#think I’ll just go with something a little more simple

[subcultureblues]

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3

———

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.

“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.

Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.

Dustin slowed.

….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.

Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.

“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.

Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.

Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.

“Why are you angry at those flowers?”

“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”

Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.

“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.

“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head.

Jesus, he must be gone bad.

And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.

“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.

“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve said, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”

“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”

““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”

“Different how?” Dustin demanded.

“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.

“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…

“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “

He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,

“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”

“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”

Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”

“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”

“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.

“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.

“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”

Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.

“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.

“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.

Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.

Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.

Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.

They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.

“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”

“He’s not at work?”

“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.

“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “

Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.

“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.

“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”

Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.

“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.

“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”

It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.

And the rest of the party of course.

On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.

After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.

So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.

Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.

Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.

He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.

Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.

“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.

Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).

Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.

Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.

But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.

Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.

“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.

“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.

“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.

“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.

“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.

“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.

“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.

“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.

“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.

“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”

Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.

“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”

“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”

“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.

“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.

“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.

“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.

“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.

“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”

Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.

“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”

“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.

“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.

“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”

“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”

“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”

Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.

“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.

“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”

“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.

Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.

Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?

Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?

Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.

These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.

On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.

He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.

When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.

“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”

Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.

His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.

“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “

“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.

“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.

Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.

“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”

They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.

Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”

“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.

Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.

Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.

Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.

“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.

“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”

“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.

“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.

“What are you on about?”

Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?

“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!

Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?

Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.

“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“

“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.

“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.

“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.

“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.

“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”

“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.

Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”

Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?

“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.

Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.

Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.

“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”

“Sure.” Dustin said.

“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.

He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.

Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.

“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.

Robin glanced side long at him.

“I can talk to him you know.” He said.

“Huh?”

“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”

“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.

“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”

Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.

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[strnilolover]

ditsy!reader with player!chris and matt with adhd!reader double date fic? 🫣🫣

It was supposed to be a simple night out — dinner at a local Italian spot followed by mini-golf. Chris had suggested it on a whim, wanting an excuse to hang out with Matt after not being able to see him for so long. Both of the brothers always being busy with with own things — but also being busy with their own girls.

But neither Chris nor Matt were prepared for the chaos that was going to unfold once the four of them were together. The minute angel and star met, it was as if the world around them didn’t exist whatsoever — everything, including Chris and Matt, had been drowned out. The girls being sucked into their own little world with just them.

“Oh my gosh, I love your nails!” angel squealed with excitement, grabbing stars hand to inspect her bright, multicolored manicure that was slightly chipping away at a few of her fingers.

“Thanks! I did them last night because I got bored, but now I can’t stop picking at them,” she replied, holding up her other hand to show a chipped thumbnail. “I do the same thing!” angel gasped. “Like, the second one nail chips, I just have to take them all off. It’s so bad.” and star quickly nodded her head in agreement.

Matt and Chris exchanged a glance as the two of them launched into a full-blown conversation about nail polish, fidget toys, and a completely unrelated tangent about their favorite snacks. The boys heads shaking as grins tugged at their lips — this was going to be a long night.

Later at dinner, angel and star kept their conversations going. Talking about random topics, or ping ponging off of one another as they each said something. Though, when the waitress had approached the table — Chris had to get angels attention.

He nudged her arm. “You’re up,” Chris said, nodding toward the server who had arrived to take their orders when angels attention turned to him.

“Oh! Uh, can I get the, um…” angel trailed off, squinting at the menu like it was written in a foreign language. “Wait, what’s a caprese salad? Is that the one with cheese?” you gasped.

“Yes,” the server replied, looking mildly amused. “Oh, I love cheese! I’ll take that, please,” angel decided, handing the menu over.

Then star clapped her hands. “Oh, if you’re getting that, then I’ll get the spaghetti! Wait, no, the lasagna — no, wait, the spaghetti!” She paused, looking at Matt in a panic. “Which one do you think I’d like more?” and Matt just chuckled softly. “The spaghetti, babe. You always steal mine when I get it.” he stated softly.

“You’re so right. Spaghetti it is!” she announced triumphantly, handing her menu over to the server as well. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was a tiny smirk playing on his lips. “You good, angel?” he asked her, his voice teasing.

“Yep! Oh, wait! Do they have garlic bread?” she asked, flipping the menu back open even though the server had already walked away. “They’ll bring it,” Chris reassured her, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

When the food had finally arrived, it was hard for either boy to think or focus on their food as the pair of girls continued to talk.

Chris poked at his lasagna, watching as angel animatedly recounted a story about the time she accidentally put dish soap in the dishwasher. Matt was equally quiet, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he listened to star explain how she once stayed up until 3 AM organizing her bookshelf by color, only to rearrange it by genre the next day.

By the time the dessert arrived, angel and star had bonded over everything from their mutual fear of spiders to the oddly specific way they both folded your socks.

Chris’ eyes flicked over to Matt. “Do you think they even know we’re here?” he muttered, leaning toward him slowly. Matt shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Probably not. But, honestly? It’s kind of nice seeing them so happy.”

Chris glanced at angel, the way her eyes sparkled as she giggled at something star had said. His smirk softened into something more genuine. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It is.”

Later, at mini-golf, angel and star proved to be just as chaotic as they were at dinner. Instead of competing, they decided to work together to make the “ultimate trick shot,” which mostly involved them both giggling uncontrollably as their golf balls ricocheted off every obstacle.

“Okay, okay, this time I’m gonna hit it super hard, and it’s totally gonna go in,” angel said, lining up her shot. Star had quickly stopped her, “Wait! Let me record it!” she said, fumbling with her phone. “This is gonna go viral, I swear.” she joked as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Chris and Matt stood off to the side, arms crossed as they watched the spectacle unfold. “Should we help them, or…?” Matt asked, his question trailing off as he just watched the curiously.

Chris chuckled, watching the same scene unfold in front of him. “Nah,” he replied, shaking his head. “Let them do their thing.”

As the two of them finally managed to sink the ball — on the 14th try — Chris couldn’t help but laugh at the way angel high-fived star like they’d just won the Olympics.

“Alright, angel, let’s see if you can do that again on the next hole,” Chris teased, pulling her into his side as she walked to the next course. “Challenge accepted!” she declared, grinning up at him.

Matt glanced at star, who was already distractedly trying to read the mini-golf rulebook like it was the most fascinating thing in the world — when really it wasn’t, it just gave her something to do besides talking to angel.

Matt walked beside Chris, leaning into him a little as he kept his gaze on star. “Think they’ll ever run out of things to talk about?” he asked Chris.

Chris smirked, watching angel skip up toward star, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

© strnilolover

[sylusdarling]

Caught Kitten

Sylus x reader

✧ How to deal with naughty kittens who don’t listen

Content: Sylus x fem!reader, vaginal sex, evol useage, switch!reader, riding

A/N: This is my first fic on this blog. I’m so excited to post. I hope you all enjoy!

You weren’t planning to give up. You had to prove to that bastard that you weren’t weak and that you were more than capable to win a simple bet like capturing a brooch. It was your third time sneaking into Sylus’ room within the past few days. Each time you’ve failed to find the brooch and it resulted with a snarky Sylus kicking you out of his room. But not tonight, you were going to find that goddamn crow brooch.

You approached the large red doors that lead into the silver haired man’s bedroom. Standing outside for a moment you inhaled a deep breath preparing for whatever may be on the other side. With a soft push of your palm against the door it opened. Cautiously you poked your head into the room, you were met with silence.

Taking soft, calculated steps you began to step foot into the room. Unfortunately for you, you failed to notice the main obstacle that was present in the room, Sylus himself. He sat on his king size bed with his head down. He sat in his signature crimson robe that unfortunately for you, hugged his body much too well. After taking a closer look you noticed that he was currently cleaning his gun. His large hand roamed over the gun as he cleaned it with a black silk handkerchief.

You prayed that he was focused enough at the task at hand that you would get a few minutes in without being kicked out. Your first stop was his bedside table. Right before you got there Sylus turned around unexpectedly and aimed the newly cleaned gun directly at you.

“Freeze.” He ordered.

You sighed already defeated and stuck your hands in the air. He approached you, gun still pointed at you. “Seems like a little kitty stumbled into somewhere she shouldn’t be once again.”

Your head drooped. “I’ll see myself out.” You turned onto your heel to leave but Sylus unexpectedly grabbed your wrist. “And who said you can leave?” His sharp red eyes starred at you as he awaited an answer.

“Well I just assumed you were going to kick me out again.”

Sylus tsked. “And I guess that means you already forgot what I said if I were to catch you sneaking into here again.” Before you could respond he began to drag you to his bed.

“W-wait!” Sylus threw you onto his bed and you landed with an “oof.”

Sylus climbed on top of you. His sharp red eyes piercing you as you were trapped underneath him. “I told you, if I were to catch you again you’d be punished.”

You scoffed, “As if being trapped here with you isn’t already punishment enough.”

“Oh sweetie, don’t say that. You’ll hurt my feelings.” The silver haired man smirked.

Flashes of black and red swirled around you and suddenly you were bound in place. Sylus used his evol to tie your hands down which left you helpless.

He grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger as he stared at you. “Now, what will I do with you?”

You struggled against his evol even though you knew you were trapped. You laughed bitterly. “You hate me enough that this is what you resorted to?”

Sylus’ eyes narrowed dangerously at your statement. “Oh is that what you think?”

“Aren’t I right?” You scoffed.

He hummed, “I’d say it’s quite the opposite.”

He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. It was forceful, heated even. Like he was trying to convey something.

Once he pulled away you took a deep inhale trying to catch your breath.

“Why don’t you put your claws away, kitten?”

Turning away from Sylus you hmphed at him.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Sylus spoke. “Seems like someone has some attitude today.”

The dual coloured tendrils began to slither up under your shirt. It caused the buttons to pop.

He ran his hand up your bra. “Hm, black lace. A nice choice, It suits you.” He hooked his finger in the middle of your lace bra and pulled down which caused your breasts to spill out.

You yelped in shock. “Sylus!”

The silver haired main took one of your nipples into your mouth without breaking eye contact. His sharp, ruby eyes gazed directly into yours as he sucked which caused a full body shiver. “Maybe your mouth does have another purpose other than being a cocky bastard.”

Pulling off of you with a ‘pop’ he grinned. “Careful, talk like that will only make me harder sweetie.” Taking your hand he pressed it against his robe covered groin. And he indeed wasn’t lying about that. Feeling the hardness in your hand made you clench around nothing. Clouded by arousal, your dislike for Sylus began to fade. Instead you desired him. You needed him.

“Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

He snickered, “Seems like someone had a change of heart.”

You struggled against his evol once again. “Please. If you don’t fuck me, I will.”

“Oh really?” He flicked his wrist and suddenly his evol around your wrists dissipated. “Go ahead then.”

You glared at him as you sat up. In a swift movement you crossed the bed and pushed him down. Now he laid under you with your hands at either side of his head. His silver hair laid messily against the comforter as he looked up at you. “Oh, is kitty feeling feisty tonight?”

Your hands fumbled with the knot that held Sylus’ robe together, “You said to go ahead, so I did.”

Even though you didn’t like the man’s personality, you had eyes. He was good looking with his toned body and handsome face. It pissed you off. The fact that you couldn’t deny wanting him any longer also pissed you off. Once the robe was undone your hands glided across his skin, feeling him up. Your heated gaze scanned every inch of skin, every mole and every divot of his abs.

“Like what you see, sweetie?”

“What if I do?” You retorted.

His large hands snaked up around your waist, “Then that means I can admit that I like what I see as well.”

“Sylus, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted as you reached for his cock. His tip was already leaking, clearly affected by you.

“Then don’t.”

Lining his cock up with yourself, you began to sink down on it. He was so large and thick that you were struggling to get it to all fit. “It’s so big.”

“Come on, kitten. You can do it. You’re almost there.” Sylus was grabbing your hips to help you sink down.

Sylus threw his head back in bliss as you clenched around him. “God, you feel divine.” He spoke in what sounded like a growl.

“D-do you think I can move?” You asked.

“Take your time. If you think you’re ready go ahead but don’t push yourself too hard.” He was surprisingly caring.

Once you were comfortable enough you decided to move. Slowly you pushed yourself up almost off of his cock before you sunk back down with a whine. It felt so good. You needed more. You repeated the process slowly picking up speed. Sylus watched you like a hawk, making sure to not miss any of your gorgeous facial expressions.

He was lost in the way your body moved. Mesmerized even. “You’re absolutely perfect, kitten.” His hands roamed your body. Up the sides of your hips, your breasts, your neck. Anywhere he could get his hands on. He needed to feel you.

“I think I’m going to come.” You panted as your legs were getting sore and sweat dripped down your forehead.

“Go ahead, sweetie. You deserve it.” He said as he tweaked your breast. He leaned into your ear and on his deep, husky voice he whispered “Come for me.” And that tipped you over the edge. You saw white, blinding light as you came with a cry on Sylus’ cock.

You could tell Sylus wasn’t far behind. Leaning in, you kissed him. Tangling your hot tongues together as you grinded down on his cock.

“I’m coming, kitten.” He breathed out before he came inside you The white, hot cum filling you up. You pulled away from the kiss and let out a huff of air.

Pulling of of Sylus, you flopped down beside him on the bed absolutely exhausted. The silver haired man leaned over and brushed your messy hair out of your face.

“You did very well, kitten.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled out, exhausted.

He grabbed your hand and placed something inside of it. “I think you deserve this.” Opening your hand you were met with the brooch that you’re been searching for the whole time.

“Does this mean I pass the test?” You giggled.

