving in a way that makes it very difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

You bite back the noise threatening to escape and manage a weak, “Not a chance”

“Stubborn,” she mutters, and then her hand is in your underwear, and that’s it—game over. She’s got you, and you both know it. Her fingers slide over slick skin, teasing, testing, and you almost want to strangle her for how slow she’s going. Almost. But then she presses down, circles just right, and your head falls back against the wall with a thud.

Leah laughs again, low and almost affectionate, like she’s won some sort of game that only she was playing. “Thought so”

“Shut up,” you manage to gasp out, and it’s the last coherent thing you say because Leah’s fingers find a rhythm that has you forgetting how to speak altogether. She’s still smirking against your neck, probably thinking about how she’s got you right where she wants you, how she’s the one in control.

And sure, you’ll let her think that. For now. Because when she slides two fingers inside you, curling them just so, and you feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, you’re pretty sure she deserves to feel like she’s on top. Quite literally, as it turns out.

The orgasm builds slow, too slow, and Leah’s dragging it out on purpose. You know she is. She’s enjoying this way too much, the way you’re practically writhing against her, the way your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps. She’s got that competitive streak a mile wide, and this is just another game to her.

But when she finally, finally gives you what you need—when her fingers speed up, when her thumb presses right, there, and when she bites down on your neck again—that’s when you break. That’s when you shatter, clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping you upright in this filthy, disgusting toilet.

It’s a long moment before you can breathe again, and even longer before you can speak. Leah’s still pressed against you, fingers still inside you, and she’s got that look on her face—smug, self-satisfied, like she’s just won the World Cup.

You manage to open your mouth, though your voice is rough and shaky. “Still a shit footballer,” you say, because you’re nothing if not consistent.

She laughs, a real one this time, not the sharp, biting one she usually throws your way. “Better than you, though”

You don’t bother arguing. Not because she’s right, but because you’re too busy trying to remember how to stand on your own two feet. Also because you’re half-sure if you say anything else, she’ll just drag you back into that cycle of insults and arousal, and you’re not sure you can survive another round.

So you settle for a weak, “Shut up,” and Leah grins like she’s just won the lottery.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, pulling her hand out of your jeans and wiping it on the back of your shirt like the classy lady she is. “Before the smell of this place kills what’s left of my brain cells”

You snort, pushing her away as you straighten your clothes. “Too late for that”

But you follow her out of the cubicle anyway, because despite everything—despite the insults, the competition, the utter ridiculousness of the situation—you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, there’s something to this whole enemies-to-lovers cliché. Or at the very least, enemies-to-shagging-in-gross-bathrooms.

[tmwcs]

Baby Fever

Warnings: breeding kink, rough smut implied, smut-ish stuff, some minor choking, smut talk (breeding smut talk...if yk...yk). MDNI this is only for the grownups (18+).

Authors note: this drabble is canon to the HHP storyline > : ) I had this in mind for a few days and wanted to quickly draft it for yall to hold you guys off until the treat comes out this weekend 😉

What a gorgeous morning it was; the sun beaming brightly and the fresh, crisp Spring air filled with the chirping of birds, and the newborn flowers blooming in greeting. You woke up alone, figuring Heeseung was downstairs in the kitchen, considering the minor commotion you overheard from the bedroom. You got up and figured that on the first day of Spring, what better way to greet your lover than to wear the dress that he absolutely loved seeing you in. It was a purple mini floral, rather form fitting despite the subtle empire waist line, which gently showed a hint of your curves. The front had a stringed, lace front that tied the scoop neck line together, cradling your breasts and proposing the faint curves of your cleavage. It was both sexy, and pretty, especially when paired with sheer, black, thigh-high stockings, edged with a beautifully elegant damask pattern that subtly hid beneath the hem of your short dress. Your hair was left freely down, since that was the way he always preferred you wore it. He loved your hair.

Every single night, he would run his fingers through your strands, rubbing them together to savor the silkiness of the texture. He never cared to use a brush because it took away the pleasure of feeling that softness of your locks. The way he would drape the length of your strands over his knuckles and rub it against his cheek, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo, which always ended with him leaning in to suck on the back of your neck. If anyone should think that his behavior with your hair is absurd, you wonder what they would think when he looks into your eyes, or take his time to feel your skin...guess that will be saved for another story.

After conducting your morning hygiene, you walk down the stairs. Gripping on the ball tip of the large banister, you playfully swung your way around to face the open view of the kitchen and dining area, immediately making eye contact with Heeseung.

He smiles as he stands on the opposite end of the large kitchen island, with his palms plastered on the surface top and leaned over just slightly over a mug, more than likely containing his favorite coffee drink. He was dressed all in black, a black fitted tee, lightly tucked in black fashionable fitted cargo pants, with a black hat. The lines located at the corner of his lips was all that the bill of his headpiece would allow you to see as he smirks upon seeing you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, y/n! It's so good to see you."

Shocked by the voice from the side, you turn to view over shoulder and saw Steve, one of the frat tenants that lived with Heeseung and the other roommates.

"Hi Steve. When did you come back from vacation?" you ask with a delicate smile as you greet him, when a young woman appears from behind him with a small bundle locked in her arms. "I got back last night, it was so late and I didn't want to wake anyone so I stayed at a hotel. But, let me introduce my sister, she just had a baby two months ago and was in town so I decided to bring her over to meet everyone."

You smile gleefully as you greeted Steve's sister. "Oh nice to meet you." you delicately spoke as she does the same. "It's nice to meet you, your y/n, right? Steve was just introducing me to Ethan and mentioned you, it's so good to meet you."

Your peripherals caught on to Heeseung remaining stagnant in his stance, eyeballing you, Steve, and his sister, Lauren. He takes a sip out of his cup, his eyes never breaking away from you.

"How far along in college are you?" Lauren asks, in which you respond sweetly as you both continue talking about college life. Heeseung remained as he always did when around other people, a bit standoffish and quiet, glaring over and keeping an eye on you. At least he was being a bit more pleasant since he knew Steve, being roommates under the same roof for years now. It was typical, everyone, including the frat tenants, all knew that Heeseung "Ethan" became a walking malice since he began dating you, and it was evident that he cared for no one or anything other than you...you wonder what they would think if they ever knew that there indeed, was an "Ethan" entity that was more than just an english version of his birth name.

