#this shot had no business being so pretty

[halsteadlover]

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: can you please write charles x reader she give him a blowjobs while he drives 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

• Warnings: oral sex m. receiving, dirty talk, swearing, semi public sex, unprotected sex (y’all already know what to do), this is just smut and pretty much zero plot lol

• Word count: 3.2K

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+. This is straight up ass but here we go anyways lmao

You were always meant to be a passenger princess not because you were lazy or you didn’t want to drive, but because you could sit there for hours and admire your husband for as long as you wanted.

Seriously, he had no business looking so good while driving and no matter how many car rides you took together, you’d never get used to that sight. You couldn’t even understand how lucky you were to have that man and being able to say he was your man.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not even if you wanted to.

One hand on the wheel, veins prominent under his golden skin, the other resting on your thigh, casual, effortless. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the sharp lines of his forearms, and there was a crease between his brows as he bit his bottom lip in concentration. It was the kind of look that made it hard to think straight, let alone behave.

His fingers drew imaginary circles on your inner thigh, absentmindedly, unaware of the effect he was actually having on you. You were going crazy. You wanted him so much you couldn’t even think straight anymore.

“You’re awfully silent chérie, what are you thinking about?” he asked, waking you up from your daydream. Even his voice was so sexy, with that accent that could send you into a total turmoil.

He looked at you for a moment before returning his gaze to the road. You didn’t answer right away, you continued to let your gaze travel along his face, the profile of his nose, the outline of his lips, his jaw, the column of his throat, his Adam’s apple, down his chest and his arms. And fuck, his arms.

“Nothing,” you finally answered, never taking your eyes off him as you hand rested on his—the one on your thigh—caressing his skin with your nails.

“Liar. You’re staring,” he shot you another look, a half-smirk plastered across his lips. He knew you by now, after years together he had learned to know every expression, every nuance, it was almost as if he could read your mind.

You dragged your fingers up and down his bicep, caressing it, feeling it, squeezing it.

“You just look so good baby, so damn hot.”

You watched as he inhaled deeply as his finger flexed almost imperceptibly on your thighs. You leaned down to leave a kiss on his arm, then more up his bicep, his shoulders and then—as you moved closer to him—his jaw, his cheek and then the corner of his mouth.

He exhaled deeply and his fingers tightened around your thigh. “What are you doing?” He whispered, turning his head and stealing a kiss on your lips before returning his eyes to the road.

“Didn’t you sway you wanted to know what I was thinking?” You whispered back, continuing to pepper his face with kisses. They seemed innocent but—combined with your voice so sexy and seductive—it was enough to make him harden and you noticed, to your delight.

“No… Yes… Fuck baby I’m driving,” he begged and you giggled. You took off your seatbelt to make yourself more comfortable and rested one hand on his chest while you stroked his hair with the other.

“I was just thinking about how much I want you,” you nibbled his earlobe, making him sigh heavily as your hand moved down his chest, slow and sensual, “how wet I’m right now just thinking about sucking your dick, how much I want you to fuck me in this car right now…”

“Putain,” he cursed under his breath, both hands now on the wheel, knuckles clenched so hard they turned white, “you—” he cut himself off, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe what you just said that. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he quickly glanced at you, his eyes now darker, hungrier. “You can’t say things like that while I’m driving baby.”

“Why not?” you challenged, fingers grazing dangerously close to his crotch. “Can’t handle it love?”

You took your time, letting your fingers grace over the bulge straining against his jeans, light enough to make him twitch under your touch but nowhere near enough to give him what he wanted.

What he needed.

“Please don’t do this to me…”

“Already so hard for me mon amour?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Is this all for me?”

His breath stuttered, and for a second, he said nothing, just gripped the steering wheel tightener, knuckles pale against the leather.

But you weren’t letting him get away that easily.

Your fingers fiddled with his belt, slow and unhurried as you popped the button and eased the zipper down. He made a sound deep in his throat, half curse, half plea, and you felt his hips shift, like he was trying to give you more room to touch him.

You slipped you hand inside his pants and rubbed the palm of your hand on his hard dick, making him moan and curse again. “Merde bébé…” he groaned, a low, desperate sound that made your pussy clench.

“Answer me,” you urged, slowing your movements. “Is this for me baby?”

His head fell back against the seat for a split second, jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might break it. “Oui…” he finally breathed out, voice rough and wrecked. “Yes, fuck—all for you, baby. Always…”

You slid your hand beneath the fabric of his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his dick and let out a moan so hot and sexy. “Please—oh my God… You’re going to make me crush.”

Your touch was soft at first, just enough to make him tremble beneath your hand. You stroked him lazily, dragging your thumb over his sensitive and wet tip, feeling his dick pulse in your palm.

“No, I’m not. You’re going to keep us safe won’t you baby?”

His thighs tensed beneath your fingers, and when you squeezed him just a little tighter, he let out another moan.

“You’re not being fair,” he muttered, but his voice broke on the last word when you gave him another slow, deliberate stroke.

“Who said I play fair?” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss against his jaw. “I just want to make you feel good, don’t you want that?”

“Fuck yes,” he answered so fast it made you chuckle. You lowered his pants and underwear further, until his hard dick finally sprung free. “You’re—fuck—you’re going to ruin me.”

You didn’t answer to that, but leaned down and darted your tongue out before giving a slow and deliberate lick along the shaft of his dick, making him hiss. You slowly drew imaginary circles on his tip, tasting his salty precum.

“Holy— Ah yeah chérie just like that.” His hand left the wheel for a second just so he could tangle his fingers in your hair, tugging at it like he knew you liked. You took him all in your mouth and Charles swerved the car slightly before quickly regaining control, letting out a curse that was somewhere between a moan and fear.

“Mon Diey you’re going to get us killed,” he groaned and the words only seemed to fuel you up even more. Your lips circled his dick as your tongue traced circles around his soft silky skin, leaving streaks of saliva with every movement.

The car was filled only with the sounds of Charles’ uncontrolled moans and gasps and the noises you made as you gagged on his dick while he kept pushing your head down, fucking your mouth. “Yeah baby just like that… My beautiful wife takes me so fucking well…”

Your pace grew bolder now, each lick firmer, more purposeful, and the tension in his body was undeniable, the way his breath came faster, the way his thighs trembled beneath your touch. He was close. You could feel it.

His grip in your hair tightened, and when you hollowed your cheeks, taking him so deep into your throat as your hand wrapped around the base of his dick, he let out a guttural moan that was pure sin. “Putain—” The French slipped from his lips once again like a prayer, raw and desperate. “I need to touch you, I want you so fucking bad—I can’t…”

But he couldn’t, he had to concentrate with every fiber of his being on driving, keeping his eyes on the road and focusing to not crash his car into someone. He couldn’t concentrate on the beautiful woman who had her head between his legs and was sucking his dick so voraciously as if she physically needed it to live.

He thanked the Lord in that moment for having tinted windows or it would’ve been hard to explain to his bosses why images of him receiving a blowjob from his wife while driving were printed on all the newspapers and magazines.

His head fell back against the seat for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, struggling to hold himself together.

“God baby your mouth feels like heaven, you’re going to kill me,” he rasped again, though the way his hips jerked mimicking your movement, chasing the heat of your mouth, told you he didn’t want you to stop.

Charles felt like he was about to come but he didn’t want to, he wanted to explode inside you, filling your hot, wet pussy to the last drop.

So, the car swerved suddenly, and before you could process it, Charles yanked the wheel and veered onto the side of the road with a rough, urgent movement. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sharp stop.

Your head lifted in surprise, lips still glossy and swollen, and you barely had time to catch your breath before his hand was on you—pulling you up, dragging you into his lap with a hunger that felt heat rushing straight through you.

Charles grabbed your hair in a fist and crushed his lips against yours in a kiss that sucked the soul out of your body.

“You really think I was going to let you finish me like that?” his voice low and dangerous against your ear. “Not a chance. I’m going to come in this tight little pussy and you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”

The words barely registered before his mouth was on yours again, hot, demanding, like he needed to taste you, to claim every inch of you after the way you’d wrecked him. His tongue slid against yours, making the kiss messier, urgent, filled with the kind of heat that made your head spin.

His hands were everywhere, skimming up your thighs, tugging at the hem of your dress as he freed your breast, on your ass. You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slid beneath the fabric, tracing along the edge of your underwear with a touch that was anything but patient.

“All that teasing,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your breast as his tongue traced a wet circle around your nipples, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric and stroking over your already-soaked pussy. “And you’re this wet for me?” He repeat your words.

You whimpered, hips rolling into his touch, and the sound you made had his jaw clenching, like it was taking everything in him not to lose himself completely.

“Charles,” you breathed, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please… Oh yes… I’m always wet for you baby…”

A dark, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest. “You were so bold a minute ago,” he taunted, dragging his fingers through your slick folds before slipping one inside you. “What happened to that confidence, mhh?”

You couldn’t answer, not when he curled his finger just right, pressing against that perfect spot that had your body arching and trembling against him.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, adding a second finger and groaning softly at how easily you took him. “You love being like this for me, don’t you? So needy… So ready. My wife is so perfect for me.”