He hummed, “Yes, I think your…determination is rather admirable.” You felt the weight beside you on the bed leave. Looking up you saw Sylus standing above you. He slotted his arms underneath you and picked you up bridal style.

“How about a shower?”

You snuggled into his warmth with a smile. “Sounds good.”

“Snuggling into my chest, you really are like a kitten.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he said that.

[mrsportgas]

The Neightbor. Chapter 8

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust @nocturnalrorobin @candy1277 @bluetokie @cyberkittenduck

@heartsytune @riftmage27

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure, and looked at him with a touch of defiance in my eyes. "You think it’s going to be that easy, Shanks?" I whispered, my voice steadier than I expected. "I won’t give in that easily. If you really want this to mean something, you’ll have to prove to me that your words are more than just sweet nothings."

His smile widened, but this time there was a different glint in his eyes, something more genuine. "Is that what you think of me?" His tone was playful, yet serious at the same time. "I promise, I’ll show you that what I feel for you is so much more than just a fleeting moment."

We stayed silent for a moment. The tension between us was palpable, but it had morphed into something deeper. Shanks wasn’t just the flirty, charming man I’d always known; beneath that façade, I could see a sincerity I hadn’t noticed before.

He leaned back slightly, putting some distance between us but without breaking the connection. "I don’t want to pressure you, Y/N. But I’d love it if you stayed tonight. We could watch a movie, relax together, and just… enjoy each other’s company. No pressure, just whatever you want."

I looked at him, surprised by his softer proposal. I had expected him to keep up his seductive tone, but instead, he was offering something simple, something real. My heart softened a bit, and despite the whirlwind of emotions in my chest, I couldn’t help but smile.

"Just cuddles?" I asked, feigning skepticism but unable to hide the amusement in my voice.

He laughed, a warm sound that melted a little more of my resolve. "Just cuddles… and maybe a good movie," he replied, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Alright," I agreed, letting my heart make the decision for me. I got up from the couch, feeling the weight of Shanks’ gaze as he followed me. We headed to his room, and though my mind was buzzing with nerves, his steady presence calmed me. Gently, he guided me with a hand on the small of my back, keeping that connection without saying a word.

Once in his room, he turned on a soft light, creating a cozy atmosphere. I sat on the edge of his bed while he opened a drawer and pulled out a t-shirt.

"You can wear this if you’d like," he said, holding it out with a smile that was almost shy.

I looked at him for a second before taking it. "Thanks," I replied, accepting the shirt and feeling a strange warmth as our fingers brushed briefly. I turned away to change while he busied himself adjusting the blankets and pillows to make the bed more comfortable.

The shirt smelled like him, a mix of something warm and woodsy, and I shivered at the thought.

Once I was ready, I turned to him, now wearing his oversized shirt that was perfect for the occasion. Shanks looked me up and down, his eyes glinting with sincere admiration. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me," he said with a soft smile.

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "You always have something to say, don’t you?"

"Always," he replied, winking before slipping into bed and lifting the corner of the blankets to invite me in.

I settled in next to him, and he made sure I was snugly covered. Despite our closeness, the feeling of safety was undeniable. Shanks started the movie, and for the first few minutes, we sat in silence, watching the images flicker across the screen. But soon, I noticed him typing something quickly on his phone.

A flood of questions filled my mind, but I knew better than to jump to conclusions.

After a few moments, he leaned closer to my ear. "So, you’ve made plans with my friends tomorrow and didn’t think to invite me, huh?"

I turned to him quickly, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"There’s a barbecue at Marco’s place, and apparently, you and your friends are going to be there," he said with a wide grin.

The barbecue. After everything that had happened recently, it had completely slipped my mind.

"Oh, right… I remember now. Well, you’ll be lucky if I even say hi to you," I teased.

Shanks burst into laughter, the sound echoing warmly in the room. His laughter was so contagious that I had to bite my lip to keep from joining in. "So, now you’re playing hard to get?" he asked, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him silently.

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked on mine, the playful smile still tugging at his lips. "I know you won’t be able to resist when you see me there… waiting for you. And besides," his voice dropped to a low murmur as he moved even closer to my ear, "I know you want to see me."

A shiver ran down my spine, impossible to ignore, and I had to fight to maintain my composure. Shanks loved to tease, to tempt, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

"And what if I don’t go?" I said, playing with the edge of the blanket. "I might decide not to show up, leaving you there all alone… waiting in vain."

Shanks’ hand slid to my waist, slow but deliberate, pulling me closer to him. "Then I won’t go either," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against my skin. "If you’re not there, it’s no fun."

I looked at him, narrowing my eyes slightly, searching for any hint of a joke in his expression. But no, he was entirely serious. His intensity, mixed with that natural charm, made it hard to look away.

"So, you’re only going if I go?" I asked, trying to keep the teasing tone but knowing deep down that his answer mattered more than I wanted to admit.

Shanks studied me for a moment, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair before he spoke. "Exactly. If you’re not going, then the barbecue doesn’t interest me. I’d rather stay here… and do this all day." He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing mine, taunting me.

I bit my lip, trying to hide the smile threatening to break free. Shanks always knew how to leave me caught between amusement and desire. "You’re overestimating yourself, Shanks."

"Oh, am I?" His grip on my waist tightened slightly, pulling me even closer until our breaths mingled. "We could test that tomorrow, but I’ll warn you… I don’t usually lose at these games."

I let out a small laugh, but deep down, I knew he was right. There was something about him that always managed to draw me in, and while I loved to challenge him, the truth was, I wanted him more than I cared to admit. Still, I couldn’t let him win too easily.

"Alright," I finally said, my voice softer as my hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. "I’ll go… but don’t think you’ll have all my attention."

Shanks smirked, that familiar cocky grin I couldn’t resist. "Don’t worry," he said confidently, his lips so close to mine that I could almost feel the touch. "I’ll settle for half… for now."

The silence between us grew heavier, charged with that delicious tension that always hung in the air when we were this close. Finally, unable to resist any longer, our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss that quickly deepened, the world around us fading away.

As we pulled apart, just enough to catch our breath, Shanks looked at me with those dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. With a playful smile, he murmured, "Tomorrow, I’ll prove to you that you can’t ignore me."

I smiled back, feeling a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through my veins. "We’ll see who wins," I whispered before he stole another kiss, more passionate than the last.

I woke up to the soft sensation of something warm and familiar around me. Opening my eyes, I found Shanks, his arm wrapped around my waist, his face resting on my shoulder. The warmth of his body, his steady breathing, and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat made everything feel perfect for a moment. I didn’t want to move—just stay there, in his arms, basking in that sense of safety and affection.

However, I knew I’d have to get ready for the barbecue soon. I shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but his arms tightened around me. “Were you planning to sneak off without saying goodbye?” he murmured, his voice husky, still half-asleep.

I smiled, turning to look at him better. “I have to get ready for Marco’s barbecue,” I reminded him softly, my fingers gently running through his hair.

Shanks opened one eye, gazing at me with a playful grin starting to form. “You could stay here a little longer…” His hand slid down my back, tracing soft patterns that sent shivers through me.

“I’d love to,” I replied, leaning in to give him a small kiss on the lips, “but if I stay any longer, I won’t even have time to get dressed.”

He chuckled softly before pulling me closer, burying his face in my neck and whispering, “Perfect.”

Shanks enveloped me in his warmth, and for a moment, I considered giving in and staying with him all day. But eventually, I managed to pull away, though not without some resistance from him.

“I’ll see you at the barbecue,” I said, standing and stretching. The shirt he had lent me still smelled like him, bringing a smile to my face. He sat up on the bed, watching me.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said with a mischievous smile, raising a hand in farewell.

Once I stepped out of his apartment, the fresh morning air greeted me. Though I was a little tired from the intensity of the night, I was also excited for the day ahead. As I walked home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from Beckman.

Beckman: Y/N, things got complicated for tonight. But meet me tomorrow at 9 AM at HawkEdge Industries, and have the presentation ready.

His message brought back the memory of his proposition. Beckman wanted to talk about something, though I still didn’t know what. The text left me feeling slightly nervous, but I decided to shelve my uncertainty for later. I wouldn’t know until tomorrow anyway. What could be so pressing for Beckman? Why all the mystery? It was clear I wouldn’t get answers just yet.

Once home, I took a quick shower and chose a casual but cute outfit for the occasion. I knew Shanks would be there, so I couldn’t just show up in anything, but I didn’t want to look like I’d tried too hard, either.

Just as I was finishing up, Nami appeared at the door with a big smile, wearing stylish sunglasses and a perfect summer dress. “Ready for the barbecue?” she asked.

“Ready,” I replied, though my mind kept drifting back to my moments with Shanks and the pending conversation with Beckman.

“Thinking about Shanks?” Nami asked, noticing my distracted expression.

“Something like that,” I admitted with a sidelong smile. “And Beckman too. He wants to see me tomorrow, and I hope he’s not disappointed with how I handled things the other day.”

Nami raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Beckman, huh? That man always has something up his sleeve.”

Nami and I headed downstairs and got into the car, driving to Marco’s house.

The barbecue was in full swing when we arrived. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the delicious aroma of grilled meat and carefree laughter. Several familiar faces were already there, with Marco serving drinks while Zoro and Sanji argued over who made the best skewers—meanwhile, Luffy took advantage and ate them all.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” Nami remarked, adjusting her sunglasses as she waved to Robin, who was sitting by the pool.

We walked around the yard, greeting everyone, but my eyes couldn’t help but search for one person in particular. And then I saw him—across the garden, laughing with the rest of the group. Shanks spotted me almost instantly and, with that smile of his that always seemed meant just for me, gestured for me to come over.

“Well, well, look who decided to join the party,” Shanks said as I approached, his eyes sweeping over me with an appreciative gaze.

“Something to say about how I look?” I replied, crossing my arms with a feigned air of nonchalance.

“I’ll keep my comments to myself, though…” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’d say you look good enough to tempt me not to let you out of my sight today.”

I smiled, trying to keep my composure as warmth spread through me. “Just today?”

Shanks laughed, stepping even closer and leaving very little space between us. “Well, that depends on you.”

His laughter wrapped around me like a warm breeze, drawing me into his orbit. But before I could respond, a third voice broke into the conversation.

“Y/N? How is it that every time I see you, you look even more stunning?” Sanji appeared out of nowhere, his impeccable posture paired with a flower in his hand. It was as if he always had a romantic gesture ready. He approached with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Sanji,” I greeted, smiling at his ever-present charm. “I’ve missed you,” I said, giving him a warm hug.

“And I’ve missed you, beautiful!” he replied dramatically, as was his style. “Has anyone told you today just how utterly enchanting you look?”

Before I could answer, Shanks, who had been quietly observing, stepped in. “I think someone might have mentioned it. But not with such… intensity,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sanji, unfazed, shot him a confident look. “My words aren’t theater, Shanks. I just speak the truth when I see something as dazzling as Y/N.”

The atmosphere filled with a playful tension. While Shanks tried to maintain his cool humor, I could tell Sanji’s open flirtation was testing his patience. Shanks looked at me again, his eyes saying far more than his words.

“Sanji, always so attentive to the ladies,” Shanks commented, slipping his hands into his pockets with a casual air.

Sanji, quick as ever, smiled. “Oh, did I interrupt something? That wasn’t my intention. But if you want to impress a lady like Y/N, Shanks, you should learn a thing or two about romance. Details matter, my friend.”

Shanks let out a laugh, but this one was more sardonic. “Details?” he said, his tone low and laced with intent, his gaze locked on me.

Sanji raised his hands in mock surrender but couldn’t resist one last comment. “Well, just making sure everything’s going smoothly here. You know where to find me.” He winked at me before walking off, leaving Shanks and me amidst a charged silence.

I chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Sanji always knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t he?”

Shanks didn’t respond immediately, though his smile had returned, more relaxed now. “Yeah, he has that gift,” he admitted, though I could sense a lingering touch of jealousy. “But you’re not the kind to fall for a few compliments, are you?”

I looked at him with a playful glint in my eyes. “Are you getting jealous, Shanks?”

He leaned in closer, his signature mischievous grin back on his face. “Jealous? Nah…”

Just then, his phone rang, cutting the moment short. With a quick glance at the screen, he sighed, a mix of irritation and resignation. “Give me a second,” he said, stepping aside to take the call.

I watched him as he spoke, his expressions shifting subtly from irritation to a kind of tense calm. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his body was tight with tension, and his responses were brief. When he finally hung up, he slipped the phone into his pocket with a sharp motion, clearly annoyed.

I approached him, gently touching his arm. “Everything okay?” I asked, noticing the tension in his face.

Shanks let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to relax. “Yeah… well, sort of,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just got reminded I have to go to New York next week. Meetings, business, you know… And honestly, I’m not looking forward to it.”

I crossed my arms, looking at him with curiosity. “Why not? New York doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shanks let out a small laugh, though his foul mood was still evident. “It’s chaos—too many boring meetings and people I’d rather not spend time with. Besides, I’d rather be here, with you.”

The comment brought a shy smile to my lips. I was about to say something to cheer him up when, suddenly, his expression shifted. His eyes lit up playfully, and his usual grin—the one that always carried a mischievous edge—returned.

“You know,” he said, leaning toward me, “everything would be so much easier if you came with me.” His tone was full of teasing, but there was a thread of sincerity woven into his words. “We could sneak away after the meetings, go out for dinner…”

I looked at him, a mix of surprise and amusement on my face, clearly not expecting that invitation. “Are you serious? Shanks, that’s crazy,” I said, trying to hide how fast my heart was racing at the thought.