"Would you like to hold the baby?" Lauren gains your attention back as she presents her bundle of joy. "Oh...um sure." Cradling the small child, you held him tightly as you cupped him against your bosom. "Wow, you're so good with him." she remarks surprisingly as she straightens her dress and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

That was to be expected. With all the time spent babysitting for your neighbors while in high school, you were quite used to holding and handling a newborn baby. You sat down on the dining chair and laid the baby against your chest, gently patting and rubbing his back, all the while he drifted off with his head nestled against the crevice of your cleavage.

"Looks like you're ready to be a mom." Steve joked aloud, meanwhile Heeseung kept sipping on his coffee, occasionally eyeing you from the corner of his sharp gaze.

"Noooo." you chuckled out. "I used to babysit for my neighbors, they had a baby that I would look after often." You explained, keeping eye contact on the baby's soft head as you gently palmed the back of it, rubbing the tip of your nose against it.

After some time went by, Steve and Lauren departed to spend a day in the old town, leaving you and Heeseung alone in the frat house. With all the other tenants away to enjoy the ongoing Spring festivals, the house was completely empty, and would be that way for the entire day.

"Can we go out for a walk?" you ask as Steve and Lauren walked out the door. Heeseung gently sets down his cup and issues a subtle nod. "Okay, I'm going to get my phone." you smiled out as you walked up the stairs, with him slowly following close by. Guess he needed to get something from upstairs as well.

He opens the door for you, a traditional habit, and allows you to walk in first. Halfway in the room, you barely caught your breath as you felt a sudden shift in motion with a firm lock around your waist. Nearly levitating you from off the ground, Heeseung swooped, and flung you on his bed, following suit and hovering over your body as you turn to face him. You stutter out a gasp from shock as your hair lays in a massive spread, with a few delicate strands across your face. There, you were met face to face with the devil.

His eyes dark, and his smirk was devious, but you could tell by the minor shine in his iris, he didn't swap over to his other side. The bill of his hat kept the shadow to grace over his face as he stares down. With one hand gripping your shoulder, the other reaches up and starts to pull the string tie at the front of your dress. He pulls, dreadfully slow as you feel the flap of your scoop neckline coming undone; one by one, he pulls each string until the opening was completely loosened. Your nipples peek from beneath the expanded laced string as your dress holds its remaining form. The hem was rolled slightly up from the swing of his strength when he threw you on the bed, exposing those thigh high stockings in full. Chuckling deeply, he pulls the last string on your dress as he spoke out in a shallow tone. "Does my girl want to be a mommy?"

You shook your head subtly. You were just being helpful, there was no way you thought about having children, besides, it was far too early considering you were still in your first year of college, not to mention you were still on birth control.

"N-no..."

"Mm...I think you do." he responds in an antagonizing manner and gently shifts the pieces of hair away from your face. He props himself steady with his palm plastered on your collarbone, and raising his body to rests on his knee caps. There, he takes advantage of your already spread thighs, and reaches in under your dress to scoot your lace panties off to the side. Once you were completely exposed to the cool air, he reaches in and with flickering fingertips, he tickles the sensitive flesh in between your plush folds. You gasp and moan out soft giggles, as did he. With a dark chuckle and biting down his lip, he remains propped to display the full sight of his abdominal region, where you admired the view of his hand reaching down, gently unzipping his black trousers, and his strong veiny hands fishing out the massive and swollen muscle that caused you to gasp at the mere sight of it. You reached up, grabbing onto his forearm as he remained on your collarbone, feeling his thumb swiping over the contours of the bone. Anticipating for what he was going to do, you felt yourself riddling with a burning sense of desire and passion.

You watched as the girth of his shaft and the bulbous tip disappear under the material of your dress as he leans in, and feeds it through, piercing your fleshy barrier until it finally makes its way in. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin, "no more taking birth control."

"Uh...uh huh...."

"I wanna hear you say it."

"I-I'll get....get off it..."

"Let me take care of you....let me fuck you."

"Mm...mmhmm..."

He raises his form and once more, he props himself up by the extension of his forearm and palm planted beside your head on the bedspread. With his strong hand, he raises it as the tips of his fingers drag along your skin. Gently, with his fingers gracefully wrapping around your throat, he gives a faint squeeze, just enough to make you gasp a separate moan. With a dark and devilishly handsome smile, he gleams under the shadow of his hat; there it was...that eerie and rather handsome smile of malice and passion formulates on that face of his.

"Ready?"

You nod somewhat hesitantly. Bracing for intense pleasure, you knew all too well what was about to come, especially when feeling the throbbing sense of his tip as it barely lies inside you. "Y-yes...yes daddy..." you whispered, grabbing hold of his wrist as you prepare for a momentum that is unlike anything this world could replicate.

"Yeah?...come here, let’s do this, mommy."

> : )

[keigosdear]

think of this as like… slightly smutty fluff? it’s more like fluff with a little bit of smut than fluffy smut. when I thought this up at 2 am I had originally pictured atsumu, but then I was like WAIT. this is so suna. so enjoy <3

fem!reader, reader has an absurd amount of hickeys. nipple play, verbal teasing, reader really likes marks… allusions to previous and future sex. MDNI.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

as soon as you see your reflection in the mirror, you gasp and bring a hand up to your neck.

the very same neck that’s absolutely covered with marks. how did he even sneak that many in without you noticing?

any other day you’d be admiring how pretty they are and reminiscing on how you got them in the first place, but you’re meeting friends for lunch in two hours.

so instead you march back into the bedroom and start whacking your fiancé, who’s still sleeping peacefully, with a pillow.

“ow! hey, babe, what the fuck-“ he tries to defend himself by putting his arms up.

“I said no marks!” you hiss, getting one final hit in before you let him sit up.

he takes one look at your neck and snickers. “damn, babe, did you try the whisk already?”