The ache between your thighs grew unbearable, and you shifted against him, grinding against his hand in a way that made him curse softly under his breath.

“Fuck just like that,” you moaned, your hands in his hair as you pulled it in a vain attempt to survive that wave of pleasure. “You’re so good baby.”

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he rasped, pulling his fingers from you and taking them in his mouth, licking every drop of your wetness. “Merde I need to be inside you.”

He barely gave you a moment to catch your breath before he kissed you again, pulling your panties to the side. You felt his thick, heavy dick pressing against you, and the sheer desperation in his touch sent your heart racing.

“Come here, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough but desperate as he guided your hips over him. “Sit on my dick, let me make you feel good.”

The stretch was delicious, hot and perfect as you sank down onto him, and the groan that came from his lips when you took him made your head spin. His hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you there, like he needed a second to compose himself or he’d come in a second.

“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his head falling back against the seat. “You feel so good, so fucking tight around me.”

You leaved open-mouthed kisses on his neck, licking the column of his throat, every inch of his skin. You braced your hands on his chest but also caressing his face, rolling your hips slowly, and his jaw tensed, letting out a deep, broken moan.

“Still think you’re in control husband?” you teased, though your voice trembled slightly as you rocked against him, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly.

His heated eyes snapped open, as he met your gaze and the look he gave you felt a delicious shiver down your spine.

His hands tightened on your ass, slapping it before thrusting his hips into you, deep and hard, stealing the breath from your lungs. And when his mouth found yours again, hungry and unforgiving, you knew you were completely done.

His kissed grew messier, desperate and claiming. His hands kept guiding you as you moved over him, his dick filling you with every roll of your body.

“Look at you,” he groaned against your lips, watching the way you took him, how your body clenched around him with every deep thrust. “So perfect. So fucking tight, baby.”

The praise sent a rush of heat straight through you, and you moaned, tilting your head back as his mouth trailed along your throat, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your arms circled his neck, your fingers going through his thick hair as he left marks, evidence of just how wrecked you made him. You knew it but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You’re so deep baby, fucking made for me,” you gasped, your fingers pulling his hair as you rocked against him harder. “You feel so—oh, God—”

A rough, broken curse slipped from his lips, and his grip on you grew almost bruising as his hips snapped up to meet yours faster, more relentless.

“You like being fucked like this? While everyone can see us?” he groaned, his voice thick and broken as he thrust up into you again like he wanted you to feel him for hours. “When can’t I even wait to get home?”

“Yes,” you breathed, clenching around him as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, hot and aching, winding tighter with every punishing stroke. “I love it, Charles. I love you.”

You tried to say something else, but every time you tried to open your mouth nothing came out but moans and gasps which—along with Charles’ and the sound of your skins clashing together—filled the car.

His mouth trailed down your chest, taking one breast between his lips and sucking it before doing the same with the other. “Fucking mine,” he sucked the spot under your ear, “mon Dieu I love you,” he rasped against your ear, each word punctuated by a deep, precise thrust that made your vision blur. “And I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

“All yours baby, forever,” you whispered against his hair, not even sure he heard you. You whimpered his name again and again, nails dragging down his back as you kept riding him, pushing you closer to the edge with every stroke of his dick.

The car windows were fogged now, the air thick and heavy with heat, but nothing mattered, nothing except him, the way he claimed you.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered grabbing your face with his hand, his voice raw and commanding in a way that made you clench around him. “I want to feel you come around me.”

The need in his tone was too much to resist. Your hand slipped between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit, and the moment you brushed against it, a loud and breathless moan escaped your lips.

“Merde,” Charles cursed again, his teeth grazing your jaw as his hips bucked up harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this—”

His words, his touch, everything, was too much and not enough all at once. Your body trembled against his, the pleasure building faster, hotter, and you knew you were right there.

“I’m so close baby, oh yes—you’re gonna make me come so hard…”

“Yeah, let go for me chérie. Come on my dick, I want to feel you.”

The filthy command shattered whatever restraint you had left. With one more swirl of your fingers, hot and blinding pleasure crashed over you, your body clenching around him as waves of ecstasy washed through you.

You cried out his name, and he groaned in response, burying himself deeper in your pussy as your walls kept clenching around him, making him completely lose his mind. His rhythm stuttered, his grip on your waist and ass bruising as he thrust into you one last time, hard and deep, before he finally let go.

His head fell against your shoulder as he spilled inside you, his hips jerking messily until he filled you till the last drop of his cum, his breath coming in rough bursts while the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through both of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just tangled together in the dim heat of the car, bodies still pressed close, hearts racing in unison.

“My God baby.” Finally, he exhaled a soft, breathless laugh, his lips brushing against your neck. “You wear me out. I swear I’m not going on a road trip with you ever again.”

You chuckled, brushing your fingers through his hair as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. You then placed your thumb and forefinger under his chin and forced him to lift his head to look at him. “You sure about that?”

He smirked before shaking his head and kissing you softly on the lips, his arms tightening around you. “Nah baby I was kidding, I’m five seconds away from dragging you in the backseat because I’m dying to eat your pussy.”

And by the way his hands were already sliding down your back again, still hungry, not quite satisfied, you had no doubt he meant every word.

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[ficsilike-reblogged]

Shelter - 2

Summary: You save Soap's life. Yours continues to go off the rails. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/F!Reader Warnings For This Chapter: Canon typical violence, panic attack, my continued attempt to write Soap and Ghost's accents, military inaccuracies, more canon divergence, Soft!Simon. MINORS DNI A/N: I truly cannot believe how sweet you guys were about the first chapter. Thank you so much for being so kind! I apologize for the wait. I was almost done with this chapter when I decided I hated it and scrapped all of it and started over. I also finished another draft of my novel! Busy times. This is definitely more of a slow burn romance and I'm thinking it'll be around 10 or so chapters.

Well, at least you were out of the hospital room. It wasn’t far from the hospital room, but the horrendously beige room down the hall had a television and a few chairs you could sink into and a small kitchen that always seemed to be stocked with snacks in neat boxes on the counter. Were they good snacks? Not really. But you weren’t about to complain when it was a break from the nutrient dense and flavorless food they’d been shoveling down your throat the last handful of days.

Coronation Street was playing on the television as you soaked a plain biscuit in your tea. This was probably a breakroom of some sort, cleared out of anything that you could have possibly used to communicate with the outside world and you were pretty sure the blinking light in the corner was a camera to make sure you weren’t going to do anything ridiculous. Like climb out a window.

No.

You just wanted out of that stupid room with its uncomfortable bed and terrible pillow and beeping machines.

The biscuit crumbled in half when you tried to remove it and you stared at your tea for a stretched moment as the soap opera continued to drone on. Dammit. You shoved the rest of the biscuit into your mouth and then sipped on the tea for a moment before digging out the remnants of the biscuit with your spoon. Not your proudest moment.

You were pulled from your sad cup of tea and entertainment by the door opening and Soap walking in, arm still in his matching sling.

“Why am I hearing about ye not taking yer pain killers?” He asked instead of a greeting. You found that Soap did that. He barged right into things. No slow starts for him. It would be endearing if this were any other situation.

And just like you not saying anything to Ghost about your sister and why she wouldn’t be found in any intel about you, you wouldn’t give Soap a straight answer either. You were not going to take any of those pain killers if you didn’t feel like you needed them. You knew… Well, that didn’t matter right now. “Are they telling you my medical history? I don’t think that’s legal on either side of the pond.”

He frowned. The big Scot frowned and you almost laughed with how it made him look like a puppy. “Don’t ye need it? Ye were shot.”

“I’m aware of that. Trust me.” You turned and grabbed at the sleeve of biscuits, knowing it was a blatant change of topic. “These are awful, by the way.”

Soap snatched them out of your hand and scowled at them. “These are shite. Why’d ye do that to yerself?” He then pivoted and rummaged through the cabinets you weren’t brave enough to open and then set down a pack of shortbreads in a fancy looking tin which he popped open with one hand (you tried not to be jealous about that particular skill). “That’ll be the only thing going near yer tea.”

The shortbread was delicious and you wordlessly made another cup of tea for yourself and a cup of coffee for Soap. You were prouder than you wanted to admit to hear you guessed correctly when you said he looked like he preferred coffee and prouder still when you dug some out of the cabinet and made it just the way he said he liked it as he settled on the lumpy couch beside you to watch the rest of the episode. He knew what was going on better than you and regaled you with the storylines long since finished and convoluted family ties of the characters. It was nice. Soap was…nice.

He had finished his coffee by the time the episode ended and scooped up your mug on his way toward the breakroom’s tiny kitchenette and set them both in the sink. He turned back toward you, bright blue eyes scanning your face for something. He had a casual set to his shoulders, even with the sling, but you knew the look of a smart man trying to pick his words carefully. Soap honestly reminded you, just a little bit, of a guy you went to highschool with, who looked the part of loveable idiot but eventually went to an ivy league school on a football scholarship. He was currently a doctor, knee deep in cancer research, if those annoying alumni emails had any truth to them.

“Just say what you need to say. I’m sure I can handle it.”

The corner of Soap’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I wanted to let ye know that yer intel was good.”