Shanks nodded, leaning in a little closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Completely serious, Y/N. What do you say? Besides, I can always come up with some excuse to skip a meeting or two…"

I chuckled softly, trying not to let myself get too carried away by his charm. "Shanks, I don’t know… It sounds tempting, but it’s not that simple."

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression suddenly more serious. "Actually, it is. I leave Thursday. Tomorrow, I’ll tell my assistant to book one more ticket. I’ve already got a double room, so there’s more than enough space."

I stayed silent, trying to process everything. Shanks slid an arm behind my back, guiding me closer to him, inch by inch. When I was just millimeters from his face, he whispered, “Just say you’ll come.”

“Alright… I’ll go,” I replied, stunned by the impulsiveness that had overtaken me.

Shanks leaned even closer, his breath warm against my ear, every move of his calm and deliberate. “Perfect, because I plan to make love to you every second of that trip.”

My face burned, and a sensation ran through my entire body. I immediately turned to look at him, and his mischievous grin lit up his face. Without another word, before I could even react, he turned on his heel and walked toward the drinks table.

I stood there, my heart pounding so hard I could almost hear its echo in my ears. Had he really said that? And, worse, had I really agreed to go with him? I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as I tried to regain my composure. Around me, the party continued as if nothing had happened, but for me, everything seemed to have slowed down.

I noticed Nami approaching me, this time with a peculiar expression: a mix of nerves and determination.

“What’s up?” I asked, curious, as I noticed she wasn’t alone.

Nami, her usual confidence slightly wavering for some reason, took a breath before responding. “I want to introduce you to someone. Robin, Y/N, this is Smoker. He’s… well, my Ph.D. supervisor.”

I was momentarily stunned because Smoker wasn’t exactly the first person I’d picture next to someone like Nami. Tall, imposing, with that constant expression of being halfway between annoyed and focused, he commanded attention without trying. But at that moment, there was a certain softness in his gaze, especially when he looked at Nami.

Robin, always the diplomat, was the first to break the ice, extending a hand with a calm smile. “Nice to meet you, Smoker. We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Is that good or bad?” Smoker asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook Robin’s hand. His voice was deep but not hostile.

“Depends on who you ask,” I chimed in with a grin, trying to ease any tension. “Though if Nami brought you here, that already says a lot.”

Nami, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of the conversation focusing too much on her relationship, took control. “Smoker, these are my friends, Robin and Y/N. I think Y/N might sound familiar; she’s in the same department as Beckman.”

Smoker gave me a brief, assessing look before nodding. “I’ve heard about you as well. Nami has a special talent for gathering competent people… and for getting me into trouble,” he added with a faint smile.

“How’s work, Smoker?” I asked. “It must be interesting leading a team like Nami’s.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” he said, crossing his arms. “Though I can’t deny it’s always full of surprises.”

“That’s why you like it,” Nami interjected, regaining some of her usual sass. “Admit it, Smoker. Without me, your work would be boring as hell.”

Smoker let out a low laugh, as though he agreed but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of admitting it outright. “I wouldn’t say boring is the right word, but yeah, you definitely… add some dynamism to things.”

The chemistry between them was undeniable, and even though Smoker wasn’t the type to display affection openly, the way he spoke to and looked at Nami made it clear there was a solid bond between them.

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind me.

Shanks’ unmistakable voice interrupted the moment, resonating with that mix of mockery and confidence that always followed him.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Smoker at a party? And with a lady as company? This must be an early Christmas miracle.” His mischievous grin appeared as he approached with a drink in hand.

Smoker glanced at him sideways, crossing his arms as if trying to maintain his usual composure, though the corner of his mouth threatened to curl into a smile. “Look who’s talking. The man who uses work meetings as an excuse to flirt. To what do we owe the honor, Shanks? Another one of your conquests around here?”

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Oh, Smoker, you’re always so formal. And no, this isn’t a conquest. Although…” he turned toward me, raising an eyebrow and flashing a smile that could melt ice, “Y/N might say otherwise"

My face lit up like a torch, and I wanted to disappear right then and there. But before I could react, Nami, with her usual boldness, chimed in, pointing at Shanks with an accusatory look. “Are you seriously trying to rope Y/N into one of your crazy schemes? All because you can’t stand going to your boring meetings alone?”

“Boring? They’re unbearable!” Shanks threw up both hands, exaggerating his disdain, before winking at me. “But with good company, they can become… interesting.”

Smoker didn’t miss the chance to take a jab. “Interesting… Sure. How much do you bet he won’t last ten minutes in those meetings before sneaking out with some cheap excuse?”

Shanks feigned outrage, clutching his chest as if wounded. “How little you know me, my friend. I never sneak out. I just make everyone else want to wrap things up quickly so they can leave with me.”

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” Smoker replied, with a barely perceptible smirk.

The tension in the air wasn’t hostile but carried the weight of a deeply rooted friendly rivalry. Robin, ever the observer, smiled softly as she took a sip of her drink. “I wonder how such a peculiar friendship between the two of you even works.”

“It works because I’m the spark Smoker needs in his life,” Shanks replied without missing a beat. “Without me, he’d be buried in paperwork and black coffee.”

“And I’m the one who keeps this lunatic grounded,” Smoker countered, his deep voice laced with humor. “If it weren’t for me, he’d have been fired from every business venture he’s meddled in.”

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t know if that includes my next venture with you.” Shanks dropped the line casually but with enough intent to make Smoker raise an eyebrow and glance briefly at Nami.

“Careful, Shanks,” Smoker warned, his gaze steady but with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You mess with my team, and you’ll have problems.”

“Problems? Please, Smoker, you know I love challenges,” Shanks responded with a wink, leaning closer to me and adding in a lower voice, as if sharing a secret, “Besides, I always win.”

After a while, the group began to disperse a bit. Shanks leaned closer to me, lowering his voice. “What do you think of Mr. Serious?” he asked, clearly referring to Smoker.

“I think he’s perfect for Nami,” I replied, smiling as I glanced over at the redhead, who was busy arguing with Zoro about some irrelevant detail.

Shanks nodded, his eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah, they have good chemistry. But what about us?”

I blinked at him. “What about us?”

He smiled, leaning in a little closer, but before he could answer, Smoker reappeared behind us, his imposing presence cutting off whatever Shanks had been about to say.

“Everything all right here?” he asked, his tone calm, though his eyes went straight to Shanks.

“Absolutely perfect,” Shanks replied with a grin. “I’ll grab a drink for the lady.” He kissed my cheek and walked off, leaving me alone with Smoker.

“Be careful with that one,” Smoker said, his tone a mix of seriousness and a teasing edge I didn’t fully understand.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but no one tells me why,” I sighed.

“You’ve probably noticed he’s very fond of women… and all those games he plays. Just saying, tread carefully. Just in case,” he replied.

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

The day began with a sense of nervous anticipation. The address Beckman had sent me was imposing from the first glance. In front of me stood the headquarters of HawkEdge Industries, a multinational leader in advanced technology, artificial intelligence, and cutting-edge gadgets.

As I adjusted my jacket, a message from Beckman popped up on my phone:

"Head up to the 12th floor. Get ready to defend your project in front of some of the most important investors, CEOs, and executives in the industry. Today’s your chance to shine."

My heart skipped a beat. I had known this moment would come, but I hadn’t expected to face such a high-caliber committee so soon. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the building’s lobby, where everything exuded understated luxury and professionalism.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a strong, familiar hand stopped them. They reopened to reveal Shanks, his entry as casual as it was commanding. His carefree smile appeared instantly when he saw me, as if nothing else in the world mattered. He strolled in unhurriedly, pressing the button for the 12th floor without taking his eyes off me.

“Good morning,” he said warmly, his voice making it impossible to ignore his presence.

“Good morning,” I replied, trying to sound composed, even as the confined elevator seemed to amplify the tension between us. “Are you headed to the meeting too?”

The elevator began its smooth ascent, and the silence that followed was charged with something I couldn’t quite define. Shanks stepped closer, his eyes scanning mine with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he raised a hand—gentle but deliberate—and took mine.

“They let me know this morning,” he said, his voice low and resonant, as his thumb softly traced circles on the back of my hand. “But I don’t know if I can wait…”

My eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. “Wait for what?” I managed to ask, though my voice sounded weaker than I intended.

“For this,” he said simply.

Before I could process his words, Shanks leaned in and closed the distance between us. His lips met mine, and the world seemed to stop. His kiss was passionate and assured, as if he wanted to etch this moment into my memory. One hand slid gently upward from my thigh to my waist, firm yet unhurried, while the other held mine securely.

There was no rush, just intensity. The slow rhythm of the elevator seemed to match the deliberate way his lips moved against mine. I could feel his breath mingling with mine, and the nearness of his body sent my heartbeat racing.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes sparkled with the mischievous glint that was so quintessentially Shanks.

The elevator reached the 12th floor with a soft ding. Shanks stepped back but didn’t immediately let go of my hand. Instead, he used his free hand to adjust my hair, as if preparing me for what was to come.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he said with a wink that left me completely disarmed.

When the doors opened, his demeanor shifted seamlessly. He adopted his professional-yet-carefree air with such ease that it almost made me question if what had just happened was real. His words still echoed in my mind, and the warmth of his touch lingered on my skin.

I barely had time to collect myself before following him into the same meeting room he had entered. It was as impressive as it was intimidating: an enormous glass table surrounded by influential figures. At the head of the table sat Mihawk, exuding his usual commanding presence. At the back of the room, I spotted Ben Beckman, who gave me an encouraging nod.

The meeting room was designed to impress, with tall windows letting in streams of natural light. I tried not to dwell too much on the attentive faces watching me as I began presenting my project.

Taking a deep breath, I launched into my presentation, my voice steady as I explained the scope, methodology, and expected outcomes. As I progressed, I noticed several heads nodding in approval. But just as I started to feel more confident, the questions began.

The first came from a broad-shouldered man representing an international investment firm. His question was direct and critical, targeting a point I had carefully prepared for. I answered confidently, breaking my response into clear and concise parts. Then, another woman posed an even more technical question, which I tackled with the same composure.

But then, a deep and unmistakable voice broke in.

“An interesting approach,” Mihawk said with that calculated calm that made every word sound like a challenge. “But did you consider that your proposal might become obsolete within five years due to the rapid advancements in artificial intelligence? If so, how do you justify long-term investment?”

My throat went dry for a moment. I knew Mihawk never asked random questions. But before I could respond, a familiar voice cut in.

“With all due respect, Mihawk,” Shanks said, leaning forward with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I think you’re underestimating the flexibility of this project. Its modular approach ensures it can adapt to technological changes without losing efficiency.”

I noticed Mihawk raise an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the interruption.

“Flexibility? That sounds more like improvised strategy than solid planning,” Mihawk countered, directing his words more at Shanks than at me.

“Only if you look at it superficially,” Shanks replied, reclining in his chair. “But I’m sure the lady can explain how this modular design anticipates trends, isn’t that right?” he said, throwing me a playful wink.

My face flushed slightly at his comment, though no one else seemed to notice. Straightening my posture, I took back control.

“Actually,” I said with a faint smile, “the modular design is crucial precisely because of the fast-paced advancements in technology. It not only enables seamless integration of new innovations but also minimizes update costs. This ensures the investment remains competitive over time.”

The room fell silent for a moment before several attendees nodded in approval. Even Mihawk seemed to consider my response before offering a slight nod.

“Interesting,” Mihawk said, his gaze fixed on me. “However, I wonder how you plan to handle the potential monopolization by larger competitors. Fresh ideas often end up being absorbed by less… creative corporations.”

“You mean HawkEdge Industries?” Shanks quipped with a sly grin, leaning slightly toward Mihawk.

A quiet murmur rippled through the room. Mihawk’s icy gaze turned to Shanks.

“I was merely mentioning a possibility,” Mihawk replied evenly, though his tone carried a sharp edge.

“Of course, of course. Just as I was,” Shanks shot back, raising his glass of water in a mock toast before taking a sip.

My heart raced. Though their tension wasn’t overt, it was tangible in every exchange—a chess game where I was both an observer and a piece.

The head of Mihawk’s division, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.

“Y/N,” she said seriously, “I’d like to know how you plan to balance innovation with profitability. Innovation always involves risk, and companies aren’t always willing to take those risks. What would be your strongest argument to convince them?”

I took a deep breath, aware that this was a pivotal moment to prove myself.

“Innovation does come with risks,” I began, “but it’s also the only way to ensure sustainable growth. My approach focuses on demonstrating not only the technical viability of the project but also its measurable impact in terms of efficiency and return on investment. Additionally, by prioritizing collaboration with multiple strategic partners, the risk is distributed, making the adoption of these technologies safer and more accessible.”

This time, the silence that followed was filled with approval. Even Mihawk seemed to mull over my response before offering a slight nod.

When I finished my presentation, I let out a sigh of relief, and although my heart was still racing, a sense of satisfaction began to settle in. I had survived.

The businesspeople started to approach. Some shook my hand enthusiastically, while others shared words of admiration or interest in my project. Each positive comment energized me, but I also began to feel the exhaustion from having been under so much pressure for so long.

As the room began to empty, I stayed by the table collecting my things. That’s when I saw him. Mihawk, still as imposing as ever, walked toward me with calculated steps, his gaze locked on mine. For a moment, the air seemed to thicken.

“Y/N,” he said in that calm, authoritative voice that was impossible to ignore. “Your presentation was impressive. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I replied, trying to maintain composure in front of someone with such weight in the industry.