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “this isn’t funny, rin! I told you not to mark me up last night, but you made me look like overripe fruit! a whisk won’t fix this!”

rin gets out of bed and slowly starts walking you back against the wall as you rant. you can feel your resolve dissipating and there’s little you can do to stop it once your back hits the wall. “I mean what even are you, a vampire?”

he laughs for real this time and leans in a bit closer. “maybe. do they hurt? let me kiss them better, baby…” he starts trailing gentle, innocent kisses along your jaw before moving lower.

“ohhh no,” you start, pushing at his shoulders when he reaches the first mark. “you and your lips aren’t allowed anywhere near my neck for the next three to five business days,” you manage to get out in between your own laughter bubbling up.

suna gives you a look that could only mean trouble. “aw, but you love my lips on your neck,” he says and then smirks. “clearly.”

you roll your eyes. “rules are rules, you should’ve thought about the consequences beforehand.”

both of you know you won’t last that long before he’s back to his usual antics, but he decides to humor you for now.

“fine,” he sighs, picking you up and carrying you back to bed, ignoring your protests. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”

you nod. “yes you did.”

“and I’m very sorry, baby.”

“no you’re not.”

“no I’m not,” he agrees.

you sigh. “also you have to buy me a new tube of concealer, I’m gonna be out once I’m done trying to cover all this up.”

he frowns a little. “hm, fine, but I hate it when you cover these up…” he hums. “suppose it can’t be helped this time.”

your breath hitches when he toys with the neckline of your tank top. “guess I’ll just need to start leaving marks in more hidden areas,” he murmurs to himself, as though he’s entranced by your chest. “you don’t mind, right?”

your eyes widen. of course you don’t mind- he’s realized over the years just how much you enjoy it when he leaves marks, and he’s gotten really good at using it to his advantage.

he leans down to kiss the base of your throat and you gasp. he starts a trail from there to the valley of your breasts.

“this area seems like a good place to start…” he shifts your top so that it’s pulled up over your chest. your nipples harden at the cool air and he immediately latches on to one of them.

you gasp and instinctively tangle one of your hands in his hair. “rin,” you moan, unable to stop the noise from escaping. “we can’t, I have to leave soon.”

he doesn’t stop his tongue from rolling over the hardened bud for even a second and you wonder if he even heard you.

if you’re late to another hang out, your friends would never let you hear the end of it.

but honestly, once he lifts his hand to start pinching at your other nipple, your head is tossed back along with your worries. “rin, please…”

the whiny tone of your voice entices him to pull back with a pop! and look up at you with a smug expression. “please what?”

you huff in frustration and stare up at the ceiling, unwilling to stare into his eyes. “please…” you grit out.

he rests his chin on your sternum and lazily traces circles over one bud with his index finger. “take your time baby, I’ve got all day.”

you bite your lip to force down any noises that want to break free and try to use your words. you know he knows what you want, and he knows you have trouble asking for things.

you assume this is his revenge for being woken up by your pillow attack. asshole.

“rin please, I want more…”

suna grins and (thankfully) doesn’t torture you any longer. he bites down onto one of the meatier parts of your supple breast and soothes it with his tongue.

“good girl,” his tone is completely patronizing and only serves to tug at the ribbon holding what’s left of your obstinacy together and deal the final blow.

he has you right where he wants you- a needy mess underneath him.

he trails his hand down to your sleep shorts and toys with the waistband. “let’s see how wet you are from just a little bit of teasing, hm?”

you pull your shorts down when he shoots you an expectant look and you bite your lip when the cool air hits your folds.

two lithe fingers drag up your slit, gathering your juices, and tap your clit. a whimper leaves your lips and he licks his fingers clean with a smile. “you taste amazing, baby…”

he moves down your body slowly, leaving kisses and gentle nibbles along your tummy until he’s slotted in between your thighs.

he leans his cheek on top of one and looks up at you with faux sympathy. “sorry babe, looks like you’re gonna be late again.”

if your mind wasn’t so muddled with lust, you’d roll your eyes and tell him to get on with it, maybe even call him a dick for pushing back your plans. instead you card a hand through his hair and give him your best set of puppy dog eyes.

“please, rin, hurry up,” your voice is barely a whisper, but he hears you and doesn’t waste any more time.

you’re sure the amount of shit you’ll get from your friends later will be well worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed!!

@nyctophilicroses @makkir0ll here it is!!

[hairyjocktf]

Fire in the Forest

Adam sighed deeply as he unlocked the door to his apartment. The familiar scent of old laundry and takeout boxes washed over him as the door swung open. He slid his bag off his shoulder onto the floor and slumped onto the couch. Today had been one of the worst days of his life, to put it mildly. The company he’d slaved away for since graduating a few years ago had unexpectedly let him go as part of cost cutting measures. Every late night he’d spent at the office suddenly hit him as a waste, his hard work had never mattered to those up top. Adding insult to injury was his paltry severance package; with his rent it’d barely last two weeks. He wouldn’t even have time to breathe before having to find a new job.

Before he knew it he’d passed out sitting on the couch, waking up hours later to a dark sky out the window. Shit, he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes before forcing his body up and off the couch. He tossed a frozen meal into the microwave before setting his laptop up on the table. With the microwave humming in the background he started visiting websites of companies he knew of in the same sphere. Career page after career page yielded no luck. He grabbed his food from the beeping microwave and continued to solemnly scroll through page after page of indeed listings, applying to every one he could convince himself he was qualified for. Soon enough it was two in the morning, and Adam decided to call it quits. He cleaned up his now very cold dinner and went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and clean up for bed. His red hair glowed under the ceiling light, looking almost like fire. It was one of his more attractive qualities, he thought to himself, looking at his skinny frame and ghostly skin. He flipped off the lights and hopped into bed.