You just nodded. That would explain why you hadn’t seen the other three lately. They had been sent to Kastovia. “That mean I can go home?”

Soap sighed and your heart shriveled a bit more. “No, lass. I’m sorry.”

Someone had left a calendar in the breakroom. You had tried to keep track of the days that had slipped by, but you just wanted to be sure. You counted on your fingers how many days you thought had passed, but the pain killers the first few days after the tunnel had made everything hazy. You worried your bottom lip with the blunt edge of your teeth as you flipped through the next month and dragged your finger down to the day you knew Kirby was due.

Just a few short weeks. That’s all you had. You needed to be there. You needed to be back in time. You’d promised Kirby you would be. You’d never broken a promise to your younger sister and you didn’t want to start now. Those stupid, useless tears stung at your eyes again and blurred the calendar dates. “Fuck.” You wiped at your eyes, trying to keep them from falling before anyone saw, before you felt more useless and trapped than you already did.

Another episode of Coronation Street was playing, a hum at the back of your mind, but it started to mutate and grow until it was a screech. You needed to get to Kirby. They had what they needed from you. You would sign anything they wanted, change your name, dye your hair, live off the grid. But you needed to see Kirby.

You promised.

The door opened easily and you strode out into the hallway. Did you know where you were going? Not really but you just needed to leave. You could figure out the rest later. After all, Kirby always said you landed on your feet. It was time you proved her right. You turned down another hall and yelped when a meaty hand clapped on your uninjured shoulder. You turned, tamping down the urge to throw an elbow and snarled as you realized it was only Soap and his ridiculous blue eyes.

“What’re ye doing?”

“I’m leaving. I have to go.” Your heart thudded painfully as you turned, slipping out from his grip. The edges of your vision started to blur and you hated that you knew what this meant. It had been years since you felt like this—but this situation hadn’t exactly been great for your mental health.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Each beat of your heart hurt.

“Ye cannae do that, lass. Ye know that.”

“I’m leaving.” You turned again to leave and grunted when he pulled at the back of your shirt. “Let go of me.”

“Lass-”

You turned and tugged your shirt free, letting the snarl curl your mouth as your vision continued to tunnel.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

“I’m leaving!”

What happened next was not your finest moment but you’d also been through worse. Soap reached for you again and after you pulled out of his grip once more, he lowered his shoulder and ran at you, hauling you up and over. His arm anchored you down, a weight across your back as his shoulder dug into your stomach. You didn’t even freeze as he turned, presumably to bring you back to the breakroom. Your arm pushed out of its sling and you wrapped your hands around one of his thighs and let his next step help pull you from his grip. Heat lanced across your shoulder as you wiggled against the grip until you yanked your legs free and kicked them above his head and over your own until your heels hit the ground. And then you were throwing yourself forward and dashing down the hallway. Out. You needed to get out. You needed to leave. Every breath burned a little more and-

The tile was cool against your cheek but Soap’s arms were a heavy firebrand as they banded around your waist. “Calm down. Calm down fer me.”

You thrashed against his hold as he stood but he didn’t seem to care and it wasn’t like you were a match to those dumb, hulking muscles. But still, your memory was hazy as he dragged you back to the breakroom and shoved a shortbread into your hand.

“Now, I’ll talk to someone. But ye cannae do that. Ye understand?”

By the time Simon arrived back on home soil, they’d moved her and Soap to a different part of the base. A hall of barracks that had been recently constructed but not yet assigned to a different squadron had been a good place to hide away their injured sergeant and American informant. Laswell had informed Price of the move and then sent along a video in lieu of an explanation.

Simon wasn’t entirely sure how many times he watched her claw and wiggle her way out of Johnny’s grip but Price did eventually take the phone away from him. (But not before Simon sent himself a copy.) She was wily. Strong. Stubborn.

Even when she had tears smeared across her face.

It was easy for Simon to claim one of the rooms as his own—it had always been better for Simon to be on base anyway. His flat in Manchester never felt like home. Just an expensive place to rest his head when he was ordered to take his mandated leave. Knowing the others were down the hall was more comfortable than any sort of high priced pillow anyway.

The mission had been successful. And a shitshow. The cache of gas had been exactly where her intel had said it would be in a barren steel plant. But the handful of missiles had been an unexpected find. As had the small militia that awaited them. While they had been easily dealt with, one of them managed to set off what Simon could only describe as a failsafe to take out the entire plant and the surrounding area. The gas dissipated quickly but not before it had caused extensive damage. Makarov wanted them dead. And he wanted her dead, too, if the picture one of his men had pinned up beside a map of different caches and routes to take over borders was any indication. It was upside down and some artist had taken it upon themselves to scratch out her eyes and draw an obvious axe buried in her neck. Charming. There were a few smaller pictures beside it but he didn’t get a clear look at them.

The explosion meant they didn’t have more than the one picture Gaz took of the map and Simon’s lungs burned a bit every time he took a breath. Nik had been quick in the exfil but still cut it close. Too close. And it grated on his every nerve that Makarov hadn’t been there. Still in the wind.

Simon had been told to visit the medbay before going to bed—Laswell was supposed to be arriving tomorrow for a debrief—but he thought that was more of a suggestion than an order. He’d dropped his bag on the floor and rinsed off before lumbering into the small bed, letting the standard-issue sheets scratch at his skin. It felt like coming home. And he watched the video again, feeling a strange smile push at his mouth.

He could bother Johnny about her ability to get away from him in the morning.

The doctor whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember told you to start physical therapy. And, just your luck, Soap had been told to do the same. If he was wary of you because of your outburst, he didn’t show it at all. He would smile at you, eyes crinkling, over his coffee whenever you opened your door at the crack of dawn. A tea would be in his other hands and ready for you. It was a nice routine as more days continued to slip by.

You’d stretch and grumble about the slowly fading pain in your shoulder and Soap would do the same. At least you didn’t need to use the sling anymore. But this was, pathetically, probably the closest you’d had to a friend. He’d talk and talk and talk. About his mom and sisters up in a small town outside Glasgow. About the dog he had as a kid—“Boots was the best dog a boy could have, lass, lemme tell ye.” About anything that seemed to pop into his head as the sun would intermittently peek out from behind the low hanging clouds to splash warmth across the dead grass beneath your sneakers. You counted it as a win that they let you outside. It was behind a fence with razor wire at the top, but a win is a win. Mostly. Maybe they were seeing if they could actually trust you outside those beige walls.

You’d swallow nails if it meant you could be at Kirby’s side when she needed you.

One of the more ridiculous exercises the doctor had you and Soap do was passing a yoga ball between one another—of course, you had to move your arms a certain way to get the right stretch or whatever, but it all felt a little silly, even with the twinge growing more pronounced with each pass. Hands on top and on bottom, twist so they’re on the side, hand to Soap. He’d repeat.

“This feels very stupid.”

“Aye. But they’re watchin’ so we’d best play nice.”

The yoga ball nearly slipped from your suddenly-slick fingers. “What do you mean?” You’d heard a bit of thudding from the empty room next to yours last night but thought it was a faulty air unit. Was there someone else here?

“They got back last night. Give ‘em a chance to settle before they say hello, aye?” Soap’s blue eyes sparked with mirth and you might have shoved the ball back at him a little harder than necessary. He just laughed at you.

You chanced a glance at the rectangular windows cut into the metal building, close to the sharp edge of the roof. He was probably just being funny, but now you couldn’t fight the feeling of someone watching you. And why did your mind conjure Ghost’s ridiculous mask?

He hadn’t said much after you had told him you weren’t going to pour your heart out to him. But he’d continued to stare until he and the others left for Kastovia without a word. One guy who’d found you “mysterious” while you were in undergrad thought that he could figure you out and stared, too. Thought that his attempt at a psychology degree would unravel all…well, all of you. He gave up after a couple of months. Ghost didn’t seem the type to give up. But that still didn’t mean that you were going to tell him anything.

You threw another glance toward the window and the yoga ball hit you in the face.

Simon stared down at the inhaler. This was stupid. The doc had hurriedly explained that being exposed to the gas during the explosion had done a number on Simon’s lungs. At least he wasn’t Price who’d hit his head on his way out and was told he’d had a concussion and also needed the inhaler. Gaz had been the only one who’d managed to get out mostly unscathed aside from needing a butterfly bandage for a cut over his eye.

His next breath burned and Simon finally shook the damn scrap of plastic and took a puff just as he heard the back door open. He stood and watched Johnny and the woman trudge out into the dead grass, carrying a few bits of equipment, including a yoga ball, craning his head just enough to see them through the high window. And well, if he stood on the small desk chair to watch, who would know?

He couldn’t hear them but he watched her throw a few glances toward the window. And then Johnny hit her in the face with the yoga ball. She promptly slingshotted one of the resistance bands at his head in retaliation.

“Heh.”

The debrief later that morning with Laswell had gone as expected: More intel was good. Makarov not being spotted was bad. They needed time to heal. Farah and Alex would investigate possible gas caches just within Urzikstan’s borders.