He crossed his arms, studying me with an intensity that made me feel like I was under a microscope again. But instead of a critique or a difficult question, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more casual.

“I’d like to propose something,” he said, leaning just a bit closer to me. “Tonight, there’s a private event at the Skylight Club. The most influential CEOs, investors, and executives from this industry and others will be there. It’ll be an exceptional opportunity for you to network and expand your professional connections.”

His proposal caught me off guard. For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. My mind quickly processed the implications: this was an invitation that could open doors for me, but it also meant stepping into a completely unfamiliar environment.

“That sounds… interesting,” I said finally, though my voice betrayed my doubt.

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, as if he already knew what was going through my mind. “I understand it might seem overwhelming,” he continued, “but don’t worry. I’ll be there. You can come with me. Consider it an investment in your future.”

The weight of his words hit me. This wasn’t just an invitation; it was a unique opportunity to connect with people who could make a difference in my career. Still, something in his tone, in his piercing gaze, made me hesitate.

“I don’t know if… I’d be up for it,” I murmured, almost to myself.

Mihawk let out a soft chuckle, low and almost inaudible. “You proved yourself today. Just make sure you take advantage of it.”

I stayed silent, biting my lip as I considered his offer. Before I could answer, Mihawk took another step closer, his presence even more intimidating but also strangely comforting.

“Come with me,” he said, and this time it wasn’t a suggestion, but a statement. “I’m confident it’ll benefit you, and I don’t often make mistakes.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but I finally nodded. “Alright, I’ll go.”

A faint smile appeared on his face, barely perceptible. “Perfect. One of our cars will pick you up at eight.”

Before I could say anything else, Mihawk nodded in a gesture of farewell and left the room, leaving behind a mix of intrigue, excitement, and a little nervousness. This invitation, this event… I knew it could change everything.

When I got home, I felt as though I was floating in a bubble of anticipation. The day had been long, but the thought of attending the event at the Skylight Club filled the air with an electric energy. I opened my closet, scanning my options, looking for something that balanced sophistication with a sense of confidence. Finally, I chose an elegant black dress with subtle fabric details that shimmered in the light, and heels that added a touch of boldness.

With just the right makeup and my hair styled, I took one last look in the mirror.

Outside, a black car waited, as imposing as the person who had sent it.

When I stepped out, the impeccably dressed driver opened the back door for me. The interior of the vehicle was just as elegant, with soft lighting and a subtle fragrance that spoke of luxury. I sank into the leather seat, trying to calm myself as the car glided smoothly through the illuminated streets.

When we arrived at the Skylight Club, the magnitude of the place was even more impressive than I had imagined. From the outside, the glass façade reflected the city lights, and the interior glow hinted at an exclusive, vibrant event. Inside, some of the businesspeople and executives I already knew were chatting with others I hadn’t yet identified. As I surveyed the room, Mihawk, with his imposing presence, shifted his gaze toward me, excused himself, and made his way to the entrance. A doorman greeted me, and just as I was about to step inside, a familiar figure appeared behind me.

Mihawk was there, waiting for me. He offered his arm with a slight bow of his head, and as I took it, I felt every eye in the room focus on us as we crossed the club’s doors.

The interior was a spectacle of luxury. Crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the soft music blended with the hum of refined conversations. Mihawk guided me with the ease of someone who belonged in that world, greeting influential people as he introduced me and included me in all his conversations. The curious glances were inevitable, but he seemed completely unbothered.

I was amazed by Mihawk’s ability to navigate conversations, always direct but never brusque. And while he addressed others with courtesy, his eyes often returned to me, watching me as if he were analyzing every one of my movements. There was something in his gaze that made me feel both admired and exposed.

In the middle of the evening, as I admired the view from one of the terraces, a familiar presence interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and to my surprise, there was Shanks. He was dressed in a dark suit, but with his usual rebellious touch: his shirt slightly unbuttoned and an air of carelessness that contrasted with the ambiance of the place. His eyes met mine, and a smile formed on his face.

“Well, well. Looks like the Skylight Club has raised its standards tonight,” Shanks said, glancing at Mihawk, who remained impassive beside me.

“Shanks,” Mihawk replied, his deep tone carrying more weight than the words he said.

The tension between them was palpable, as if the air itself was filled with an invisible but intense energy. And in the midst of it, I could feel their gazes competing with each other, not just to assert dominance, but for something else I couldn’t yet decipher.

Shanks, with his usual boldness, broke the silence first.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you here, Mihawk. And even less that this lady would agree to come with a bore like you.” His smile was a weapon: playful, but with a hidden intention that couldn’t go unnoticed.

“I suppose your presence here is less surprising,” Mihawk replied, his tone calm but sharp. “Where there’s wine and attention, there you are.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, more out of nerves than anything else. Both men turned their heads toward me, as if my reaction was the new battlefield. Mihawk’s golden eyes studied me, while Shanks’ warm and almost teasing gaze invited me to relax.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shanks asked, leaning toward me with that charming familiarity. “Don’t you think a night like this should be for enjoying and relaxing?”

“I am enjoying,” I said, trying to sound calm. “Although I must admit, you two make it… interesting.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, and Shanks let out a laugh that rang like light music against the distant conversations.

Before I could respond, Mihawk gently took my hand and placed it on his arm, as if claiming invisible territory. “I need to speak with Y/N, if you’ll excuse us… Shanks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. With that silent authority he was known for, he began guiding me toward another part of the club. Shanks didn’t protest, but I could feel his gaze fixed on our backs as we moved away. There was something in the way Mihawk led me, as though he was marking a boundary only he understood.

We arrived at a more private section of the club, where a glass wall offered an impressive view of the city. The nighttime landscape glittered with lights and movement, but the energy between the two of us was even more intense.

“I hope you don’t mind my interruption,” Mihawk said, breaking the silence. His voice was deep, almost whispered, and his golden eyes shone with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “Shanks has a knack for monopolizing attention, and that’s not always… appropriate.”

“Interruption? I’m not sure I’d call it that,” I responded, trying to match his calm tone. “Although I won’t deny that you two have quite a… unique dynamic.”

“Unique?” Mihawk let out a slight smile, barely perceptible, as his gaze returned to the view. “That’s a polite way to describe it.”

Before I could respond, he turned to look at me directly. His intensity was almost overwhelming, as though he was searching for something beyond the words.

“Y/N,” he said, pronouncing my name with a gravity that made me catch my breath. “We want to finance your project, I’ve already spoken to my boss. You’re in.”

Mihawk let his words hang in the air, as if waiting for the weight of his offer to settle in me.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked finally, trying to hide the disbelief in my voice.

His golden eyes held me with an intensity that took my breath away. “I don’t make decisions lightly, Y/N. I see potential in you and your project. And when I decide something, I do it with full determination.”

My mind was tangled in a mix of doubts and emotions. I knew what this opportunity could mean for me, for my plans. But accepting his help also came with implications.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice firmer than I felt. “I accept your offer.”

A slight smile appeared on his lips, a gesture as rare as it was meaningful. “I knew you’d make the right decision.”

Before I could say anything more, I excused myself. “I need a moment. I’m going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll wait for you,” he replied calmly.

I walked down the club’s elegant hallway, my heels softly echoing against the marble floor. I needed a second to breathe, to sort my thoughts. The night was proving much more intense than I had anticipated, and now I had to process the fact that Shanks wasn’t just in my life, but Mihawk was involved in my project too. I wasn’t sure how I would manage their rivalry.

When I returned, my eyes scanned the room for Mihawk. However, what caught my attention was a familiar figure sitting on one of the velvet sofas. Shanks.

He wasn’t alone.

An elegant woman sat beside him, wearing a fitted dress that seemed tailor-made to accentuate every curve. Her perfectly styled hair fell in soft waves, and her smile carried a confidence that bordered on arrogance: Elisabeth.

My stomach twisted instantly. As she spoke animatedly, leaning forward to say something that made him laugh. That laugh I knew all too well.

A fire of jealousy and frustration ignited in my chest. I had no right to feel this way, right? Shanks and I weren’t anything official. But that didn’t make it any less painful to see him with her.

For a moment, I hesitated. I could turn around and avoid the scene entirely. Pretend I hadn’t seen it. But something in me refused to back down.

I slowly approached, maintaining my composure despite the inner turmoil. Shanks looked up when he noticed me, and a genuine smile crossed his face.

Before anyone could even react, Elisabeth turned her head toward me, her eyes studying me with a mix of surprise and something else… a hint of irritation.

“Oh, dear,” she said in her sweet voice, clearly feigning courtesy. “What a coincidence to see you here. Shanks and I were just reminiscing about old times. Right, darling?” she continued, placing her hand on Shanks’ arm.

My jaw tightened, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “Old times? How interesting. Though I thought that was just the short version of saying ‘the past.’”

Elisabeth’s smile remained, but I saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes. “The past is never as far away as we think, darling. Isn’t that right, Shanks?”

Shanks scratched his beard distractedly, as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

Elisabeth seized the ambiguity as an opportunity. She leaned slightly toward him, with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. “Oh, please, don’t be modest. Do you remember that night at the harbor, with the violinist? You always told me it was one of the best nights of your life.”

My jaw clenched further, and I had to make a conscious effort not to shoot her a look that betrayed what I was feeling. Shanks seemed visibly uncomfortable, clearly realizing that Elisabeth wasn’t just talking about the past, but throwing a direct provocation.

The implication was crystal clear, but before I could strike back, an unmistakable presence interrupted the conversation.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Mihawk’s calm, deep voice resonated behind me, and the mere sound of it seemed to freeze the air. I turned and saw him approaching, impeccable and serene, as if the tension in the room had no effect on him.

---------------TO BE CONTINUED--------------

[all-pacas]

a list of all the times foreman and chase actively shaded one another in s1-3, because i think it's very funny,

histories:

PATIENT: [Foreman] doesn't like me. I can tell. CHASE: That's okay. He doesn't like me, either.

sports medicine:

CHASE: House says you were lying. I believe him. FOREMAN: …What’s that? You got a little wet smudge at the end of your nose!

control:

CAMERON [to Chase]: He’s not gonna fire you. FOREMAN: I’d fire you. Bye bye. CHASE: If I screw up, the patient dies… I’ll never get another job. FOREMAN: So go stick your head between your legs and lick your wounds in Gstaad.

mob rules:

CAMERON: Chase has a big mouth. FOREMAN: Yeah. He's probably the one who ratted to Vogler. [of note: Chase did obviously rat to Vogler, but Cameron spends these same episodes defending him and sure he isn't the rat; Foreman immediately jumps to "fire Chase"]

heavy:

PATIENT: I’m thirsty. CAMERON: Just a little bit longer [with this procedure], and you’ll be done. FOREMAN: Like Dr. Chase.

[later, House asks who Foreman would fire:]

FOREMAN: Chase. HOUSE: What — because he screwed up an angio a month ago? FOREMAN: Anyone can make a mistake. HOUSE: Right, it’s the money. You resent it, but you’re going to tell me he doesn’t need the job. FOREMAN: He doesn’t appreciate the job. HOUSE: He was ready to go three rounds with Cameron for it. FOREMAN: He wants the job. He just doesn’t appreciate it. There’s nothing wrong with just wanting to hang out, but this is not the place to do it.

babies and bathwater:

FOREMAN: [under his breath] Here, pussy, pussy, pussy. CHASE: I didn’t do anything. FOREMAN: Exactly my point. CHASE: You wanted me to yell at him? What the hell would that have achieved? What, is he going to jump into his time machine and fix everything? FOREMAN: When a dog dumps on the floor, do you pat its head and call it a genius? No, you smack it in the nose with a newspaper! CHASE: Dogs can learn things, House can’t. FOREMAN: Coward. CHASE: Child.

acceptance:

FOREMAN: If someone asks you to describe me to them, what’s the first thing you’d tell them? CHASE: Insecure.

tb or not tb:

CAMERON: I wrote your people a check last month. PATIENT: Oh, well… write us another one. FOREMAN: Talk to Chase, he’s rich. CHASE: My dad, not me. [i think offering chase's money to a stranger counts as shade]

the mistake:

STACY: Why did Chase screw up? FOREMAN: Because he doesn't give a crap about patients. STACY: He always gets positive patient reviews. FOREMAN: Yeah. He smiles all 84 of his teeth, tells them his tonsil story. STACY: It's a nice story. FOREMAN: He still has his tonsils! As soon as he's out of the room, which is as soon as he can be out of the room, he starts in on the trash talk. Thinks not giving a crap makes him like House. Like it’s something to aspire to. Am I going to have to testify? STACY: I… won't be encouraging them to call you.

failure to communicate:

CHASE: Even if he fell, drug use is far more likely. I’m ordering a tox screen. FOREMAN: Chase, we're not done with the differential. CHASE: You're not my boss. FOREMAN: I'm House's boss, House is your boss. The math is pretty simple. CHASE: Are you signing my paychecks? Are you hiring or firing? FOREMAN: This is not about that. CHASE: The only thing you've been asked to do is supervise House in case he does something insane.

distractions:

FOREMAN: Plug it in. CHASE: You plug it in. FOREMAN: Fine, give me the cord. [under his breath:] Wuss.

who's your daddy?