It was around ten the next morning that Adam finally crawled out of bed. He grabbed his phone off the desk and quickly checked for any job notifications. There was only one, and not one he recognized. It was a recruitment email from a logging company, Cascade Lumber. He skimmed over the email, they’d “found” his profile online and thought he’d be a good fit for a lumberjack role? That was ridiculous, he thought, and closed out of his email. Frustrated at no actual leads, he decided to take a walk for the morning and get back to searching that afternoon. While out trying to enjoy the rare sunny day, that email stuck in his mind. Really? A lumberjack? It was absurd, insulting almost. He was a software developer, not some country laborer. He got back to his apartment and threw himself back into the search, sending out applications one after another. The next day was much of the same, desperately trying to find more niche positions that might be hiring. Still no responses, though. Each day he became a little more stressed, a little more frantic in his search. How had no one responded yet? He had plenty of qualifications and experience, he didn’t understand the problem.

Two weeks had passed and Adam was against a wall. His severance cash was nearly dried up, and still nothing had come through, not even an interview. Even his connections had fallen through. With the bills starting to pile up on the counter, he was out of options. That was when he remembered the email from weeks before. At this point it couldn’t hurt to respond, maybe they had a tech position he could weasel into. He wrote a short response and sent it off. Just minutes later, as Adam was in the middle of making lunch, his phone buzzed. They’d responded already, inviting him out to their office. The address was nearly an hour out west, but what choice did he have?

The next morning he was on his way out of the city, high rises giving way to fields and then forest. Dense groves alternated with barren patches of recently logged areas, letting sunlight down to the road. He pulled down a narrow road and a few minutes later parked in front of a modest building tucked into the trees. His car was surrounded by huge trucks filled to the brim with tree trunks, as well as some large machinery he couldn’t identify. Upon walking inside he was greeted with a dim room full of old logging gear. He heard the footsteps of someone large approaching, before a huge man descended the stairs to greet him. He looked enormous in this small room, almost scraping the ceiling, and his frame was equally wide. His open shirt revealed a forest of hair on his chest, and his beard was incredibly thick. Adam suddenly felt very intimidated, despite the large smile on the man’s face.

“Hey there! You must be Adam, so glad you took us up on visiting. We really think you’d be a great asset on the team. Whoa! I’m getting ahead of myself, the name’s Derek,” he reached out his absolute paw of a hand. With a shake Derek immediately began touring Adam around the office. Derek was overwhelming with his enthusiasm, but also in his assumption that Adam had agreed to start working there. He didn’t have another option, but they didn’t know that. They got into Derek’s truck and he drove off into the forest towards a work site. The majority of the information Derek was spitting out went in one ear and out the other, but Adam tried to look as engaged as he could. The truck came to a screeching halt in an area they were currently clearing. The sound of chainsaws was like nails on a chalkboard to Adam as they stepped out of the truck. In the distance he saw machinery whirring away cutting trees, as well as men harnessed up with saws. Derek went into more detail about working in an active logging site, the dangers and safety measures. Adam was instead busy looking at the men working nearby. They had on hard hats and bright orange vests overtop thick jackets or flannels. They all looked big and burly, like they’d been lifting for years. Adam wasn’t sure how in Derek’s mind he would be able to do anything here.

“...and I think that just about covers most of it. Oh! And the salary is $55k per year, with annual raises and benefits. We try to do right by our guys here,” Derek smiled at Adam. That number had finally gotten his attention. Nothing close to his old job, but better than zero. In a decision that probably warranted some more thought, Adam opened his mouth.

“Great, when do I start?”

Derek’s smile doubled in size and he slapped Adam on the back. “That’s my man, let’s get you all set up then while you’re out here,” he said. They both got back into Derek’s truck and drove back to the office. Inside Adam was handed the same hat and vest he saw the men at the site wearing.

“Now that’s just the basics, you’ll probably want some heavy clothing while on the job, and get yourself some good boots while you’re at it,” he chuckled, looking down at Adam’s aging vans shoes. Adam thanked him and walked back to his car. Still unsure of this whole venture, Adam departed. On the way back he stopped at some workwear stores, looking for boots and clothes to fit the job. Having no idea what he actually needed, he just looked for the closest things to what he remembered the guys there wearing. Close enough, right?

Back at his apartment he cautiously tried on all the clothing he’d just gotten. To his surprise, it all fit fairly well, despite his body being much smaller than most of the guys out there. His thin frame looked bulkier under a thick layer of protective and warm clothing. He almost… liked how it looked? Adam quickly put that thought out of his head and stripped off the gear. The sun was already dipping below the horizon and he had to be out there early in the morning from now on. 

The alarm came even sooner than he thought. Adam rolled out of bed at four in the morning, and was out the door as soon as he could get himself together. The air was chilly outside, with not even a hint of the sunrise yet in the darkness. He drove straight to the site Derek had assigned him to, finding a group of men chatting together while donning their equipment. Adam introduced himself, and began putting on his own assigned gear. The day flew by as several other guys instructed Adam on how things worked. He was more keen to pay attention to everything this time, listening intently to each burly man who showed him how to use a chainsaw. By the end of the day he’d felled a few trees and learned the basics of the larger machinery the team used. Despite it being cool all day, Adam was sweating up a storm in his thick coat. Maybe he’d overestimated how much layering was needed. The drive home felt shorter than it had the day before, but Adam was frustrated at a recurring itch on his jaw, it just kept coming back no matter how much he scratched at it.

The next few days were much of the same, Adam’s time was highly supervised while he was learning, but he was surprised at how easily he took to it. His original plan of finding a tech position to switch to had already been forgotten. The other lumberjacks seemed to like Adam as well, despite his scrawny stature. His red hair made him easy to point out, even though it was usually covered by a hard hat. The itch on his face reared its head a few more times, as Adam’s baby smooth face was slowly overtaken by a light red stubble. Each day it would poke out just a hair more, reaching out from his chin towards his sideburns. Adam failed to notice this, just as he was blind to the muscle his skinny body had started to put on. In just a week he’d gained serious definition, he had slight pecs and shoulders, and his arms looked like he’d been working out for years. Must be the intensity of the job, he thought to himself when one of his old t-shirts no longer fit. As the days passed, his stubble connected across his face, and some wispy hairs poked out of his growing pecs. Barely noticeable, but there nonetheless.