The picture Gaz managed to grab was helpful and did verify a majority of the intel they had already. But it did mean that Makarov’s network was larger than they had ever thought. One of Laswell’s contacts had enhanced the slightly blurry picture and Simon recognized each of the 141’s faces, pinned to the board, too. They were targets just as much as she was. Small bits of paper stemmed from Price, Soap, and Kyle’s pictures and Simon knew what they represented even without the fancy tech trying to make it clearer. They were hunting for weak spots. Family. Friends.

They needed to leave. Keep low. Hide. Simon hated it. He hated that the others had families on the line and he could do nothing but take a few puffs of his stupid inhaler and wait. These were men who’d become his brothers-in-arms and their families were at risk. He knew what it was like to lose.

Price’s hacking cough basically ended the debrief and Laswell said she needed to make some calls, disappearing to another part of the base and Price griped as Kyle urged him to go back to medical. Johnny said he was going to start packing.

Simon walked away as Price continued to grumble and walked down the small hallway toward the bunk rooms and–

BANG.

Simon paused just for a moment, straining his ears as he pushed further down the hallway. With how the mission had gone, he couldn’t rule out that someone had attempted to get onto base and finish the job the gas couldn’t. There were security gates and checkpoints, of course. The high fences. And this part of the base was underdeveloped for now. But having a traitor in the midst wasn’t something Simon could write off.

“Fuck,” came an annoyed voice.

The tension slipped from his shoulders as he pushed open the nearest door.

Sitting in a chair in front of the mirror atop the tiny dresser, she was picking at her stitches with a pair of needle nose pliers. A small pile of the twists sat atop the dresser—apparently she’d been at this for a while. Simon walked in, watching as she leaned closer to the mirror, trying to see the stitches across her shoulder better as she plucked at them. She’d jammed her tongue between her teeth and the strap of her thin top had been tugged down. A book, probably pilfered from the breakroom, was open beside her.

(Simon stared. Just for a little.)

The pliers fell from her hands and bounced off the dresser before hitting the floor. That had been the sound he’d heard.

“Need a ‘and?”

She let out what he could only describe as a squeak as she turned toward him, hurling the book at his head as the pliers slipped from her other hand. He caught it without letting loose the laugh he felt growing.

“Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing there? Don’t you knock?”

“Heard something. Thought something bad ‘appened.” Not a lie. He tossed the book onto the bed. He watched her mouth curl at the edges and Simon wasn’t sure if she was going to yell at him or laugh.

“Right.” She stared at him for a little longer before bending down to grab the pliers again. She settled in front of the mirror again and stared at the remaining stitches. At least the ones she could see. Simon had a clear view of the mess of stitches on her back. She’d never reach those.

She stared back at him in the mirror. The grip she had on the pliers was tight and grew tighter when he stepped closer. But he still easily pulled the tool from her hand and then reached down to turn her chair around to face him.

“What’re you doing?” She asked as he started to untwist the next stitch.

“Helping.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Doin’ it anyway.”

Well, fuck.

You could do very little except stare at Ghost as he undid each of the stitches. You weren’t stupid enough to tell him to fuck off. What he was doing was nice. You couldn’t deny that but why the hell was he doing it? He was even bigger from this angle as he loomed over you. But he was being gentle with you, so gentle. And silent. Maybe it would be better if he talked to you through it all or said anything at all, but he was…quiet.

And so were you.

Until the door opened again and Gaz came in, gun drawn. You had pivoted back toward the door, only for a moment before Ghost let out a short, sharp breath from behind his mask and nudged you back into position. You still managed to see Gaz holster his weapon with a smile on his face, perfect teeth glinting in the low light. “All good here, LT?”

He grunted but didn’t turn to look at his teammate. You chanced a look up at Simon to see him still singularly focused on your stitches. His dark eyes didn’t stray from them even though you were sure he could feel you looking at him.

By the time he reached down to turn your chair again, letting him start on your back, you found yourself liking how quiet he was. Small talk had never been your forte and you surmised that it wasn’t high on Ghost’s list of skills either.

When his thumb pressed into your spine, covered by the harsh fabric of his gloves, you tried not to shiver as you let him move you so he could see the stitches better. And he removed those, too.

It was when his finger trailed against the new scar on your back, barely a whisper of a touch, that you couldn’t stop it. God, you really were pathetic. When he moved the strap of your shirt back up your shoulder, you managed to bite the next one back. “Thanks,” you said, the word uneven and warbled. “You going to help Soap take out his, too?” You weren’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not.

The way Ghost tilted his head made you think he wasn’t sure, either. “Cap did ‘is already. Looks like shit.”

And you laughed.

The nondescript SUV rocked slightly side to side as it tore down the road. Gaz seemed hellbent on getting wherever you were headed quickly. There had been some good-natured ribbing about not letting Ghost drive. They seemed to like each other, a good camaraderie between them that seemed as easy as breathing. But you guessed that would probably happen in their line of work. Defying death together usually did that. Price, however, did seem at least a little put out about not being the driver.

And you were stuck at the back of the SUV, listening to them talk amongst each other. To his credit, Soap and Gaz both tried to involve you in the conversation. They would ask what you had been doing in London, if you’d ever been outside the city, if your shoulder was giving you trouble. It was nice.

They were still nice.

You didn’t really understand why they were trying so hard but you weren’t about to ask. Especially not now when you had a black bag over your head. They didn’t really trust you but it had been a weird kindness when you’d felt Ghost buckle you in and place a light blanket over your lap before you’d departed. It was probably a silent order to go the fuck to sleep seeing as you hadn’t been sleeping well since you’d hastily weened yourself off the most intense pain killers. It didn’t help that you’d been shuffled outside right after midnight and told to get in the back of the vehicle without much fanfare. And you knew better than to argue.

You had a bag over your head and were heading to an unknown destination. The power dynamics didn’t exactly scream trustworthy. They kept you alive, that was true. But they didn’t trust you. Funny.

You leaned your head back against the seat and sighed, the fabric rustled against your mouth. It was a strange feeling. Weirdly comforting, like when you’d push your face into the pillow and scream when you were a child, desperate for an outlet.

“I can see why you like the mask,” you muttered.

“Whot?”

Hm. You said that out loud. Well, too late to take it back now. “I said I see why you like the mask.”

“She’s bloody insane,” Gaz whispered. But you liked to think he was smiling while he said it.

“Maybe Ghost’ll lend ye one of his? Ye two could match.”

There was an answering smack and “och, what was that for, LT?” before the blanket was adjusted over your lap.

“Go to sleep.”

You smiled beneath the bag. And, knowing you had nothing better to do…you went to sleep with Ghost’s low rumbling echoing in your ears.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

[pythonmoth]

Nanami Kento x Reader (gn)

workaholic nanami kento. soulmates au, just a one shot. might add a second part at some point in life.

note: this was my dream, literally. wrote it down in like five minutes bc it was fresh in my head, and now it's a one shot.

First | Next

Nanami's never been against soulmates, really, he's just... old for that. He's always busy with work and, even if he wanted to, he never has the time to look for his soulmate's mark. His is pretty simple, a splash of green with pink across his forearm —if that's the reason why he wears long sleeved shirts, that's his business—, so he only has to briefly look at people's forearms to know if they're his soulmate or not, never spending much time thinking about it.

He likes being on his own, or with his old friends and his family; he's not a hermit at all. Nanami often reads at home or at the public library, where he feels comfortable surrounded by strangers reading in silence, away from the rushed life outside; so imagine his surprise when he's distracted by someone bumping onto the table, cursing quietly as people look up at them. Nanami's eyes shift up, only a little annoyed by the interruption, hearing some mumbled grunts from the rest and then a soft apology. Nanami can't even blink, though, because he's too busy staring at you. 

You look in a hurry, rushing to the front door with a few books in your arms. Nanami will sigh to himself later on and admit he should've thought about it better, because he immediately rushes up, carelessly bookmarking the page as he tries to catch up with you, but you get in a car and drive away before Nanami can even get a good glimpse of your face, his chest aching. The air outside instantly slaps some sense into his brain and knows he can't possibly chase after you. Nanami blinks and rubs his face before going back into the library, feeling awkward and ridiculous.

Sitting back at the table, he just can't focus. And now he feels incredibly awful for his soulmate, whoever it is.

He knows that being someone's soulmate doesn't mean he's forced to be romantically involved with them, but that was the expectation for most people, so, what if you already had someone else? What if he did talk to you, and he found his soulmate after that? What if you both found your soulmate and he was left with whatever feelings are now filling his chest?

He gets up and sets the book back, forcing his mind to be blank as he drives home, not even caring to turn on the radio as usual. Nanami can't help but feel embarrassed of himself, getting so into it when he doesn't even know you. 

Maybe he should listen to Satoru —that is a new low for him—, and actually go out someday. And he will.

Really.

One day, when he has the time.

For now, his days go by as always.

Nanami works, and works, and works, and reads and eats, and works. He keeps looking for you at the library because he knows you will have to return the books at some point, but you don't show up during the first week.

And the second week, you don't come back.

Not for the third week.

Nor the fourth.

By the end of the month, Nanami's silently given up, mostly because he can't remember what you look like anymore. He tries to remember your embarrassed expression, the tone of your voice when you apologized, which books you got, or even what your hair looked like, but nothing comes to him. So, Nanami has accepted that he might not even recognize you if you ever come back. It's not like—

"Excuse me, is there's another copy of the book you're reading?" a voice asks quietly to his side, soft enough not to disturb the rest of the people at the table.