[during a procedure] HOUSE: Chase, high right atrium, please. CHASE: Her heart’s fragile after that last attack. The chances of tachycardia – HOUSE: You have my permission to blame Foreman at any negligence trial. [chase does as he's told]

cane and able:

CHASE: How could I screw up a simple bleeding time test? FOREMAN: Maybe you were abducted; lost time. [later:] HOUSE: So you’re saying Chase did screw up. CHASE: Or Foreman screwed up. FOREMAN: Big hand points to minutes. Maybe you got them mixed up? [later:] CHASE: We’ve had three results that haven’t been consistent. One of them must be wrong. FOREMAN: Or two of them.

fools for love:

[house is trying to bet foreman on wilson's new girlfriend. foreman hasn't accepted the bet:]

HOUSE: We could spend all day arguing whether we bet or not. Give me the hundred bucks. CHASE: Come on Foreman, pay up. He won! Or we could just never finished the DDX.

[later:]

HOUSE: Aha! Brochure to a jazz festival in the Poconos this weekend. CHASE: Wilson likes jazz. Foreman, pay the man.

[later:] CHASE: If [the patients] can live here without killing each other, they must really be in love. It’s tiny. FOREMAN: Then how come it’s taking you so long to search it? CHASE: Box of condoms in his jacket. FOREMAN: I know you’re poor now, but buy your own.

[later:]

CHASE: Hey, Foreman, can you wear the beeper for a couple hours this weekend? [off his look:] What? FOREMAN: We just destroyed two peoples’ lives. CHASE: I’m not allowed to run errands any more? FOREMAN: I’d like to see some sign that it affects you, or that you recognize that it affects other people. CHASE: So are you going to wear the beeper or not?

finding judas:

CHASE: I wasn't kissing his ass. FOREMAN: It just looked that way from our angle. You on your knees, House bending over. CHASE: He predicted the pancreatitis. CAMERON: It's his dad's fault. CHASE: My dad was an ass. CAMERON: But you did everything he wanted you to and, in return, you got everything you wanted. CHASE: Yeah! It's that simple. CAMERON: His strategy worked. Dad got him a cushy job, paid for his cushy life. CHASE: Cut me out of his cushy will. [cameron looks surprised/apologetic here; foreman continues:] FOREMAN: I told you, just his nature. Poor guy's hardwired to kiss ass.

[later:]

CHASE: Tritter finally froze my accounts. FOREMAN: Really? CHASE: You surprised? Why wouldn't he? FOREMAN: I figured if he was singling you out, you must have done something different. CHASE: What? Like talking? FOREMAN: Yeah. And now that he's frozen your accounts, you probably will. You need the cash, right? CHASE: He doesn't freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. He does freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. [foreman shrugs]

top secret:

FOREMAN: House would do Wilson before you'd do Chase. CAMERON: No, you would do House and Wilson before I do Chase. Now can we get back to work? CHASE: She did me once! FOREMAN: [laughing] She was stoned!

act your age:

CHASE: For the record, Cameron's the one who broke it off. FOREMAN: Not interested. No masses in the hypothalamus. CHASE: I wanted more. She didn't share my feelings. FOREMAN: I feel like I'm in a similar position.

resignation:

CHASE: So, why are you leaving? Or is it just some sort of power play? FOREMAN: You can have my parking space. My locker. CHASE: Is it about House? FOREMAN: Let me get all sensitive and confide in you. CHASE: Why wouldn't you want to tell me? FOREMAN: I don't like you. Never have, never will. You want me to share some more?

the jerk:

FOREMAN: I'll do it. But I've got a job interview after work. Anything comes up later, you guys handle it. CAMERON: Need a peer recommendation? FOREMAN: Thanks. [he looks at chase, who sort of shrugs] CHASE: Cameron's should suffice.

[later:]

CAMERON: Foreman's interview in New York got screwed up. CHASE: I heard. CAMERON: Foreman thought it was House, House thought it was Cuddy. Cuddy thought it was Wilson, Wilson thought it was me. CHASE: And you think it was me? [chuckles] God… you think I… sabotaged Foreman? I don't even want him here. CAMERON: I know. CHASE: Then why would I do…? CAMERON: I think you sabotaged Foreman just to sabotage Foreman.

[preet-01]

Since it's the Bills bye week and the Vegas GP, here's a quick little one-shot of Daniel going to Buffalo for the weekend that I wrote at 2am while watching quali

Though he stays in Los Angeles for the LA Kings game, Daniel is quick to leave sunny California for rainy Buffalo. “It’s bye week, I could come over there-” 

“I like your bed better than the one I have here,” Daniel cuts off Josh when they’re talking on the phone. He’s technically not in Vegas, but it’s just a short 4 hour drive which is completely doable and Daniel wants to put as much distance as he can between him and the streets he should’ve been racing on. 

“It’s dreary here and cold, baby,” Josh retorts. 

“More the reason for me to have you all over me,” Daniel replies, unable to help the grin that takes over his face. Thoughts of Josh did tend to distract him from everything and right now Daniel needed the distraction. 

“Want me to pick you up from the airport? I’ll get a sign and flowers, the whole shebang,” Josh jokes, but still half serious. Daniel knows he only needs to say the word and Josh would do it. Hell, he’d made an offhand comment about Josh promoting Enchante once and the younger man now took every opportunity to wear Enchante for his pre-game tunnel walks. 

“Yeah?” Daniel asks, “save the flowers for another time, bring a blanket.” 

He should’ve known that Josh would take his words to heart and find the most comfortable blanket in existence to greet Daniel with. “Hi, baby,” Josh says, wrapping the warm blanket around Daniel’s shoulders as he pulls him into a hug. It’s innocent and platonic and exactly how everyone would expect them to greet one another in such a public setting. Later, when they’re in the confines of Josh’s home, there’ll be a kiss and quick tugging off of clothes as they stumble from the front door to the closest bed or sofa. For now, Daniel breathes in the warmth and comfort of Josh’s hug. 

“Missed ya,” Daniel mumbles despite the fact it’s not been very long since they last saw one another. Not long since they’d broken a table that Josh had Daniel bent over on. “Wanted to celebrate with you again,” he continues. 

“Want me to put you through a table again, baby?” Josh questions with a smirk as he pulls away just the slightest, letting in cold air between them much to Daniel’s dismay. It’s a sign that they should put a move on it and get to Josh’s home so Daniel can make grabby hands at a naked Josh instead of just chasing the warmth of a hug. 

____

“It’s unfair, you know,” Josh says suddenly. Daniel can’t begin to think what Josh thinks is unfair, not when they’re both naked and Daniel is giving him a blowjob. 

“Hhm?” Daniel questions with a simple hum, absolutely refusing to take his mouth off of Josh’s dick to properly ask a question using words. He loosely wonders if he should be offended that Josh is thinking of something else while he’s got Daniel sucking him off. 

“I can’t have sponsors on my uniforms like all the other guys you talk to,” Josh replies. And well, Daniel’s less offended since Josh is still thinking of him…and the other men that Daniel talks to?

“What?” Daniel questions, pulling off Josh’s dick with a pop. “Is this about Hunter?” he questions with a raised brow. Josh was far from the first of Daniel’s… friends… to reach out about the sponsor placement on Hunter’s racesuit. There had been many questions on how it got approved and what his individual sponsorship looked like. Daniel had ignored those texts in favor of partying in LA with the boys and planning a week-long trip to Buffalo that had Josh all over him – the very thing that was not currently happening due to the sponsor logo placement. 

“Hunter? That’s his name? Really?” Josh questions. 

“So why are we talking about sponsors when I could be sucking your dick?” Daniel inquires as he glances at Josh’s dick – still slicked with precum and spit and beaconing Daniel. 

“I just, they get to wear parts of you, your symbol, while competing. And I can’t do that,” Josh replies. He tugs Daniel onto his lap, groaning at the pressure it puts on his cock, “fuck,” he mumbles. 

Slowly moving his hips back and forth, Daniel latches onto Josh’s neck. Biting and sucking on the sensitive skin, Daniel leaves his mark for all to see. Though only a few people would know that Daniel had made the mark instead of someone else. But they would know. Him and Josh. They would know that Daniel had marked up Josh just moments after having Josh’s dick in his mouth. “There,” Daniel says, “now can I go back to sucking your dick?” 

____

Saturday night comes and goes with Daniel in Josh’s bed. 

His clothes are lost somewhere in the expanse of Josh’s closet  and have been since the first day in Buffalo. Handprints and love bites cover the most intimate parts of Daniel, just as Josh’s inner thighs and mouth are slightly red due to beard burn. 

“Do you wanna watch the race? I heard Max could-” Josh gets cut off with a kiss. 

Daniel doesn’t want to think about Formula One or how it’s happening in Vegas as they speak or Max potentially winning his fourth championship. RIght now, the cars should be making their way to the grid with Max lining up fifth alongside Lando – his closest competition to the championship. He’d gotten front row seats to Max’s first championship win and the controversy behind it all, he’d been racing when Max won the second, and he’d watched the third championship win from the comfort of his home. And he wants to support Max, witness him win another championship, but Daniel also knows that watching a full race would only further hurt him and drive the sharp knife of Red Bull’s politics deeper into his heart. 

“Could we just lay here?” Daniel asks, cuddling closer to Josh. “Just wanna be here with you,” he adds. Daniel doesn’t want to think of the sport he’d dedicated his life to or the team he’d given his blood, sweat, and tears to for the majority of his career.

“Anything you want, baby,” Josh replies, throwing an arm and leg over Daniel so he’s locked in place. Daniel smiles as he presses a kiss against one of Josh’s pecs. 

Tomorrow, he’ll watch some of the race highlights and send the correct messages to everyone, but for tonight he’s going to focus on the naked man he’s sharing a bed with and desperately wants to introduce to his mother. 

[cafesweetvn]

I FINISHED THE ALTERNATE BAD END ROUTE!!! I STILL GOTTA FINISH THE OTHER BAD END(it’s basically the same thing just a little different!) AND THEN EVERYTHING ELSE I MENTIONED EARLIER!! I did also get TWO(technically three) cg’s planned out too for the bad end!! Gotta say, probably one of the most gruesome things I’ve EVER written before LMAOOO the word count is at 2904 rn!!

Also! I know I had planned for the demo to be a day and a half but I think I’m just going to make it a day and then heading into work the next day! This is basically my first project(I had barely had any ideas for pacing when it came to Mine so I wasn’t sure where to start) and so I don’t want to overwhelm myself! Speaking of days I haven’t really planned out how many days I wanted there to be, there will definitely be more then five days(I can’t make a short story to save my life) I’ll get to a rough outline of events and routes after I finish writing/release the first day!

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[silkscream]

natural devotion

ੈ✩ synopsis: gojo finds you, his ex-wife, in a sketchy dive bar. he almost doesn't recognize you.

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), previous arranged marriage, ex-husband!gojo, clanleader!gojo, rough bathroom sex, semi-public sex, drunk sex, oral, fingering + penetration, light choking, gojo is.... weird idk how to explain. he's just strange and cold and possessive and so odd

ੈ✩ wc: 3.2k

ੈ✩ a/n: literally nobody asked for this. also it's unedited. sorry

Gojo thinks he sees a ghost when he sees you.

At least, he thinks it’s you.

You don’t see him yet, so he takes the liberty to scan you over more thoroughly. You’re not wearing anything like the simple, modest attire he remembered you donning around his estate. Instead, you’re in a form-fitting crop top and the tiniest mini skirt Gojo has ever seen. He’s not sure if it even classifies as a skirt.

Interesting.

He takes a breath as he sits down next to you, interrupting your conversation with the bartender to offer his card. You turn to look at him and you laugh.

“Put hers on my tab,” Gojo says.

“Always the gentleman.”

“You know I’ll always take care of you. Even if we aren’t married anymore.”

You could scoff at that, but you decide to be polite. He’s as candid as he’s always been. It used to humiliate you, but you aren’t the same docile little wife you used to be. You also realize his gesture could be interpreted as tender, which isn’t something you were ever used to in your marriage.

He was a cold man and it was a marriage of convenience.

Or perhaps he was only cold to you. You would watch how he would interact at social gatherings and clan parties, his charisma infecting entire rooms. Toothy grins that shone as brightly as his hair. Always loud, animated, and magnetic.

To you, he was mostly indifferent.

He was never outwardly mean, but he was constantly occupied with missions. It almost felt as if you weren’t married at all. You enjoyed speaking to him when he was around, though. There were moments when you could almost picture yourself being his friend, but then he would be away and come back cold. 

When you asked for a divorce, he complied without a blink. Even after you were free from becoming an incubator for the Gojo clan’s next heir, something in your chest ached at how easily Gojo signed the papers.

And now, he’s tipsy in a bar with you and more tuned into your presence than ever. When he looks at you, there’s a lingering that you convince yourself you’re hallucinating.

Small talk with him is odd. He’s much more complicated than that, but here you are, discussing trivial things right now. If he’s remarried yet (he hasn’t). If you honed in on your cursed technique (you have).

It’s terribly odd. Like talking to a stranger that you’ve only met in a dream.

“I thought you’d have better taste in bars,” he drawls, sipping a Cosmo. It was annoyingly endearing, the way he wasn’t the kind of man to have a glass of whiskey despite acting like it.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a regular. This place is full of perverts.”

“Does that include you?”

Gojo grins. “Not like some of these guys. You would’ve gotten roofied if I didn’t sit down. And your outfit certainly isn’t helping.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” you scoff.

“It is one. You’re a sight to behold. Never saw you in anything like this when we were married.”

“Your clan would have my head. I assume you would, too,” you mutter. 

His eyes are taking you in, flickering between your face and your body. It would make you uncomfortable if you weren’t already three beers in. 