The weeks continued to pass as Adam got settled into his position. He started to feel like a real lumberjack as trees fell by his hand day by day. He began to fit in more with the other men as well. His bright red stubble thickened. Hairs that were barely more than peach fuzz grew thick and pushed out into a true short beard. The wisps on his chest likewise grew thicker, curlier, as more pressed out of his pecs. The red hairs grew and wove together until the hairy coating could no longer be ignored. His chest hair was normally kept beneath multiple layers, until one of his fellow loggers spotted the rug while he was changing. The crew gave him their old flannels and forced him to wear them and let some of the fiery red hair poke out. They all loved it, he was looking like them with their thick beards and hairy chests. The tiny new hire was quickly vanishing beneath muscle and fur, as the hairs on his chest spread downwards over his tight stomach.

Adam began noticing that each day he would leave work absolutely soaked in sweat. His layers just absorbed it leaving him a sopping mess as the job was so labor intensive. It didn’t bother him, he just bought more work clothes to cycle through, but he was oblivious to the other effects it was having. Adam’s body, steeping in sweat all day, was producing more and more. Not only that, his previously bare pits began sprouting fine red hairs. At first it was just a few thin hairs poking out, but as they were soaked in sweat they grew thicker. More hairs popped out of the damp pit, filling in rapidly. His once smooth pits were growing into a dense jungle of hair, the hairs thick and red, tangling together into a tuft that trapped even more sweat and stench. They spread out of the confines of his pit, connecting with the pelt on his chest and beginning to pop out across his upper arms. He would dig his fingers into his furry pits to scratch, the hair growing in itching like mad. Each day more hairs pushed out, more sweat was trapped, and the more he smelled like the other men around him.

As the weeks rolled on, Adam kept having to buy new clothes between sweat stains and simply outgrowing them. His body had put on a lot of size since starting, his thin frame bulking out as he grew taller and wider. The weather was growing colder, and the added layers were hiding his growing size, as well as his growing fur. The hair from his pits was continuing its march, with wiry hair cropping up across his shoulders, triceps, and was especially dense on his forearms. Red wispy hairs sprouted all over his upper body, filling in gaps and growing into a thick ginger rug. His body was growing at a rapid rate, biceps filling out and pecs becoming real pillows, but it wasn’t all muscle. His size was softened by a healthy layer of fat that only encouraged more hair to sprout. His already dense chest hair thickened further, red hairs swirling around his nipples and growing longer and curlier. The chest fur grew up and over his shoulders, creating a seamless carpet from his hands through his torso. Even his back was beginning to show signs, as light red fuzz was gathering around his shoulder blades and above his waistline. Hair sprouted out of his shirt collars and poked from his sleeves; even under his layers of clothes his coworkers knew Adam was hiding some impressive fur.

What they couldn’t see was below Adam’s waistline. The fur coat from his stomach slowly inched downwards, the wispy hairs occupying his groin quickly overrun with a thick red bush. The hairs pushed out from the base of his cock, thick and curly they sprouted and tangled together as the bush expanded. The hairs climbed up and connected with the rug on his stomach, and out to his thighs before racing down his thick legs. His pubes grew denser into a thick triangle of red hair, his cock growing larger to not be hidden beneath the jungle. Adam hardly noticed as the bulge in his jeans grew day by day, sweat soaking the area as it developed a thick musk that was barely contained by his underwear. He had to buy larger sizes after his balls swelled considerably, dropping lower than before and sprouting with their own rug of red hair. The hairs spread down over his taint before blossoming in his ass crack, a thick fiery explosion of fur pushing out as the hairs grew like weeds over his large cheeks. His legs grew stockier to support his growing body as the hairs continued their march from the thick nest of pubes. His thighs were coated before it spread to his calves. His feet stretched and ached as they grew multiple sizes in just a few weeks, before too being buried beneath a thick mat of red hair.

Winter finally began showing its ugly face, and Adam’s job grew rougher daily as temperatures plummeted up in the mountains. His body adapted, packing on considerable bulk. Gone was his thin, twinky frame, replaced now by a thick and strong body, built for strength and warmth. His thick muscular frame was coated in a layer of fat to insulate him, and his belly seemed to just keep growing. The fur coat he’d been developing only continued to come in. The red hairs grew thicker and denser every day, pushing against his clothing. His fiery red beard, which had been well kept until now began erupting from his face with a fury. Thick hairs curled over his upper lip as the hairs on his cheeks pushed out inch after inch. More hairs filled in between as the coating crawled higher on his cheeks. It surged down his neck and blended with the thick chest hair. He looked wild, but it kept his face warm from the frigid winds. He even got complimented on it, earning a reputation as a real mountain man from his fellow lumberjacks. Adam had fully adapted to his job, there was no going back. He was now a hairy, hefty lumberjack with a fur coat to rival an animal’s. He’d grown to be one of the best in the crew, each tree felled returning as a hair in his pelt.

[supernotnatural2005]

The Great Sam Winchester C*ck Block!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and you have been desperate for some much needed alone time. However, a certain Winchester keeps getting in the way.

Word Count: 4106

Warnings: Smut! 18+ only! Fluff, Sam is a massive c*ck block (yes that’s a warning!)

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything. Life has been wild. But i miss writing so much and have a few WIP. This just happens to be the one i’ve finished! 😅 Just something fun and spicy. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!

My Masterlist

You sighed, head thrown back against the leather seat, back arched and legs spread wide as Dean scissored two of his thick fingers inside of you.

Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and suckled at the spot behind your ear, which only added to the desperate throb of the walls of your pussy.

Your skin flushed and breathing laboured as he expertly rubbed at that spongey spot inside you, making you gasp and tense at the thrum of pleasure, tingling from the tops of your ears down to the tips of your toes.

The soft praises of; “you’re so wet”, “so beautiful” and “come for me baby”, followed by the lewd sounds of your dripping core against the harsh thrust of his digits, echoed in the small confinements of Baby’s backseat. Resulting in an ecstasy like state of desperation to reach your peak for him.

Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, the material covering his skin all but assaulted by your vice-like grip, as he brought you closer and closer to your impending crash.

You opened your eyes, gaze heated and glazed as you met fiery green orbs, drinking in your wrecked state with satisfaction and pride.

With his thumb now rubbing against your clit, you could feel your body begin to tense. The coil in your lower belly wound tight, ready to just about snap, when something over his shoulder caught your attention.

“Sam!” You gasped in an attempt to warn him. Though in your current state, it came out as more of a gasp of unmeant pleasure. But it had Dean’s fingers stilling instantly, drowning the flame he’d brought to life inside of you.

“What?” The shock was evident in his voice and the same eyes that had been filled with lust just moments ago, now laced with hurt at your outburst of his brother’s name. Made ten times worse at the fact it was whilst he was fingering you into oblivion.

Dread filled you at his harshly retracted fingers and you scrambled to explain before another fire brewed in his eyes, but this time with intent to burn rather than pleasure.

“Oh God, no baby! Sam is coming.” You guided his head in the direction of the other end on the motel’s parking lot, to where Sam was indeed approaching.

Relief flooded him like a cold drink of water quenching one’s thirst in a hot desert. His rapidly beating heart simmered somewhat at the realisation and he welcomed the soothing hand you ran through his short strands as he dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

You felt the rumble of his chuckle before you heard it, finding yourself joining in at the absurdity and worst timing ever of your boyfriend’s baby-bro.

“I guess we’re gonna have to pick this up another time.” He sighed disappointedly, but his eyes held a promise you clung to.

Sam Winchester was many things. A great hunter, empathetic and kind, your best friend. But mostly, he was the most oblivious cock block known to man.

For weeks you and Dean had been trying to have a little alone time. If it wasn’t the motel’s having only one twin room left, or a case taking its tole on you both to the point of pure exhaution, it was Sam’s impeccable timing.

You righted yourself by pulling on your discarded underwear and sleep-shorts, grimacing as the fabric met the mess between your legs.

Dean casually sucked his fingers clean of your juices, making your jaw drop and clit pulse in want.

Noticing your longing stare, he winked and slid a hand beneath his sweat pants to adjust the obvious tent, just in time for Sam to tap on the window.

“What are you guys doing out here? I tried calling you both for the past half hour.” Dean had opened the back seat and stepped out, allowing you to shuffle to the edge of the seat.

“I had a nightmare.” You lied easily as you stepped out of the car as well.

“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you, so Dean offered to sit with me, calm me down.”

If oscars were awarded for best lie told, you’re sure you’d be up there in the nominees. It wasn’t necessary to lie to Sam but it beat, “your brother was just fingering me in the back of his car because we never have any time alone away from you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sam was sincere and his look sympathetic. It allowed for a shred of guilt to be had.

“Why were you looking for us anyway?” Dean interrupted, voice slightly rough and irritated, although Sam didn’t seem to notice.

“I found a case a couple of miles out. Three victims have turned up dead in the last week, all with their hearts missing. Sherif is calling it a vicious animal attack but, i figures we got ourselves a werewolf.”

Silence.

“And that couldn’t wait until morning.” Dean speaks up first. His agitation clear this time.

“Well, technically it is morning. It’s like five A M.” Sam shrugs like it’s nothing and you internally sigh.

“You’re right, we just lost track of time.” You force a smile and ignore Dean’s pointed look as a sudden plan forms in your mind.

“Let us freshen up and maybe you could grab us some coffee and breakfast? You know, since you’re the only one dressed and all.” You ask sweetly, hoping he takes the bait.

“Yeah sure. I was going to grab us all some breakfast anyway.” Sam offers.

Bingo.

“That’d be great, i’m starving.” You exaggerate with a hand on your stomach. In the corner of your eye, Dean gives you a funny look and it takes everything in you not to smirk.

“Okay, well i’ll see you in ten.” Sam says before making his way across the street toward the 24 hour diner.

Wasting no time, you grab Dean’s hand and roughly pull him with you toward the room.

“Woah, what in the-“ You shut him up with your lips roughly pressing to his once you enter the room. His back hitting the closed door with a dull thud.

“If you think i’m going to wait for God knows how long before i feel you inside me again. You’ve got another thing coming.” You explain in a rush as you tug his plain-black t-shirt over his head.

A smirk forms on his lips at your eagerness and Dean has to admit, it turns him on just how desperate you are.

“Oh, i like the way you think sweetheart.”

You sat in the backseat of baby, irritable, uncomfortable and beyond sexually frustrated.

Your attempt to finish what you and Dean had started back in the room was short lived, when Sam returned only 2 minutes later, having forgotten his wallet.

To say you were in a mood was an understatement. And the permanent scowl on Dean’s face and his white knuckling grip on the steering wheel, told you he was right there with you.

In the end, the three of you figured out who the culprit was, or should you say culprits were, relatively quickly. It was a young man, Johnny Turner who was recently turned, which explained the sloppy kills. And you later discovered the pack who’d turned him, hiding out in a cabin just outside of town.

Overall, it was a successful hunt with minimum injuries and you had prevented a young girl from being the fourth victim. But three people had still died and a young man had to spend his last moments of life as a monster he never wanted to be.

You still remember the fear and confusion in his eyes at what he’d done. But then he’d went to attack you and ended up with three silver bullets from Dean’s gun lodged in his chest.

So, when you climbed into bed that night, Dean following shortly after you as Sam lightly snored away on the bed opposite. There were no wandering hands under the covers, working each other up until you were desperate enough to find yourself back in the back seat of baby. Just silence.

All in all, Sam’s case had inadvertently been another giant cock-block in itself.

3 Days Later.

It wasn’t your most classiest moment, but you found yourself knelt on a grubby restroom floor; Dean above you with his jeans and boxers pushed down mid thigh as you took his heavy, achingly hard length into your mouth.

You could be ashamed at how horny you were. That you’d stoop so low as to pushing him into a disgusting bathroom stall; dropping to your knees and blowing him right then and there.