Nanami's skin tingles as the timber of your voice registers in his mind. He looks up and stares. He feels in a daze, as if drunk, too distracted paying attention to the shape of your nose, your eyes and the way your lips curl up in a soft smile, to realize your expression changes from shyness to embarrassment. He watches you rub the back of your neck. 

"Sorry", you say, giving him a flustered nod and taking a step back.

Nanami reacts before he realizes what he's doing, once again not thinking, and reaches out to gently grip your forearm in an attempt to stop you, standing up to look you in the eye. His heart pounds so hard he can hear the blood rushing to his ears.

"There's no other copy", Nanami manages, his tone quiet, closing the book with a hand and placing it in yours. "You can take it. I've read it before, so it's fine".

You look at him with surprise, something making your eyes twinkle, and Nanami doesn't understand but he can't look away. He can't question it because he's staring, again. Your hair smells like coconut, and there's something shiny on your lips —is it lip balm? is it his imagination or does it smell like watermelon?—, and your eyes are so glassy he can see himself in them. 

"Oh. Thank you", you mumble, your gaze shifting to his eyes and then down at the book in your hands, seemingly not caring for the hand gripping onto you.

Nanami's too busy drinking in your presence, thinking he must have run out of luck for the rest of his life if he got to see you again, that he doesn't realize your eyes are fixated on his covered forearms for a few moments.

He finally blinks when he sees your lips moving, catching the word a little late, barely breathing as he looks at you.

Nanami thinks of it as a win when you chuckle soundlessly.

"That's my name", you say quietly, looking amused, and holding out your hand for him. Only then does Nanami realize he's still gripping your forearm and lets go, his embarrassment cut off short when he sees your smile.

"Nanami Kento", he introduces himself, shaking your hand.

You both stand there in silence for a few moments, and then you let out a soft chuckle, making some people look up from their books. Nanami couldn't care less about them, his eyes completely fixed on you. He's very aware that neither of you have let go.

"Nanami, what are you doing tonight?"

this was fun. it's been sitting in my drafts since I came back to tumblr so! im not planning on making a full fic on it, maybe just another part to show you how they're doing.

i love nanami

that's all, thanks ♡

little taglist of the people that were interested: @an-ever-angry-bi @ssssssws-world @a-hidden-gem ty♡

♡

if you're new to my blog and you like CoD Simon "Ghost" Riley, I've got two fics you might like:

Traitor series

Never Gonna Be Alone

[lukasadss]

Watched the trailer for S2 right before having to leave for work in the morning, was dying to draw them all day <3

[inprnt | RB]

[tonycries]

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo,  pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father. 

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close? 

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was. 

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you. 

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.  

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you. 

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting. 

And oh was it interesting. 

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.  

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion. 

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second. 

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”   

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was. 

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought. 

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were. 

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh. 

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often. 

“Ah! Wha- Sato-” 

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart. 

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards. 

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach. 

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment. 

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son. 

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again. 

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined. 

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop. 

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not. 

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner. 

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again. 

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you. 

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom. 

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat. 

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting. 

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have. 

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and- 

Oh. Shit. 

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door.  Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily. 

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously. 

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins. 

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.” 

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. 

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way. 

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest. 

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.” 

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that  bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb. 

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.” 

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him. 

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full. 

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that. 

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming. 

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again. 

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed. 

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father. 

But that was exactly the problem. 

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out. 

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself. 

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right? 

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy. 

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice. 

Success. 

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh. 

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.” 

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would. 

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you. 

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck. 

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth. 

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission. 

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find. 

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. 

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away. 

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy.  Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet. 

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.”  he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting. 

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds. 

And then it was like something snapped. 

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams. 

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue. 

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before. 

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him. 

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it. 

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls. 

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face. 

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him. 

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high. 

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do. 

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip! 

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one. 

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you. 

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed. 

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin. 

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.” 

Shit had you said that out loud? 

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you. 

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs. 

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh. 

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need. 

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now. 

Of course, you were not one to be out-done. 

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle. 

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth. 

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet. 

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard. 

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards. 

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips. 

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust. 

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch. 

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in. 

“No.” 

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.” 

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing. 

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all. 

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you. 

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you  - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high. 

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you. 

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough. 

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams. 

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven. 

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

[calumcxke]

DISTRACTION

SUMMARY: staying over at your best friend’s apartment was nothing new to you- but when an unexpected thunderstorm strikes, soobin comforts you in his own way.

soobin x fem!reader

WARNINGS: reader is scared of thunder, slight panic attack, soobin has a mirror on his ceiling, dom!soobin, sub!reader, dry humping, fingering, oral (f rec.), overstimulation, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, mirror sex, slight exhibitionism (hueningkai is still in the apartment)

wc: 9.1k

notes! this was my friend’s idea (@bluetyunhour) originally that she came up with for me since i have a fear of thunder.. this is also barely proofread,,, sorry!

you sighed quietly as you knocked on the door. your muscles were aching, and you swore you could feel your head beginning to pound. the door opened slowly, revealing a sweat-clad hueningkai standing on the other side.

“y/n!” he opened the door more, allowing you to walk inside. you shot him a tight lipped smile, walking over to the couch and letting your bag drop.

“where is everyone?” you ask, stretching your hands above your head.

“yeonjun’s out. soobin’s in his room,” he replied, walking over to the couch before plopping down. you nodded and thanked him before heading off to soobin’s room.

opening the door quietly, you were met with a relatively dark room, mostly lit up by the colors emanating from soobin’s pc.

“soobin?” you poked your head through the door, watching as he looked up from his game, a smile growing on his face the second he recognized you.

“hey.”

“hi,” you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you.

“how was school?” he paused his game, his full attention on you for the time being.

“so tiring. i need to relax,” you sighed, the pounding in your head finally becoming noticeable.

soobin stared at you for a second before chuckling lightly.

“you can take a nap in my bed,” soobin spoke, “i’m gaming with beomgyu, but i’ll try and be quiet.”

the exhaustion in your eyes was evident, and you took him up on his offer happily, practically ready to just sleep on the ground at that point.

“oh, wait,” he stood up quickly, heading over to his tv to turn it on, “is jujutsu kaisen okay with you?”

you laughed quietly, getting situated under his covers, “i’m gonna be sleeping through it. put whatever on, soob.”

“whatever you say,” he smiled, walking back to his pc, “sleep well.”

you hummed in response, turning over to your side as you snuggled up, letting your eyes flutter shut as sleep began to envelop you.

you were grateful for this tradition. getting to hang out with your best friends after a long day of school. it didn’t matter if everyone was busy, just being able to be around them and enjoy each other’s company was enough for you.

you had to admit, ever since you started working along with going to college it got much harder to hang out, but you would always find ways to hang out with them multiple times a week, sometimes crashing on the couch overnight before leaving early for class the next day.

while you slowly lost consciousness, you listened to jujutsu kaisen playing quietly in the back, and the sounds of soobin tapping his keyboard as he talked with beomgyu quietly.

-

you woke up a good hour and a half later, feeling a bit more well rested.

you slowly sat up in bed, stretching your arms above your head as your eyes focused on soobin across from you.

all you could see from where you sat was the back of his head, and sometimes a glimpse of his side profile if he turned his head a bit.

you were pretty bored at this point, not knowing what else to do and deciding you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

soobin wouldn’t mind if you asked him to hang out, right?

you slowly crawled to the edge of the bed, calling out his name quietly.

“soobin.”

he didn’t hear, too engrossed with his game as he continued talking to beomgyu and hitting keys on his keyboard.

you reached your hand out to tap his shoulder lightly, “soobin.”

he jumped slightly at the action, pausing his game to turn around and look at you, slowly removing his headphones as he gave you an expectant look.

“what’s up?” he asked, fluffing his hair with one hand.

you cleared your throat, your eyes flickering across soobin’s face, suddenly aware of how attractive he really was. you blushed slightly, trying to not let it show how much of an effect he had on you. something about his hair in the dim light was getting to you.

“i was just, uhm.. bored,” you spoke quietly, now feeling embarrassed for pulling him out of his game to cater to your needs.

his face softened a bit, looking at his game before looking back at you, “you wanna hang out?”

“only if you want,” you sat back on your heels, trying not to look too desperate, but you were really bored and fiending for some attention at this point. and your eyes might have kept wandering to soobin’s lips a bit too much, or maybe it was you following his hand with your eyes as he brushed back his hair.

what you didn’t know was that he noticed everything, every little glimpse and action. he knew you were into him. but he wasn’t going to point that out.

“i would, but me and beomgyu still have a few hours of gaming left,” he responded with an apologetic look, trying to ignore the way your face visibly dropped at his sentence.

“how many?”

“like, uh, three,” he said, an embarrassed look on his face. you glanced at the clock to see it was already 10pm.

“oh, okay,” you responded, slowly beginning to scoot yourself back on the bed, “i’ll just go back to sleep.”