“I wouldn’t be angry. I just don’t promise that I would’ve kept my hands to myself.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“I think this is the most forward you’ve ever been to me.”

“You were so timid back then,” he smirks. He places a hand on your knee, his thumb tracing the skin. “Such a nervous little girl. There were times I assumed you were cheating on me, the way you were so rigid with me.”

You remember being obedient and quiet. Perhaps rigid, but you had only followed his lead, pushing yourself away from him just because he was doing it to you first. You know you shouldn’t apologize or feel guilty for your lack of intimacy with him, but the way he teases you makes your face heat up.

“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” you frown.

“Good,” he smiles. It almost seems genuine. “I wouldn’t have let anyone have you, anyway.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise.

Why did you let me divorce you, then?

His fingers are tracing circles into the skin of your thigh absentmindedly. The flutter in your chest threatens to pull on your lungs when you notice.

“You’re so different now,” he notes.

“Not really.”

“I don’t just mean the way you look, by the way. Your eyes are sharper. Posture better. Not a meek little thing anymore, huh?”

You could flush at how he belittles you, but the praise gets to your head. 

“Huh. You’re the opposite. You look and act the same as when I last saw you.”

He laughs. “I always liked when you talked back, you know. Anyone ever told you can be a bit of a brat?”

You raise a brow. “Yes.”

His breath smells sweet. Tongue like a candy apple from the sugared liquor in his glass, you were sure. You don’t wince when he gets closer to you.

“Yeah? And how do they deal with it?”

You bite the inside of your cheek before entertaining him.

“Everyone’s a little different,” you mumble.

You miss the flicker of jealousy in his eyes. You’re too distracted by the shape of his mouth.

“What do you think I’d do?” Gojo tilts his head as if he’s taunting you.

“I don’t– what?” you stammer. 

“You’re a smart girl. Use your imagination.”

He grins again. Everything about him is sickeningly sweet. It’s not a side of him you’ve ever seen directed at you. There’s almost a fondness there. You would only see it before in rare moments, usually when Gojo was a little drunk. You suppose he could be drunk now and you’re almost grateful despite yourself. He would always get a little handsy, especially if you were dressed up for his clan events. He’d have his hand only on your leg, crawling up the skirt of your dress. During times like those, he felt like a real husband.

They were always such fleeting moments. Even years after the divorce, certain memories could still make you dizzy. 

Your mouth goes dry. You compose yourself. 

“Sorry. I, uh, have to use the bathroom.”

“Gonna use your imagination in there?” Gojo jokes.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, if only to humor him.

You don’t realize the hole you’ve put yourself in once you utter the words. The invitation you’ve given him. Unfortunately, you’re also still reeling from the conversation, so you forget to lock the door of the handicapped bathroom. 

To be fair, Gojo did try to convince himself not to follow you for the entire three minutes you were gone. But he’s never been that good of a man. It was your fault for being so damn tempting in the first place. But he had tried to be good even in the very beginning – he was polite, kept his hands to himself. Bought you anything you wanted. 

He even let you leave him. After seeing you tonight, he now knows it was a grave mistake.

“Satoru.”

“Hey.” 

He closes the door gently and locks it. Leans against the door with his arms crossed as if waiting for you to do a magic trick from the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Why are you–”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to follow you,” he tuts. 

Okay. Fine. He had a point.

“This must be exciting for you, yeah? Seeing me lose it over you?”

You can’t form words. Despite the fire in your belly, you aren’t completely sure what his angle is here. He steps forward and backs you into the wall. He could pin you to it, easily.

His hands rest on your thighs, riding up the length of the pathetic excuse you call a skirt. 

“You’re trying to kill me with this,” he huffs. “Just making everything so… difficult.”

He almost sounds disappointed in you. There is a rush of desperation flooding your brain like a knee-jerk reaction. You can feel your heart about to burst.

“Sorry,” you mumble. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.

“I was really trying to behave, too,” Gojo sighs. “Wouldn’t want to scare my ex-wife away with how much I missed her. Christ.”

“You– what?”

“Yeah, baby. How could I not miss this face?” He strokes your cheek. You’re convinced he’s been possessed by someone else, maybe. Mistaken you for a different stranger.

Your knees are already going weak. He leans in to whisper in your ear. The hand stroking your cheek holds your chin, squishing your face slightly.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

“I… I did,” you whisper.

“Good,” he smiles softly. “I like knowing you still think about me.”

The proximity is driving him insane, but he’s always liked to play with you. Sometimes he would be a little mean on purpose, but never enough to be considered bullying. He just enjoyed watching you squirm back then — it was adorable how dedicated you were to playing the part of a doting wife. He wanted to see you crack, maybe beg for his attention, but you were always too stubborn.

His cock throbs knowing that you’re putty in his hands now. Melting against him, soft and willing like a blooming flower. God, he needs a taste. He nibbles on your earlobe and grins when he feels your breath hitch.

“I kind of wanted to just take you right there on the bar. Let all those creeps see how good I’d fuck you.”

Your eyes flutter rapidly at his words. He has pinned you to the wall now. You’re close enough to feel him press against you, bullet-hard. A little more teasing and he’d pull the trigger. 

He kisses down your neck, mapping it out with his teeth. He’s barely touched you and you feel like an elastic band about to snap.

“S-Satoru–”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You pant lightly. You’re preening into his touch. Lightning makes roots down the center of your spine. You forget what you wanted to say.

“What is it? You want me to take care of you?” He pulls back this time to look you directly in the eyes. His expression softens just a second at the lovestruck look in your eyes. Tender and glistening.

You nod slowly.

“I need your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” your voice shakes. “I want you to take care of me.”

He hums, pleased. The desire in his face is so new to you despite having been his wife. He’d only fucked you once before, on your anniversary. You were too tempting and he, admittedly, was tired of punishing himself by not allowing himself the pleasure of having you.

He could see you now, sprawled on the tatami mat, how you smelled like cherry blossoms. Flashes of images reeling in his mind, every little sound you made. He’d fucked his fist to the memory of it all too often after you left him. 

He felt honored to have the real thing in his hands right now.

He kisses you like he needs you to breathe. You feel blood rush to your ears, the music from the bar muffled. All you could hear were the sound of his grunts, the slickness of his tongue in between your lips. 

He spins you around abruptly, bending you over the sink. Hand on your throat, teeth in the tendon of your shoulder.

“Look at how pretty you are,” he rasps. 

You whimper, feeling his hard cock rut against the curve of your ass. He laughs when he swipes his hand underneath your skirt, the fabric of your underwear already wet. 

You gasp sharply when he eases a finger in without any resistance. He swallows the sounds you make, craning your neck towards his face with his hand while the other works another finger in. Your stomach flips, all boiling heat when he curves his fingers in just the right spot. As if he’d done it a dozen times.

“Dirty girl,” Gojo mumbles. “Getting off to her ex-husband's fingers all the way up in her cunt. In a fucking dive bar bathroom, too.”

When you whine, he only scissors into you harder and laughs. It kills you how much it turns you on, even while knowing he’s being cruel. You would fantasize about it all the time back then. Needed him to make you a real wife so you could forget yourself. You close your eyes, groaning.

“S-Satoru, I–”

“You’re not gonna cum just from that, are you?” You hear a grin in his voice.

“Fuck, please —”

His fingers leave you, making you whine in protest. The sopping mess of your arousal trickles down your inner thighs. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to cum in my mouth.”

Gojo drops to his knees and flips up your skirt, pulling your soiled underwear down your legs at the same time. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning when you feel his tongue prodding at your cunt. 

“I always regret not tasting you on our anniversary,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “You’re sweeter than I imagined.”

“Imagined?” you squeak out.

“You thought I stopped wanting you just because I signed a piece of paper?”

“I didn’t – oh, fuck —”

You’re distracted by the plunge of his tongue into cunt. He sucks at the hood of your clit and you feel yourself jerk involuntarily. He’s fond of your sensitivity. He used to want to take advantage of it.

You let a particular loud whine and he hums, lapping up every drop of your arousal. He sucks at your clit in earnest while he brings his fingers back to you, immediately reaching for the spot he knows will make you see stars. 

You cum so hard that you nearly bang your head against the sink faucet. Your head is spinning from the impact of it, dizzied on the high that came from a clan head in your cunt. The alcohol wasn’t helping.

He’s quick to get to his feet and kiss you so you can taste yourself. He tugs your hair and you arch for him like a taut bowstring.

“Feel how much I want you, baby?” You can feel his dick against you, something like shame flooding your system at how much of a mess you were. Getting his nice slacks all damp with your slick.

“Please,” you beg. 

He doesn’t think twice once he hears your plea. He unbuckles his belt quickly and slides down his pants. He collects your wetness in between your folds to stroke his dick. 

It feels like he’s gouging your stomach when he fucks into you. Bigger than any man you’ve had, still. Gojo likes that he was your first and he’s decided now that he will be your last.

“Tight,” Gojo mutters. You know it’s a compliment but your face heats up nonetheless. His hand around your throat is only more confirmation of his want. 

He smacks your ass with his other hand, looking down to admire the reddish mark he left. Brute. He grins when you squeeze him tighter after it. He notices your eyes struggling to stay open and gives a particularly hard thrust just to see your jaw go slack. Eyes in half-moons, boiled by the heat of your thumping heart. Blood pumping to every soft spot in your body, your brain.

“Satoru,” you gasp.

“Yeah, baby?”

“F-Feels so…”

You inhale sharply, eyes widening when his hand snakes down to pinch your clit. Your hair’s wrapped his knuckles now. A ribbon around a wedding gift. He liked when you used to wear ribbons around your neck. Liked imagining you all wrapped up for him. 

Satoru was so beautiful when he did anything, but he was angelic when he was fucking you. Cheeks all carmine, mouth wide open. It was something you wanted to get used to.

“You keep clenching, Jesus,” he grunts. Teeth at your nape, at your shoulder. Blue eyes staring at you in the mirror.

“Satoru, I’m close,” you whine.

“Hold it.”

“I– I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. You’re a good girl, even if you are dressed like a little slut.”

You whimper at that, your cunt pulsating at his words. Muscles strung out like a wet rag. You nearly cry when he pulls out of you, manhandling you to turn. He picks you up to set you down on the cold sink counter, the porcelain soothing the bruising on your ass.

He groans as he pumps himself slowly, admiring the way his tip catches on your entrance. You squirm a little, impatient, and he kisses you. It feels invasive, almost, from how rough he plays with you, sucks on your tongue. He takes the opportunity to ram into you, enjoying the way the pitched whine rolling out of your mouth gets tasted by him.

“Missed my cock, didn’t you?” he smirks. “Still the best you’ve ever had, right?”

“Y-Yes,” you sob.

His gut fucking melts.

Your mascara was getting smudged, not smudgy like he’d see in porn, but blending in the rim of your wet eyes. Dew-drop lashes.

“Feels best like this. Wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he pants. 

Your hands are on his shoulders, clinging onto him. He’s so much bigger than you, especially like this — your legs spread, his big hands gripping your thigh hard enough to hurt a little. You moan. Your voice sounds girlier than usual, wounded. You don’t recognize yourself. 

“Oh, it’s too deep—”

“No such thing,” Satoru snickers. “You’re – hah – so good at this. Good girl.”

“S-Satoru, it’s too–”

“You love it. Tell me.”

“F-fuck — I,” – you struggle mindlessly, voice strained – “I love it…”

“I know, baby,” he coos. Kisses your forehead, which is hilariously domestic and gentle considering the mean pace of his hips. 

He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You’re so fucked out. He’d ask you to take a picture if he wasn’t so focused on making you cum.

“You want to cum, don���t you?” he taunts.

“Please, please, please—”

“Okay, honey,” he chuckles. “You can cum now.”

Your moan is louder than expected as your cunt squeezes him impossibly tight. You can feel all the warmth rush out of you. You really are a sight to behold, which is why Satoru cums immediately after you. You feel like you might pass out. 

He kisses you all over your face, mumbling praise as you come back to your body. It’s all most nonsensical, but you swear you hear I love you. Your half-lidded eyes close as he envelops you with his arms, mascara streaking his shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by a succession of loud knocks.

“Other people need to piss!”

Satoru scoffs, pulling away from you to slide his pants back up and buckle them. He mouths something to you that you don’t understand and leans down to grab your underwear to give to you.

“Just a second!” Satoru yells. “My wife is sick, had a bit too much to drink. Almost done.”

“Wife?” you whisper, bewildered.

Satoru eyes soften in amusement. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

[anniebeemine]

okay, big brown eyes, whatever you say- s.r. x reader

“Why don’t you ever argue with me?”

The question catches you off guard. You glance at Spencer, who’s standing there, awaiting your answer, his brow slightly furrowed as if he’s been pondering this for a while. You blink a few times, shrugging casually as you settle back against the couch.

“There’s nothing to argue about,” you say, the words coming out simple, matter-of-fact.

But Spencer doesn’t like your response. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense and the way his lips press into a thin line. He crosses his arms, his eyes shifting away from you and toward the floor as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I know you hate it when I leave my socks everywhere,” he says, his voice quieter but insistent. “And when I leave the dishes next to the sink instead of in it. I see you tense up when I do it, but you never say anything. Why don’t you just tell me?”

You’re trying to stay engaged in the conversation, but your focus begins to drift. The way the sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow on Spencer, draws your attention. His face is lit up in such a way that it highlights the specks of hazel in his eyes, the soft planes of his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips as he speaks.

He looks so beautiful when he talks, even when he's frustrated. There’s something about the way he’s so earnest, so concerned about something as mundane as socks and dishes that makes you smile. You love how much he cares, even when it’s over the little things.