But after a whole day of watching him work on Baby, greased up, sweaty and watching his biceps flex as he adjusted loose bolts and nuts under the hood. It was like dangling a piece of meat in-front of a starving dog. You just had to take a bite.

After being unfairly teased all day, you had all ventured to the local dive in town. Of course, Sam came along, actually wanting to join in for once.

Despite your own sexual frustrations, you’d had a good time. Drunk Sam was a lot of fun and it was nice seeing everyone relaxed and with a smile on their face for once.

However, once Sam’s attention was preoccupied by a pretty brunette; and with a strong bout of liquid courage in your system, you’d taken advantage of the situation and summoned Dean to join you in the restroom.

You knew he was just as worked up as you were. You’d felt as much whilst playing a game pool earlier on in the night, when he’d pressed up against you, not so subtly and let you feel just how much the skirt you’d opted to wear turned him on.

So now here you were, sucking off your boyfriend in the restroom stall of a dive bar, like some horny teenager. But if his moans and grunts as he lightly thrusted his hips intime with the bobbing of your head, told you anything. It was that he was more than on board.

Your panties were beyond soaked and uncomfortable but, Dean’s laboured breath’s and flushed cheeks as you looked up at him; his balls drawing up tight in your palm as you let him fuck into your mouth, a tell tail sign he was close, had you doubling your efforts to get him there.

“Holy shit baby. Right there.” He panted as you breathed deeply through your nose and took him as deep as your gag reflex would allow. The hand holding your hair back tightened, bringing with it a sharp sting of pleasure, making you moan around him.

He was seconds away from his release, when a loud bang interrupted you. It was as if an ice-cold bucket of water had been poured over your heads.

Startled, Dean’s slick cock slipped from your lips as you jumped back in shock. The loud bang was shortly followed by a girly giggle and a mans chuckle.

You looked up at Dean, wide eyed and silently asking if he wanted you to continue, when you heard it.

The stall next you rattled as the couple stumbled inside, the sounds of lips lewdly smacking together and then a voice you’d recognise anywhere, instantly cleared your sex hazed fog and had you as dry as a desert.

It was Sam.

You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean’s look told you.

One week later found the three of you pulling into Bobby’s for some much needed R&R.

After a week of non stop hunts, your bruised and beaten body needed at least a long weekend to recover. And the boys were more than inclined to agree.

As soon as your feet hit the gravel outside of Bobby’s house, you sighed in relief. The drive was long and your back, legs and butt ached from the lengthy position held.

“S’good to see you idgits.” Came the gruff greeting from Bobby as he stepped out the front door. You smiled at the term that had always been more out of endearment rather than as an insult.

You were the first to make your way over and fall into his embrace. Bobby always did give the best hugs. You’d missed him, a lot you realised as he gave you a big squeeze.

Although, your wince had him pulling back immediately to assess you with concern.

“Im all good, it’s just been a long week.” You explained truthfully and though he let it go, you could see he wasn’t fully satisfied with your answer.

“Mind if i grab a shower? I need to get the stink of hours being hot-boxed with the most gassiest man alive off of me.” You jab your finger blindly in Sam’s direction and miss his offended look.

Dean however, barks out a laugh to which Sam throws him his signature bitch-face.

“Hey, she’s not wrong man. S’probably all that rabbit food you eat.” Dean shrugs innocently, but is unable to contain his amusement.

“I’m not going to apologise for eating healthy Dean. Wouldn’t kill you to eat a salad once in a while mister, two double cheese burgers with extra bacon for breakfast.” Sam sasses back, mocking Dean’s gravelly voice. And in doing so, starts the endless bickering between the two brothers.

You decide then to make your escape, passing Bobby with a thankful hand on his shoulder and an apologetic look in your eyes as you make your way inside and upstairs toward the bathroom.

You drop your duffle to the floor and rummage through for some clean clothes. Luckily, you find a faded band t-shirt that you’re pretty sure once belonged to Dean and some leggings. It’ll have to do until you can take advantage of Bobby’s washer and dryer.

You’ll have to cook dinner as a thank you, you decide before peeling off your two day old clothes; grimacing slightly at the pain in your overused muscles and possibly bruised ribs.

You turn on the shower, making sure it’s on the verge of scolding, allowing for a billow of steam to encompass the medium sized bathroom, before stepping into the tub.

At first you flinch at warm spray in contrast to your much cooler skin, but quickly melt under the pressure and warmth seeping deep into your bones.

As you stand motionless, the weight of the last few weeks, possibly months, of being tense, unsatisfied and in pain, gradually releases it’s vice-like grip on you and washes away with the muck and grime accumulated on your skin.

Bliss. Thats what this was. Pure unadulterated bliss.

You’re so enraptured with the feeling, you don’t even notice him enter the room. Nor do you hear the shuffling of clothes being removed, or the curtain pulling back for him to step inside behind you.

It’s not until the coolness of his palms makes contact with your hips, do you startle and turn to meet the vibrant green eyes of your intruder.

“You don’t mind if i join you, do you?” Dean asks. As if you had a choice on the matter, as if you’d ever refuse.

You shake your head in both amusement and in answer to his question, and turn back around as he begins to lather his palms up with the body wash you’d brought with you.

A welcoming fruity smell of strawberries invades your sinuses and you soon hum in pleasure as his large, soapy hands glide across your skin. The act is incredibly intimate without the need to initiate into anything more than Dean simply taking care of you.

However, as his slick hands wander to your front, gliding across your stomach and up to lather your breasts. A fire that had been put out one too many times, reignites within you.

You bite your lip and lay your head back against his shoulder as his hands travel back south. Your breathing grows heavier as his seemingly innocent actions spark you to life.

The feel of his smile against the side of your head, tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing though. So as a form of punishment, you subtly press back against him, smiling devilishly at the feel of his hardening length against your lower back.

His breathing shallows as you slowly gyrate your hips back against him and your pussy throbs in need of something, anything.

The famous saying, ‘great minds think alike’ had never proven more true as Dean’s right hand continues its journey, until two of his thick digits part your wet folds.

You gasp as his middle finger begins to slowly circle your clit, causing an electric jolt of pleasure to course through your entire body.