“you sure?” he turned around more, reaching for the tv remote, presumably ready to give it to you.

“yeah, i’m sure. don’t worry about it, i’m still tired anyway,” you yawned, lying back down and turning on your side, “i’ll talk to you later. night, soob.”

he hummed out a goodnight in response, before putting his headphones back on and turning around.

you were disappointed, you weren’t even going to lie. were you less important than the game to him? soobin would usually drop whatever he was doing to hang out with you when you came over, so of course you felt a bit discouraged right now.

but a part of you felt guilty for wanting his attention all to yourself. he was just trying to talk to beomgyu, and they deserve that without you whining. you decided to not ponder on it too much, and honestly soobin’s sheets were too comfortable for you to stay awake any longer. your thoughts became muddled as you once again let your eyes shut and went to sleep.

-

you woke up to the smell of ramen invading your nostrils. you really thought you were imagining things at first until you realized the smell was in fact right next to you.

you opened your eyes to see a large bowl of ramen, and a plate of kimchi sitting next to it. you smiled brightly as you took in the smell more, letting the comforting smell warm you up.

your mouth was watering as you took the first bite, letting out an audible hum and savoring the taste.

you figured soobin had to have made it at some point while you were asleep, looking up to see him taking a sip from his drink, head thrown back as he was close to finishing the bottle.

your eyes flickered to his adam’s apple, maybe staring for a bit longer than you needed to.

you silently thanked him in your head, not wanting to disrupt his gaming anymore, before taking another bite of the yummy dinner.

you didn’t even know if it could be called dinner anymore considering it was 11pm, but you were hungry.

you got lost in thought, eyes focusing in on soobin’s hands moving quickly across the keys, letting your gaze move to his head, watching his side profile become illuminated by his pc when he turned his head slightly.

it was eerily quiet in the room. soobin had turned the tv off at some point, the only light source in his room being his pc.

once again, your eyes dropped to his hands. long, skinny fingers hitting the keys quickly, sliding all over the keyboard as he typed a message out. a part of you felt bad for staring, but what could you say? soobin was attractive. anyone could see it.

you were lucky enough to call him your best friend, but there were certain points you wished you could be able to call him more.

small taps broke you out of your daydreaming, looking out the window to your left to see rain hitting the glass.

well, that’s amazing.

you didn’t remember seeing that it was gonna rain at all, and it was picking up pretty quickly, the soft taps on the window turning into fat droplets pelting the glass.

you grabbed your phone off the bedside table, opening the weather app only to see that it was going to be raining for the next few days.

and not just raining. storming. there was supposed to be thunder, lighting, and flash floods. you quickly accepted the fact you weren’t going home tonight, and if it was going to be storming like they were predicting you probably weren’t going to be leaving the apartment until it was over.

you slowly put your phone back down, going back to slowly eating your food, this time deciding to take a small bite out of the kimchi lying next to your ramen.

your attention was taken away from the food when you heard soobin shuffling in his seat.

he had turned around to look at you, seeming surprised you were awake.

“you’re up?”

“yeah, uhm, i just woke up like five minutes ago,” you responded, taking another bite of kimchi, “thanks for the food.”

he smiled, “it’s no problem, i felt bad for not being able to hang out. beomgyu just really wants to play games tonight since he’s not free any other day.”

“no, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you were still slightly disappointed, but you weren’t going to let that show.

“also, it’s supposed to be raining for the rest of the night, i guess it’s gonna storm pretty bad,” you added.

soobin turned to look out the window, nodding at the sight, “well, you can sleep in here then, it’s gonna be too cold on the couch.”

you shook your head softly. the couch was already pretty cold on normal nights, so you didn’t even want to imagine how cold it was going to be if you slept on it tonight. you were glad soobin was offering up his bed, but that meant he was going to be cold.

“i don’t want you sleeping on the couch either,” you spoke quietly.

he tilted his head at you, lips pouting a bit, “who said i was sleeping on the couch?”

oh.

oh.

your lips parted into a small ‘o’ as you processed his words, just nodding at him. you were totally fine. you could do this! sharing a bed with soobin? your best friend? no big deal. you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers as you bit your lip, trying to ignore the feeling of soobin’s eyes on you.

soobin watched you for a bit, waiting for your reply which never came. he slowly turned around and went back to his game, unpausing it to join beomgyu again.

you picked up your phone once again, confirming to yourself that it was going to be storming. you put your phone down, deciding the best thing to do at this point was sleep, you hated storms, you didn’t wanna have to deal with them and considering you left your headphones at your house you had nothing to help you.

slowly climbing out of bed, you trudged over to soobin, watching the small smile on his face as he chuckled at something beomgyu said. you tapped him on his shoulder lightly and he turned to look at you quickly, telling beomgyu to hold on a second.

“yes?” he asked, taking in the tired look in your eyes.

“i’m gonna go to sleep, just wanted to let you know,” you answered, giving him a small smile before heading back to the bed.

“goodnight, sleep well,” was all he said in response before turning back to his game.

as you climbed under the covers you couldn’t help but feel even more disappointed at the fact soobin was once again choosing his game over you.

what you didn’t know was that soobin felt terrible and he wanted more than anything to spend time with you. if you had come on any other day, it would’ve been perfectly fine. but him and beomgyu haven’t been able to hang out like this in weeks and he wanted to be able to spend time with his other best friend too. with the screen going black on his pc in between levels, he saw your pouty frame sitting in bed and holding onto his bunny plushie, before sighing and finally lying down.

he slowly lifted one of his headphones off of one of his ears, just barely enough so he could hear the outside noise well. just in case you needed anything, he would be able to hear clearly.

you were getting more comfortable in soobin’s sheets, nearly on the edge of passing out. sleep was starting to reach out for you, ready to envelope you in it’s soft embrace, lulling you off into dreamland. you snuggled your face further into soobin’s pillow, consciousness slipping further away from you- then a strike of thunder.

a loud gasp tore itself from your throat as you shot upright, gripping onto the sheets beside you as you tried to catch your breath. almost as fast as you shot up, soobin was spinning around in his chair to see your shaking frame.

“y/n? are you okay? what happened?” he questioned, staring at you with wide eyes.

“nothing, nothing,” your voice shook as you answered, “just a bad dream.”

you weren’t entirely sure if he believed you, he didn’t say anything for a couple seconds and just stared at you, and all you could do was hope another boom of thunder didn’t reverberate through the sky.

“are you sure?” he pressed further.

“i’m fine, soobin. don’t worry about me,” you smiled, a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach your eyes, but it was enough for soobin to nod at you and turn back around towards his game, still being sure to keep one headphone off of his ear.

letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you slowly situated yourself back under the covers, trying to calm your breathing while snuggling further into soobin’s covers.

another boom or thunder shook the sky, your eyes scrunching shut as you held on tighter to soobin’s blanket, trying to ignore the loud noises. every time you were calming down more, another loud boom would follow, the sound filling your eardrums and causing panic to rise within you.

your knuckles were turning white from the hold you had on the sheets, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your breathing quickened. you just wanted the noise to stop. you hatred thunder.

ever since you were a little kid, you had memories of hiding under tables to get away from the thunder, letting out loud, wailing sobs as you clung onto your mom after she dragged you out, crying that you were scared of the loud noises in the sky. it was a fear that never truly went away, always sure to carry headphones with you if you knew it was going to rain so you could pop them in if thunder started and block the noises out of your mind. that however, wasn’t working today.

a small tear escaped your eye, followed by many more. you were trying to remain quiet, trying to calm your breathing which wasn’t really doing much, trying to push the fear out of your mind. small sniffles could be heard from you, burying your head further into soobin’s sheets, doing anything to drown out the noise.

you jumped at the feeling of a hand gently placing itself over yours, their thumb caressing your knuckles lightly. opening your eyes softly, soobin was kneeling next to the bed, concerned eyes looking into your teary eyes.

“are you scared of the thunder?” he spoke, glancing out the window before turning back to you.

you shook your head, staring at him, “no.”

“you’re scared of the thunder,” he replied.

“no, i’m not-” you tried to refute, but a crash of thunder sounded, your body tensing at the sound.

soobin stared at you for a bit with a solemn look on his face, his hand coming up to your face to wipe away your falling tears. you tried to ignore the way your breath hitched, and how your eyes widened slightly.

he stood up abruptly, startling you slightly, “come with me,” he spoke, holding out his hand for you to take.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, but you knew you could trust him. you raised your hand slowly and grabbed onto his as you flung your legs over the edge of the bed, pushing yourself off to stand up.

you let him guide you over to his computer, his hands dropping to your waist to maneuver you to sit in his chair, giving you a small smile before he grabbed his headset.

“hey, beomgyu, y/n is gonna play with us for a bit. she’s taking my spot,” he explained into the microphone, and you heard a muffled response from the other side, not being able to make out what beomgyu was saying.

he pulled the headset off of his head, placing it over your ears and motioning for you to speak.

“hi,” you stammered, your hands resting on the edge of soobin’s desk, not wanting to mess up anything.

“hey y/n! i was getting sick of playing with that loser, i’m glad you’re here,” beomgyu responded, and you couldn’t help the abrupt laugh that slipped past your lips, lifting your head to look at soobin with a smile.