Before you know it, you're smiling at him without even realizing it.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Spencer’s voice breaks through your thoughts, snapping you back to the conversation.

Your gaze shifts back to his face, and you realize you’ve completely drifted off into your own world.

“I, uh,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks flush slightly, “I wasn’t... I mean, I was listening, but...”

“But you’re smiling,” he says, confused but amused, his frustration beginning to soften. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was just... I don’t know, I was thinking about how much I love you. You’re standing there all serious, trying to figure out why I don’t argue with you about socks and dishes, and I just... I love that you care about that. And I got distracted by how good you look in the sunlight.”

Spencer’s expression softens even more, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head slightly, but there’s a warmth in his eyes now. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” you reply with a grin, feeling the tension from the conversation melt away.

“But seriously,” he says, his tone gentler now as he sits down beside you. “You can tell me when something bothers you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it all in just because you don’t want to argue.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I know. And I promise I’ll try to be better about that. But sometimes... it’s not worth arguing over. I just enjoy being with you, and the little things don’t matter as much when I think about how much you mean to me.”

Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Well, if that’s the reason, I guess I can live with a few unspoken complaints about my socks.”

You chuckle softly. “Just a few.”

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[rqnarok]

LATCH | pervy!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: you come up at logan at night and he finally gives in to his desires. 

content warnings/tags: smut, mdni! little to no plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. pervy!logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, princess, etc). logan calls himself ‘old man’. fingering (f receiving). innocence kink. not proofread. wc: 1,5k

Logan Howlett is not a good man. 

“I’m not a good man, sweets.”

He has not been a good man in years. 

Still, when he scoops your sobbing figure in his arms on that day at the X-Mansion, he feels like a good man. 

“C’mon. Let’s go, kid. I’ll take care of you.”

Ever since then, you look up to him as if he is some kind of savior. A hero. A good man. 

And he starts to believe that. 

At first, it started oh, very casual—innocently. By working himself to death for the sake of your comfort. Earning money so that he could see that smile on your pretty face when he gives you gifts: new dresses, books, food—anything you want, really. He’d give it to you.

You walk up to him one Friday, showing your brand new sundress that you bought using his money, “Logan! It fits me so well, don’t cha think?”

The sight of you twirling around and giggling in front of him is enough to be his bad-day-cure, “Spin one more time, princess. Don’t have my glasses on.” 

He lies. He just wants to catch a glimpse of your cottoned panties in the process. 

Logan perceives himself as a sick fuck when he starts seeing you in that way. But hey, he did say that he is not a good man, right?  

He tried to control it, he really tried. Composing himself and creating some moral values in his head in an attempt to be in charge of his corrupted desires. 

But Logan forgot one simple thing: he can control himself all he wants, but he could never control you. 

You may be content but you are far from stupid.

It takes you months to perfect this mastermind plan—or so you call it. This mischief came into you when you decided that you had enough of Logan and his games. You know he yearns for you and you feel the same way, too. 

He peeks over you so… hungrily and thinks you wouldn’t notice? 

When you confront him about it one morning, he nonchalantly brushes it off by letting out a dry chuckle and mutters something around, “What ya’ talking ‘bout, kiddo? Go ‘head finish your breakfast.”  

But you know! You always catch his yearning gazes and… hear him over the shower one time. Moaning and grunting your name when he thought you were out buying the weekly groceries. It upsets you that he does not give in. 

So then, you concluded that you will determine to bring his temptation up to the surface and break his poor self-control through this little contemplation of yours. 

It takes a while to gain your courage and when you finally creep up into Logan’s room, the clock on the wall ticks at half past two in the morning. 2:30 AM. 

Logan said he’d take care of you, right? Said he’d do anything for you, right? Well, you need him now, “Logan? Logan? It hurts.” You whisper into the chilly air as you shake him up from his deep slumber.

And y’know, he’s a tired old man—so it takes him a while to wake up. He grabs his glasses from the nightstand beside him and slides them right on. When Logan sees you standing sleepily before him in your nightie gown, Good Lord. 

“Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on, princess?” You’re all teared up and your lips are bitten red. You look heavenly in the shaft of moonlight that slips through the window and into Logan’s bedroom. 

Your actions speak for themselves as you make your way onto his lap and nuzzle into his greying beard. “Tell your old man what’s got you so upset. C’mon.” He wants to take a good look at your face but you are so latched to him—snuffling into his broad shoulder all gloomy and wretched. 

“Hurts so bad.” You repeat yourself as your arms make their way around his neck. “Hurts, Logan.” 

“Hm? What hurts?” 

Pure silence as your little fingers wrap around Logan’s wrist and place it on your knee. Then, you’re guiding him up up up and he knows where this is going but he could not stop it. 

Fuck. He curses himself. Should’a know you’d pull some shit like this.

Finally, you stop his large calloused hand on top of your pussy. It’s heating up. Logan can feel the warmth of your cunt through your thin white cotton panties—his middle finger twitches with the urge to palm you. But no. That’s not what a good man should do. He tries to remember all the moral values he has created in his head while he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. 

“Kiddo-”

“Want to cum, please, Logan.” You take his face in your hands in the way that you always do and his hand is still on top of your clothed mound. “Please…! You said you’d help me, take care of me. I’ll be good, promise. Please.” His eyes open and he looks at your big eyes then your lips then your eyes again. That’s when you know you had him. “Hurts.” 

With half-lidded eyes, you watch Logan lose his composure, “Yeah? You’d be good f’me?” His head goes forward as he pampers your face with gentle kisses and you gulp because you don’t know what to do now. 

“Why don’t you lay down and let me take a look?” 

His scent combination of beer, whiskey, and cigars lingers around you as you rest your aching body on his bed. Looking up at him all mesmerized and lust-filled. 

Logan tries to soften his features for you. He thinks the heave of your chest moving up and down, up and down is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He said he’d take care of you and that’s all he’s doin’ now. Taking care of his pretty baby. 

“C’mon. Open up to your old man.” He says, patting the sides of your thighs to part. And you did what you’re told, revealing the wet spot of your panties, and Logan curses. Mutters something under his breath. 

“You’ve been touching yourself here, Little Missy? That’s what got you dripping?” You throw your head back and huff a breathy ‘ah’ at the feel of his big fingers rubbing circles along the slick. Logan wants you to sing for him, “Use your big girl words, c’mon.” 

“Y-yes! Been touching myself…” Your red cheeks heat up at your own answer, suddenly feel so little. Logan hums deeply at your reply, hooking his fingers at one side of your panties and pulling them aside. Oh, he can tell. “Mhm.”

You were in a moment of bliss until he stopped his movement and brought your panties back to its original place, “Show me.” 

“L-Logan…” you respond by shaking your head erratically. Nononono— this isn’t a part of your plan. This becomes humiliating. No way. 

“What d’ya mean no, princess?” Logan grins—he knows you’re playing something and he is not going to lose so easily. “You want me to take care of you, yeah? Gotta show your old man what you were doin’ so he knows what he can do.” 

Well, he is not wrong. You let a huff defeatedly and roll yourself onto your front, shoving one of Logan’s pillows between your plushy thighs. And Logan is bewitched and hypnotized and fuck, so hard. His cock sticks up in his boxers briefs it hurts. 

Through his lens, he attentively watches every move you make: how your nightie gown hikes up to your chest and reveals a glimpse of your breasts, how you roll your hips in circles, how you throw your head back up facing the ceiling. The noises you make—sounds he not-so-accidentally heard when he passes your room at night when he comes home from work. This is what you've been doing? 

“Aight’. I know the problem is, sweets.” You slow down your movements as you gaze at him all doe-eyed. He places his palm on your back to still you. Your head lulls back and forth as you wait for his guidance. 

“You need something inside. Have you had something inside, baby?” He turns you to him oh, so delicately as if you are something fragile. 

You shake your head slightly at his question, suddenly embarrassed. Logan is so hard at this. He can't hold back anymore. “I see. ‘S alright, little girl. Lean on top of me. I’ll show you how it’s done. Y’ just need to trust your old man, yeah?” 

And you do. You always do. You love him. 

He smiles down at you, showing the wrinkles and scars on his face. “I love ya’. Give me some sugar first. Let me kiss ya’.” 

The kiss is more than just a distraction. It’s a repetition of him saying I love ya’ through his actions. What comes next is new to you, his large fingers probing at your entrance as you hiss and whimper and sob. Logan eases you open while kissing your inner thighs, letting you feel his scruffy beard. Raining you with his sweet praises, “Oh, that’s a good girl, alright. My sweet girl.” 

Then it leads you to it. The main purpose of your plan here in the first place. 

The clothes you both had on are thrown all over the floor as he hovers above you, taking off his glasses—placing kisses everywhere he can reach. “Y’want it?” And the tip of his cock finally nudges between your folds in an aching stretch and you mewl.

“Your old man’s gonna take care of you.” 

He always does.

[eyeheartboobiez]

shower sex w/ jason

ask: I’ve been craving backshots with Jaybird(possibly in the shower)and reader being blackout cockdrunk, I don’t know if you’re comfortable with degradation, praise/degradation or slightly mean!Jason so I’ll leave that optional(if you’re not comfortable with that forget I ever said that). And ofc filthy dirty talk is always welcome 😉

a/n: @nyxx01 IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I HOPE U LIKE IT

wc: 800-ish

tw: subspace themes

"Shut up and take it."

The steam radiating throughout the bathroom was nothing compared to what was actually happening in the shower. What was supposed to be a simple wash after a night out, abruptly turned into something much more pornographic.

For hours now, Jason had been plowing into your entrance, not thinking too let up in the slightest. You were surprised the water hadn’t gone cold considering the two of you had been at it for hours now.

Despite the hot water cascading down your skin, your nipples grazing the tile of the wall, or even the slight clutch of Jason’s hand around your throat, you felt completely stripped of all your senses. 

Absolutely weak in the knees by now, your body had gone completely limp from being handled so brutally. The sobs of pleasure slipping from your lips were the only signs of life from you. 

As the rhythm of Jason’s thrusts shook your entire body, you were sure you’d have fallen over by now had it not been for his iron grip around your torso. "Jace,” you huffed, “Jus’ gimme a sec-"

A piercing smack shrilled through the air, loud enough to be heard between the pouring water and your shameless moans. You didn’t even realize how much your rear stung until you noticed callused hands teasingly rub at the stricken area, “Nuh uh, you don't get to talk. Not right now."

The vigilante moved to grip you by your elbows, his hips still thrusting at an unforgiving pace. Tears stained your cheeks as you began to cry, the saltiness of your cries somehow finding a way to stand out against the tap water around you. 

"Aww, you crying sweetheart? I thought you wanted to be treated like a whore t’night, hm? Thought this was what you wanted, baby.” His teases did nothing but add to your arousal, only hurting you on a surface level.

“I should just spread you open and pound you till tomorrow, huh?" He cooed. “I’d finally fuck the brat outta you. Maybe then you’ll start being good ‘fa me.”

You practically shuddered at the thought, desperate to be filled with more of Jason’s cum. His feigned sympathy made your eyes water even more.

However, that dream was quickly shut down. His sudden talkativeness was a telltale sign that he was close to reaching his peak.

Not even a minute later, you felt his hips shudder vigorously against your backside, the grip on you tightening as he was pushed over the edge. Ropes of cum pulsed from the girth between his legs, penetrating deep within your sensitive hole

“Mmmf, there we go.” Groans sputtered from his mouth, languid praises rumbling from chest, “That’s it hon, give it to me.”

Following him in sequence, you reached your final orgasm of the night. Your knees buckled and convulsions took over your body as you felt the climax rush through you. 

Before you could hit the floor though, the Gothamite was quick to catch you in his arms. Gently, he sat you down on the floor of the tub, making sure to angle you away from the pouring water.

Feeling the ground beneath you, your senses were slowly coming back to you. While you weren’t necessarily dickmatized anymore, your thoughts were still a bit hazy.

The water rinsing you down, a fresh towel drying you off, butter massaging its way into your skin; everything happened in a blur. But, even while your mind was still trying to catch up with the world around you, you knew that you were in good hands.

“C'mon doll, help me out a little here.” Blinking into reality, you looked to see you were sat on the edge of your bed, dressed in one of your boyfriend’s tee shirts. Jason was standing between your legs, attempting to wrap your hair for the night, but your drowsy figure was no help whatsoever.

Straightening up, you moved to make the job easier for him. “There ya’ go,” he muttered, the low timbre of his voice only lulling you further to sleep, “Look at you bein’ so good for me now.”

Once your mane was taken care of, you hastily made your way under the sheets, the soft fabric covering you in a blanket of warmth. After making sure you were comfortable, the batboy made his way over to his side of the bed, settling himself in right beside you.

Although, just as you were about to clock out for the night, Jason squished your cheeks together, forcing your eyes to meet his, "Maybe next time think twice before flirting with the bartender, hm?"