“You’re so wet already baby.” Dean husks in your ear, just as he briefly dips a finger into your dripping hole before returning the coated digit to your clit.

Adding his forefinger, Dean begins to quicken the pace of his fingers and adds pressure onto the pulsing bundle of nerves, making you cry out and twitch and convulse in his embrace.

He holds you tightly to him by wrapping his other arm around your waist, as you shake and your stance falters, gripping onto the arm wrapped around you like a life line.

“Come for me baby.” You hear him all but growl, before you feel his soft lips begin to nip and suck at the sensitive junction between your neck and shoulder. His fingers are vigorous now and the coil wound tight within in you finally snaps.

Everything goes white; your veins like molten lava, fiery hot and melting your bones as the tremors of your well- overdue orgasm course through you.

“Fuuuck.” You can’t help but moan as your tense body slowly becomes like jelly against the strength of your boyfriend. Dean holds you upright as you slowly come to and only loosens his hold when he knows you’re able to stand on your own.

For a moment you feel like you had died and gone to heaven. Utterly relaxed and boneless, you smile dopily until the numbness fades and the overwhelming need to feel him inside you takes over.

You twist in his embrace and pull his face down to crash your lips to his. It’s messy, all tongue and clashing teeth, both blinded by pure desire and pent up frustrations.

You slide a hand between your bodies and glide your hand up and down his length. He’s hard as a rock and seeping at the tip, which you gather in your palm as you continue to jerk him off.

“Shit.” He pulls away with a hiss, eyes closed tight as he presses his forehead to yours. You bite your lip as you take him in, forever impressed of the beauty that is Dean Winchester.

His hand moves to stop you suddenly and he meets your questioning look with pupils blown wide.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep it up. Need to be inside you now.” He all but growls before sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You wrap your legs securely around his waist as he pushes you against the tile. The coolness brings out a gasp that’s soon swallowed by Dean’s all consuming, toe curling kiss.

“Please.” You beg as you pull away for a needed breath. Too worked up to vocalise anything else. Dean understands you though and shifts you higher up the wall, using it as leverage as he frees an arm to guide himself into you.

Your eyes cross as he slowly descends you onto his cock. The stretch is both overwhelming and not enough at the same time as he bottoms out. It’s a feeling you’ve missed gravely and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Holy fuck.” Dean groans deep in his throat at the feel of your tight, warm walls finally wrapped around him. A feeling he’s been starved of for too damn long.

“You feel so good baby.” You praise and cup his cheek to guide his lips back to yours. He slowly slides his way out of you until just his tip remains, before thrusting back in with a sharp snap of his hips.

The action makes you cry out breathlessly, eyes wide in the most painful pleasure. You keep your eyes locked when he does it again, mouth agape in a silent scream with each drag of his length against your sensitive walls.

He builds up a confident rhythm, hitting you in the sweet spot every time, making your toes curl and breathing labour.

“Fuck i’ve missed the feel of you.” You moan particularly loudly when he hits the right spot.

“You’re so tight and wet. Fuck.” Dean groans as he picks up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, almost overshadowing the patter of the showers spray.

You’re close, you can feel it. Feel it in the way your lower belly clenches and limbs tense as your nerve endings spark with each thrust.

Dean’s close too. His panting breaths making way for the odd growl to slip out as he strains with effort to keep you both up. His own limbs starting to flutter in strength at his impending release.

Just as you’re about to loose it, there’s knock on the door, causing Dean to still and you to bite your lip in attempt to stop a frustrated groan.

“Hey Y/N? Have you seen Dean? I need the keys to the impala.” Sam’s muffled voice carried through the door.

Dean looks livid, but you look at him questioning eyes. ‘What do i say?’

It takes a moment, but Deans irritation fades and a sly smirk replaces it.

“I’m in here Sammy!” Dean calls out and your eyes widen in shock. However, you’re unable to say a thing when he shifts his hips, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out, before pushing just as slowly back in.

Your mouth drops open and eyes flutter as he repeats the action.

“Wait why are you…” Sam trails off and you almost don’t hear his “oh.” Of realisation.

“Might not wanna traumatise yourself Sammy.” Dean calls out, just before he snaps his hips harshly into you again, and you can’t help but cry out. Your cheeks blush at the fact Sam could hear you.

“Dean!” You scold in a hushed whisper, but he doesn’t stop, making you bite your lip to stop from crying out more. Thankfully you hear Sam’s footsteps quickly retreat.

“I’m done with interruptions.” Dean all but growls before crashing his lips to yours. His hips begin to piston into you at an almost bruising, quickly bringing you both back to the brink. Your cries of pleasure muffle against his lips and your hands tangle in his hair harshly, making him moan.

“Fuck i’m going to cum.” You gasp, head thrown back and back arching as much as was possible in the position you were in.

“Let go baby. I’m right there with you.” Dean pants and you meet his eyes in a silent cry as you tense up. Your orgasm rippling through you like a bolt of electricity.

“Fuuuuck.” Dean quickly follows you with a couple more thrusts. His body tensing as he grunts into your neck, each twitch of his cock as he empties his seed deep inside you, sending little aftershocks through your body.

You’re both breathing hard, even when he pulls back to look at you. Dopy smiles rise on your lips simultaneously, and laughter soon follows. Dean slowly puts you down on shaky legs, but keeps you close as he leans down to claim your lips once more.

It’s slow and passionate and striking you back to life as we speak. The smirk on Dean’s lips is all knowing and you want to smack away his smugness, but you can’t find it in you to make on that promise when his wandering hand cups your aching sex.

“Someone’s a needy girl, ain’t they.” He mumbles between kissing his way down your neck as his thick digits stroke you to life.

You gasp at the sensation, torn between too sensitive and desperate to feel more.

You glide your hand up his broad shoulder and through his damp hair before gripping tight enough to make him hiss. His eyes darken lustfully and you smirk a little at the feel of him twitching against you.

“You have no fucking idea.” You whisper, before pulling his lips to yours.

It’s safe to say Bobby’s water bill paid a price that day.