“what?” soobin asked with a confused look on his face, “is he talking shit about me?”

you shook your head, looking back down towards the screen, “well, i’m really bad at gaming. i wouldn’t get too happy. what even is this game?”

“we’re basically connected by a rope, and we have to work together to get the key that leads you to the next level. it’s mostly teamwork,” he explained while you nodded along to his words, forgetting he couldn’t see you.

“okay, i can do this. that sounds easy enough,” you smiled, your voice more determined as you placed your hands on the keyboard, looking up to soobin to make sure you were using the correct keys. he nodded, and you looked back down, ready to start.

you started walking forward, beomgyu’s character moving with yours, beomgyu going to jump while you fell, dragging both of your characters down.

you sucked in some air, your face scrunching up, “sorry! i didn’t mean to do that.”

you heard beomgyu’s muffled laugh on the other side, “you’re fine. not everyone can be an amazing gamer like i am.”

a soft giggle escaped your lips, shaking your head as you played along with an exaggerated tone to your voice, “oh, right, i’m so sorry. i’ll get it right next time.”

you lied. you had tried six more times, and the same exact thing happened every time. you were starting to feel more embarrassed and you could tell beomgyu was getting slightly restless.

you weren’t on time with beomgyu, you would jump too early and he would fall, or you would jump too late and he would fall. you looked down with an embarrassed look as a sigh left your lips.

“i’m sorry, beomgyu. i told you i wasn’t good at this,” you muttered, your hands coming up to cover your face.

“it’s okay, we’ve got this,” he reassured you, sensing how nervous you were starting to get.

“here,” soobin chimed in from behind you, his hands reaching around you to grab your wrists lightly, “put your hands on the keys.”

you nodded, lowering your hands to place them on the keyboard again, situating yourself in a more upright position.

you felt soobin place his fingers on top of yours, his warm touch sending a shiver up your arms. you sucked in a breath, one you were sure both beomgyu and soobin heard. you clenched your eyes shut for a second in embarrassment and wished soobin didn’t have this much of an effect on you.

“i’ll help you,” he whispered, leaning down so his head was next to yours. if you weren’t wearing the headset he would’ve been whispering directly into your ear. you pushed away the lustful thoughts that filled your brain, clearing your throat and nodding at his words.

“okay..” you squeaked, your voice small. this was humiliating.

“soobin’s gonna help me, beomgyu,” you informed him, soobin guiding your hand to click the restart button on the level, the screen flashing as you two were once again at the starting point.

“i heard him, don’t worry,” he spoke, and you smiled slightly. soobin’s hands pressed down on your fingers, guiding your character to move, quickly getting through the part you were struggling with before.

“not so hard, was it?” he asked so quietly, it was almost a whisper. you turned your head to the side slightly, your breath coming out shaky when you realized how close your faces were.

you nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with a small smile, “yeah..”

getting through the levels after that was easy, and you had gotten accustomed to the feeling of soobin being so close to you. you were bickering with beomgyu, the two of you talking about everything while you went through the levels, with the occasional jab towards soobin beomgyu would make.

you would laugh every time, soobin simply shaking his head. he was close enough to your ear to hear what beomgyu was saying, responding to the insults and listening to the way beomgyu would get quiet before bursting out with a laugh, not knowing soobin had heard him.

you had completely forgotten about the storm at this point, too caught up in the game as the levels got harder and harder. to be fair, you were barely doing any work. but it was still fun to at least be playing a part in it.

“okay, we have to lock in. this level is gonna be hard,” beomgyu said, and you heard him take a deep breath as you looked at the screen in front of you.

it definitely didn’t look easy.

“soobin, better work hard-“ beomgyu began to tease, his voice cutting out as soobin’s computer shut off, leaving the room pitch black. your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the screen, turning to face soobin with a concerned look.

he mirrored your expression, turning to look at the screen, “uh.. let me..”

he bent down, checking the plugs and clicking the keyboard a couple times, a slight hum leaving him.

“i don’t know what happened, everything is still connected,” he mumbled, standing back up to look down at you.

a loud knock on the door caused you to jump slightly, soobin turning around to look.

“yeah?,” he called, waiting for a reply.

“the power went out!” hueningkai called from the other side, and soobin turned to look back at you, the computer turning off suddenly making a lot more sense.

“oh, makes sense,” he responded, reaching down to pull the headphones off of your ears and place them on the table next to you. the two of you shared an embarrassed look, both wondering why you didn’t think of that at first.

“hey, where’s y/n? i haven’t seen her,” hueningkai continued. you looked up at soobin with a small smile, a soft giggle leaving you.

“she’s in here. she’s staying with me tonight,” he responded, smiling back at you.

“oh,” he mumbled, a pause before his next words, “okay. goodnight.”

“goodnight,” the two of you called back, listening as hueningkai’s footsteps descended from the door. silence surrounding the two of you once again.

it was hard to see soobin at all. the room was pitch black, and he looked like a silhouette in front of you, nothing more.

“i’m gonna go get some candles,” he blurted, breaking the silence and beginning to make a move for the door.

your hand moved before you could think too much about it, grabbing onto his wrist and stopping him from going any further. well, let’s be honest, you weren’t stopping him at all. he could’ve kept walking if he wanted to. but he stopped for you.

“don’t go,” you whispered, your grip on his wrist loosening as you lowered your hand back down into your lap, beats of silence passing as you waited for his response.

he hummed quietly, turning back towards you, “okay.”

he was standing so close to you, looking down at you, and from the proximity you could make out his eyes, a sly smile playing on his lips as he spoke, “you’re really dependent on me, aren’t you?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, a laugh leaving you, “shut up.”

he did, surprisingly. he tilted his head to the side, almost observing you. a loud crash of thunder filled the room with noise, your eyes clenching shut as your body went rigid.

“soobin,” you squeaked out, not even realizing his name had left your lips as you looked up at him, panic flashing across your face.

you felt your eyes grow watery, a pout forming on your lips as you met his eyes. he looked like he was once again trying to figure out what to do. he couldn’t distract you with technology this time, he couldn’t block out the noise for you. a small tear slipped down your face, a broken whimper leaving your lips as more thunder sounded throughout the quiet room. you couldn’t even be embarrassed about crying over thunder at this point. you were so overwhelmed.

soobin’s hands reached under your legs, pulling them towards him, before reaching his arms behind your chest and lifting you up, holding you bridal style.

a small part of your mind flickered to how strong he was, how easily he was able to pick you up and how easily he was able to carry you.

he shuffled over to the bed, lighting tossing your body down as you landed with a quiet “oomph”. your eyes flickered down towards him, trying to make out where he was in the darkness.

you saw him lift one leg up onto the bed, leaning his upper body over you as he held eye contact with you, not saying anything, just watching how you reacted to him.

he slowly began to crawl up your body, the only noise being your shaky breaths and the rain hitting the window. shivers erupted across your body as you felt him get higher.

what the fuck is he doing? you thought to yourself, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as you watched him.

he was so close now, leaning right over your face. a lightning strike lit up the room, your eyes meeting soobin’s more clearly. there was desire evident in his eyes, your mind going haywire. you had to have been imagining that, right? there’s no way.

he leaned down very slightly, his voice quiet and breathy as he spoke, “do you want me to help you?”

a small gasp slipped past your lips, your eyes wide. you couldn’t say anything. the words wouldn’t leave your mouth. this was not happening. this was not reality.

he leaned down, his face so, so close to yours, before he moved his head towards your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he continued, “use your words. yes or no.”

a shiver ran down your spine, a shaky breath leaving your lips as your body finally forced the words out, “yes. please.”

you felt him smile against your ear, lifting his head once again so he was hovering over you. he reached one hand out to wipe the still-wet tears on your face, his thumb then trailing down to your lips and pulling your bottom lip down before letting it slap back into place.

god, he was so hot. you sucked in a breath of air at the action, your eyes locked on his as began to lean down.

it was soft. his lips were so soft, slowly moving against your own as he titled your head up slightly to access your mouth better. a soft whine slipped past your lips, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders.

he pulled away, looking into your eyes. this was your best friend. you were kissing your best friend. your hands slid up to his hair, tangling themselves in his roots and tugging slightly, hearing him suck in a breath of air before his lips were back against yours.

his tongue prodded lightly at your bottom lip, and you obliged easily, opening your mouth to let him in. he was so gentle with his kisses, but they were all-consuming at the same time. his hand that was on your jaw moved down your body, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt before he pushed his hand under slowly.

a gasp left your lips at the feeling of his cold hand on your warm stomach, his large hand splayed out on your abdomen. he wasn’t moving it, just holding it there, like he was waiting for you to tell him to stop. like he wanted you to tell him this was a bad idea.

you didn’t. you would never. fuck, you’ve wanted him for so long, you weren’t going to cut things off now.

his mouth was pushing harder against yours, his kisses getting slightly more rough. your thighs rubbed together while your fingers found themselves tugging at his hair once again. you felt him smirk against your lips, his hand finally beginning to inch up your abdomen.

another crash of thunder. your lips stuttered against his, the grip you had on his hair loosening at the sound. you were so enthralled, you had forgotten why you two started making out in the first place.

he pulled away from you slightly, just enough so he could speak, your lips still brushing each other so very lightly.