You knew he was still irritated with you, but the goodnight kiss he left on your forehead told you he’d get over it. Sooner or later.

a/n: this reads like a wattpad fic (derogatory)

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when the love and deepspace boys get jealous

warnings: pouty men, jealous xavier is a warning in itself, sorry if i mischaracterise…. and i also have favourites LOLL

characters: sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier

link to master list here!

author notes: all i can think of is pouty rafayel and jealous xavier my brain is a melted goop of lnds brainrot… also sorry for not posting in a while i was on holiday!!

also quick reminder that i have requests open but 1. i’ll get to them slowly and 2. please read my pinned post about rules!

more under the cut ~

out of the four men i think sylus is the least jealous - now let me elaborate that possessiveness and jealousy (in my eyes) are very different

if you talk to another man, sylus both trusts you and has enough faith in himself to know that no matter what the dude does, sylus is yours and you’re his

he trusts you 100%, without a shadow of a doubt. and this translates through his lack of jealousy when you spend time with other people

however, if the man even attempts to lay a finger on you, his tone becomes too sweet or his hand inches a bit too close and you’re getting uncomfortable?

you bet your ass sylus is interfering.

immediately shifts his body to create distance between you and the other party

he flashes a dangerous look at the other man, evol glowing dangerously as it whispers a small warning into the other’s ear

“Stay away and you get to stay alive.”

he seriously doesn't fuck around when it comes to your comfort and safety, and if he feels that another man is compromising it or pushing the boundaries it really ticks him off

when does sylus get jealous?

mostly when you start to spend less time with him and more time with others

it’s not as if as soon as you spend time with someone else he gets jealous, but if it causes you to start to ignore him/spend less time with him he gets jealous

when he gets jealous, he doesn’t hide it at all

sylus isn’t one to keep his feelings from you, so when you see his displeasured frown you know immediately something is up

he doesn’t get angry or petty when jealous, he just makes it clear that he’s not happy with the division of attention

when you ask him what’s up, he gives you the answer plain and simple

“Getting bored of me already? How come you’re spending more time with […] than me, I’m jealous.”

his voice is slow and clearly unimpressed, crossing his arms as he looks you up and down.

luckily for you, he’s not hard to win over

spend time with him, even if it’s not active such as going out to restaurants or to one of his formal events

the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, him reading a magazine and you looking through moments, that’s more than enough for him

he’s not opposed to displays of physical affection either, cuddling or kisses to his face - anything that tells him “you’re mine/i’m yours” will satisfy him

just make sure not to spend TOO much time with the other person, otherwise sylus might seriously hunt them down

he’d never make you jealous on purpose, he had no interest in other women/men at all and respects you way too much to pull petty moves like that

when sylus accidentally makes you jealous, he’ll definitely pamper you, spoil you with gifts and spend time with you

wanted to get the new limited edition plushie? he’ll stay in the arcade with you until you get all of them. wanted a new game on steam? he’s bought both the game, all the dlcs and any in game passes and currency.

Somewhere at some point during the day he'll simply come clean about it, after all he's a straight forward man and he trusts you.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to make you jealous. Forgive me, please?"

tldr; sylus is a love sick loser that knows you’re equally in love with him as he is with you

here goes the award to the most composed LI - zayne gets jealous alright, not nearly as much as the coming two but he still gets jealous

it's not that he doesn't trust you, but watching you smile so brightly to the café employee or get a little too friendly with another doctor sets him on edge

if you're talking to male friends/giving them friendly hugs zayne's completely fine with it, he's happy to see you surrounded by people who care for you and for you to be happy too

at first it's hard to tell when zayne gets jealous, he has a poker face that would put lady gaga to shame

however, after a while you discover the few subtleties that give away his disgruntled state

for example, if you're talking a bit too excitedly or friendly to the barista - especially one you'd both met just today - there'd be a little crease in his forehead, his mouthwould be a fraction more downturned and his eyes a bit narrower as if he was squinting

or if you talk to him about a male colleague when you two were supposed to be out on a date, he'd definitely be jealous... however the only give away would be the faintest purse of his lips and twitch of his eyebrow

if you ask him if he's jealous he's going to deny it, he usually doesn't lie but when it comes to vulnerable emotions such as jealousy i feel he'd have difficulties expressing them

"Jealous? I'm not jealous, don't worry about me."

but then the right side of his mouth is twitching a little and if you focus hard enough he gives the impression of a kicked puppy, a very subtle hint of 'give me attention'

if you manage to learn the art of 'zayne expression reading' and finally notice that he's not 'lactose-intolerant-and-having-stomach-issues-causing-him-to-look-like-that' but in fact jealous, here's a few ways to heal your zayne!!

zayne specialists recommend a good dosage of subtle affections - e.g. bringing up one of his interests or reminiscing upon something you two did in the past, basically indicating to him 'hey, i still love you most in the world!'

he's a perceptive man and will pick up on what you're doing relatively quick, and his little grumpy face will relax back into the unconscious, soft smile he adopts when in your presence

if he accidentally makes you jealous, he makes sure you know more than anyone else in the world that he's yours and yours only.

reciprocates the small gestures such as holding your hand in public or introducing you to his colleagues

"Good afternoon to you too. I believe you haven't met [Y/N] before?"

and then he'll adjust his hand placement, sliding from patting your shoulder to gentle resting on the small of your back, a little intimate gesture that screams "I'm their partner."

makes sure by the end of the day he's got the message across, and at one point brings it up (even though you've basically forgotten what he did to make you jealous anyways)

"I didn't mean to upset you, [Y/N]. I love you only, no one else could replace you, I promise."

okay, yeah, we made it to jealous, pouty, bratty man territory

there’s an evident gap between zayne level jealousy and rafayel level jealousy

don’t get me wrong, rafayel would do anything you asked of him - partially because of his whole lumerian bond and also because he’s utterly whipped for you

does he love you? that’s a stupid question to ask oh course he does… but does he truly trust you?

i’d like to think that rafayel (if he was dating you in this situation) is absolutely devoted to you and trusts you wholeheartedly, but in reality rafayel has deep engraved fears and uncertainties

he has a fear of being forgotten about, and likely (as a consequence of being forgotten multiple times) - the idea of being abandoned or replaced sends physical chills down his spine

so honestly, rafayel’s jealousy stems from the unwavering fear of being left alone, lost and forgotten again…

the pain of being forgotten, it’s not something he’s willing to go through any more, causing it to be difficult to fully reassure him that you’re his.

on a more lighter, more playful level, rafayel’s jealousy would probably lay with animals - specifically cats and sea creatures

one day he finds that instead of lazing about with him indoors, that you were outside napping with a cat on your lap

if he wasn’t so afraid of the cat concerned for your quality and length of sleep he would’ve had a go at the cat as it smirked triumphantly at him, licking its paws as it rolls around in your lap.

when complaining later on he would be his usual, petulant self, pouting and crossing his arms, tilting his chin up etc

“I guess you prefer those furry monsters over a fishie like me, why don’t you just leave me for one?”

to fix this petty brattiness is simple!

simply devote all your attention and affections to rafayel, as in when you two are alone and spending time together you can just pat his head or trace his beauty marks

he’ll be pouting the whole time, but after a few pats he’ll get embarrassed and his ears will go red as he says something like “I’m not a cat…” yet he still lets you pet him lol

rafayel especially likes it when you gently stroke at the roots of his hair, leaning into your touch a little every time you thread deeper into his hair

however, if you spend too much time with another man rather than rafayel, it’s a whole different type of jealousy/insecurity

he’s quiet, too quiet, and withdrawn

the situation was deeply confusing the first time around

it’s as if you ordered the wrong rafayel, what happened to his usual bratty and playful personality? this wasn’t like all the other times.

unlike his childish display of jealousy when you were with the cat, this time he had a schooled expression, blank, a facade

his expression was eerie, you’d never seen him like this, so… emotionless seeming

rafayel, really, was emotionally detaching from the relationship - he still loves you oh my god he adores you so much he’d sacrifice everything he had for you, but the idea of you preferring that other person over him?

it sends him into panic, and all he (believed he) could do was numb himself, anticipate the leave or him getting forgotten

(am i projecting too much here… avoidant attachment rafayel believer and lover 😞🙏)

if he withdrew from the relationship first, maybe it would hurt less being left again

of course you weren’t intending to leave him, so how do you fix this?

well, as unhealthy as this may seem, spending less time with the new person and more time with rafayel really would be the only way i could think of making him feel better

saying things such as “Rafayel I would never leave you.” can only provide him with short-term reassurance, after all how many times have you said that before and then still proceeded to leave him?

instead, caress him gently, give him time to feel safe in the relationship again. late night calls where you two fall asleep together or hold him in your arms as you two both sleep at night

this avoidant attachment style will, however, probably go when you two start dating, since in dating you rafayel has probably decided to let you into his heart and whole heartedly trusts you now :)

if rafayel accidentally makes you jealous, depending on the severity (again) here’s what he’d do

if it was a simple thing (such as spending too much time with the shakes idk something more tame) he’d definitely tease you

“Awwh cutie? Getting jealous of the sharks? Don’t worry, I prefer you over them any day.”

he’ll have this smug ass grin that pisses you off, as much as it makes you love him too

rafayel will give you more hugs and gifts than usual for a while after, claiming it’s ‘nothing’ and that you’re ’hallucinating things’ when you ask what he’s doing

really he’s apologising, but you don’t need to know that

if he made you really jealous/upset he’ll make is extremely clear to you that he belongs to you, his heart and will is yours

will become more clingy and affectionate with you (not that he does it on purpose infact he’s only showing his true desires more), forever. like, you get jealous? don’t worry, literally for the rest of your life you’ll know that rafayel is head-over-heels for you.

tldr: he needs a hug :( also i ended up writing way more than intended but im a rafayel lover, writer and if he has no stans left im dead

here he is, the most jealous and arguably possessive man in lnd.

xavier tries to hide it, but everyone knows that he’s yours, without a shadow of a doubt

we all saw what happened with jeremiah, don’t make me pull out the receipts LOL. like jeremiah was just happy to finally see the girl xavier was lining over for centuries and xavier was already losing his shit 😭

literally anyone talking to you too affectionately will tick him off, but xavier’s too sly to make it obvious

you’re talking to a doctor (cough zayne) ? xavier brings up some sort of old medicine they don’t or asks about their speciality so you stop talking to them

talking to a protocore specialist? he’ll all of a sudden be holding a textbook worthy protocore, worth the poor persons whole shop

a florist? he’s pointing at every flower and naming them, both common and scientific name.

“Oh [Y/N], look at that flower. I believe it’s called a Lonicera periclymenum?”

*turns to face the clearly shocked and flustered florist with a polite smile*

“Well, maybe you know it as a honeysuckle, is that correct?”

after living for so long he’s learnt many things, and boy does he use it to his advantage

when xavier gets jealous, he doesn’t expect anything from you, no no, this man is a service boyfriend if i’ve ever seen one, he was MADE to please you

rather than thinking “oh you don’t like me anymore i’m so upset“ he thinks “i need to serve and show you i’m yours.”

do you like sweet things? he’s buying you chocolates of all kinds, if that’s not your jam he’s got pastries, or candy, or fresh fruit, maybe everything in a little gift box

prefer savoury foods? he’ll cook you a meal that he knows you like (even if you don’t trust the food) he’ll practice making it until you like it

if you talk about another person when you’re one on one with him, he’ll do little things to get your attention, maybe bite your finger softly or tuck hair behind your ear, little fleeting touches and such

cheeky little grins and conversational diversions such as 'Oh? What about you, how did you do in the exam?' or 'What were you buying in the supermarket?' - more ways of saying "i'm yours, don't forget"

but if you wanted to reassure xavier, physical affections such as cuddling and kisses can win him over

nap with him for a few nights (really he forgave you the first night, he just pretended to be grumpy with you for a while longer for more naps) and he’ll be satisfied (for now)

“Come cuddle with me starlight, I’ve still not forgiven you.”

(he’s lying, he forgave you like a week ago)

likes it when you play with his hair when you two cuddle - now this makes me want to write abt how the men cuddle lol

if he accidentally makes you jealous it’d probably be when the two of you are on a mission and he flirts with another woman to easily progress through a mission

the two of you are in the hotel room and you’re sulking in the bed, turning away from him and clearly displeased

xavier knows you’re jealous, and can only huff out an amused breath - he doesn’t like that you’re feeling bad but he’s happy that you’re jealous… means you like him as much as he likes you!

he gently walks over to the bed, shifting onto the duvet beside you and reaches out to touch your shoulder - making sure you’re okay with him touching you

if you let him, he’ll lie down next to you and slowly wrap his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he slowly kisses the top of your head

slipping your shirt down to just below your shoulder, he gives the skin of your back gentle kisses as he apologises

“I’m sorry, it was for the mission. I’ve only ever loved you, so please don’t be angry.”

and then he nuzzled into your back until you finally cave in, twisting around and hugging him back.

he’ll be seriously apologetic about it though, and in the future avoid such intimate forms of gathering information even *if* you told him it was okay

AN; i got way too carried away with rafayel ANYWAYS hope you enjoy and now i want to write smaller hcs on how the men cuddle lolol

also this isn’t proofread no beta we die like caleb ig

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Sugar

best friend!san x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of

Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.

Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.

Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.

He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.

You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.

You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.

Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.

You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”

He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”

“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.

When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”

You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.

The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.

What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.

Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.

The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.

“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.

You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.

With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”

“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”

“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.

He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.

“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?

“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.

“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.

“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.

“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”

“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.

“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.

“Yeah, kin-”

“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.

“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.

He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.

“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”

He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.

You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”

You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?

Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”

You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”

He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.

“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.

You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.

“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.

San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.

You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.

“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”

If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”

He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”

“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.

Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.

You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.

He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”

You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”

You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”

“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.

He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.

“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.

“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.

One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.

“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.

Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.

“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.

“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.

Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.

He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.

“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.

“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.

“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.

“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.

San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.

He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”

It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”

“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.

“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.

“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”

“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.

“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”

Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.

He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.

Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”

It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.

Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.

“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.

You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”

“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.