“focus on me. not the thunder. i’m right here,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck.

you only nodded at his words. you felt like you were in a dream at this point. his lips softly kissed at your neck, nipping slightly in certain spots before he made sure to run his tongue over the spot, pressing a small kiss before moving on to another spot.

you rolled your head back against the sheets, giving him all the access he needed as a quiet moan slipped past your lips. a fleeting thought of how you would explain this to hueningkai in the morning popped into your mind but you decided that was a problem for tomorrow.

you felt his fingers reach the bottom of your bra before stopping and tapping your skin lightly. you guessed he was asking if it was okay to keep going further.

“yes,” you spoke, your voice breathy and sounding foreign to yourself. he hadn’t even done anything to you yet. his hand moved up higher, cupping your bra-covered breast in his hand and giving it a light squeeze.

a moan slipped past your lips before you shut your mouth quickly. you had forgotten you weren’t alone for a second. you felt him laugh against your neck, his breath tickling you and the sound so soft. he sat up, the hand that was holding himself up moving to the bottom of your shirt.

“can i take this off?,” his voice was quiet, but it wasn’t nervous. no, he sounded confident. it only turned you on more, a whine slipping past your lips as you nodded your head, arching your back slightly to make it easier for him.

he pulled your shirt over your head quickly, tossing it to a random corner in the room before he was leaving down, his lips latching on to your chest. you sucked in a breath at the action.

“soobin,” you whispered quietly, your voice shaky and ridden with need. you didn’t know where to put your hands, they were going from his shoulder, to his hair, to his biceps.

his hand snaked under your back and you lifted yourself off the bed as best you could as he undid your bra. you tried not to let the fact that he did it effortlessly with one hand linger for too long in your mind. he slid your bra off your body slowly, before leaning back down to press a kiss on your now exposed breast, his other hand coming up to play with the other one. his lips latched onto your nipple, lolling his tongue over the pebbled skin and you swore you were going to go insane.

gasps and whines were leaving your lips as he continued to pleasure both of ur breasts, humming against your exposed flesh. he pulled away just slightly, his hand continuing to squeeze and caress your other breast as he mumbled, “you’re so pretty, fuck.”

“more,” you whimpered out, any proper responses long gone from your mind at this point. your hands clawed at his shirt as best you could, trying to pull it over his head. he got the memo, sitting up and tugging the offensive piece of clothing off of him, your eyes taking in his now exposed chest.

it wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before- no, you had seen him shirtless hundreds of times. this felt different. so, so different.

he leaned back down, trailing kisses down your torso while his hands roamed before finally setting on the hem of your sweats, “lift for me.”

you pushed your hips off the bed slightly, giving him access to pull your sweats and panties down slowly. you heard a small gasp escape his lips, your legs pushing together out of instinct, “you’re soaking, y/n, fuck.”

he hummed, shaking his head before pulling your legs apart, “don’t hide from me.” you whined softly as your head lolled to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you shouldn’t be embarrassed, really. but nerves were still coursing through your body, your eyes clenching shut.

“hey.” his hands rubbed your thighs lightly, pulling your attention back to him, “why are you so nervous?”

you didn’t say anything for a bit, pursing your lips as you thought of a response. “you make me nervous,” you finally mumbled out, looking down at him slowly.

he chuckled softly, his fingers moving further up your thighs, closer to where you needed him. a soft gasp left your lips, your eyes widening slightly. he hummed, his eyes flickering down and back up, “i do?”

you nodded, a small- and borderline embarrassing- whimper slipping past your lips. your hips wiggled slightly despite your nerves, trying to get him closer to where you needed him. “soobin, please,” you gasped out, your eyes staring into his.

he finally obliged, one of his fingers sliding through your folds, a sharp gasp leaving you. “keep your eyes on the mirror, baby,” he mumbled, giving you a smirk as your head fell back, your eyes barely being able to make out the sight that was being reflected on the mirror.

“want you to watch as i ruin you,” he continued, your body tensing at his words. god, you were not making it out of this. his fingers slid up to your clit, slowly massaging the bundle of nerves. your breathing sped up, a soft moan slipping past your lips as your hands grabbed onto the sheets beside you.

“soob, please. need you so bad,” you whined, grinding your hips up into his hand. his other hand moved to your abdomen, pushing down to keep your hips in place. a moan left you, your hands moving from the sheets to his hair.

“patience,” he replied, a teasing lilt to his voice. his fingers moved from your clit, two of his fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing in slowly. you moaned softly, your head rolling back. “eyes on the mirror,” he mumbled a reply, pulling his fingers out almost all the way before pushing them back in.

you didn’t really hear him, focusing too heavily on the feeling of his fingers. until you felt him latch onto your clit, his lips sucking lightly and drawing a mix of a moan and a gasp from your lips, “fuck!”

you pulled your vision back to the mirror, the sight barely illuminated, the only thing visible being your silhouettes- which were still incredibly hard to see. your fingers tugged at soobin’s hair, trying your best to contain your sounds as you bit your lip so hard you were sure you could draw blood soon.

he was licking and sucking at your clit, his fingers speeding up inside of you, the wet sounds that were leaving your pussy were something you would have normally been embarrassed by, but you were too far gone by this point.

whispers of his name and profanities were leaving your lips, your hands gripping his hair harder as he hummed against you, sending a chill throughout your body. you felt the first tingling’s of your orgasm creeping up on you, your legs threatening to close around his head.

“soobin- soobin ‘m close..” you struggled out between whines, unable to do anything besides take what he was giving you, throwing your head back against the pillow.

soobin removed his fingers, moving his hands to hold either of your thighs down as he moved his tongue, licking a long stripe up your heat. one of your hands flew from his hair to your mouth, struggling to hold in the noises leaving your lips at this point.

“you’re so fucking wet. tastes so good,” he mumbled against your lips, licking and sucking harder as he pushed your legs further apart, practically making out with your cunt, “you gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my tongue?”

you nodded dumbly, too close to your orgasm to process his words or anything that was happening around you besides the feeling creeping up on you. your eyes were trained on the ceiling, your orgasm growing tighter, so close to falling over the edge.

a lightning strike lit up the room, giving you a perfect view of soobin’s head in between your thighs, your hand gripping his hair, and your fucked out face. you stared back at your reflection, the familiar feeling creeping up on you all too quickly.

“fuck, i’m gonna-“ you started, your orgasm cutting you off as your back arched into the air, your hand tugging harder at soobin’s hair. your body shook, his hands pushing your thighs down harder as he groaned into your cunt, the feeling heightening your orgasm. muffled whines pushed their way past your lips, although your hand was trying its best to muffle the noises.

soobin wasn’t slowing down. even as you started to come down from your orgasm, tinges of overstimulation mixing pain with pleasure, he kept going. “soobin.. too much,” you whimpered, your hand falling from your mouth to grab onto his hair, attempting to push his head away.

“you taste so good,” he responded, his voice muffled and sending vibrations up your core, your legs twitching at the feeling.

“soobin,” you mewled, tears welling up in your eyes as you attempted to push your thighs together, your head falling to the side.

he lifted his head, looking up at your shaking form with a small smirk adorning his lips, “you can give me one more, can’t you?”

he went back to eating you out almost immediately, except this time he removed one of his hands from your thigh, pushing two of his fingers inside your dripping hole, beginning to thrust them in and out.

you threw your head back, a gasp falling from your lips as your hands tugged at his hair. “i can’t.. soobin,” you whimpered, tears falling down your face at the feeling.

he moved his free hand, once again pressing his hand down on your stomach as he sped up his fingers, the feeling pushing you close to the edge once again. you but your lip hard, holding in the noises threatening to leave your lips as he continued his ministrations.

you couldn’t even give soobin a warning this time, your second orgasm crashing over you as your eyes rolled back, your pussy gushing all over his fingers and face.

he helped you ride out your orgasm, slowly pulling his fingers out of you once it started becoming too much again. he pressed a soft kiss to your sensitive clit, your legs jumping slightly at the feeling.

he pushed himself back up your body, enveloping your lips in a soft kiss. you tasted yourself on his lips, humming quietly into the kiss. he ground himself against your core, his bulge applying the perfect amount of friction against your clit. you gasped against his lips as your head tilted back slightly.

he looked down at you, a teasing expression on his face, “what’s wrong?”

you couldn’t care less that he was teasing you at this point, grinding your core up against him. “need you,” you mumbled.

“yeah?” he teased, continuing to grind his hard cock against you. he wanted to be inside you so bad, his sweats were painful at this point and your pussy was providing the perfect amount of friction for him. he wanted to keep teasing you, to see how far he could push you, but his self control was shattering more every second.

he pulled away, a whine falling from your lips at the feeling disappearing. you looked up at him with a pout, “why’d you stop?”

“i’d rather you come on my cock,” he replied simply, his words rendering you speechless. he tugged his sweats and underwear down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. the tip was red and leaking, your mouth dropping open at the sight. he stroked himself a few times with his hand, a cocky smile on his lips when he noticed your reaction.

“holy shit,” you mumbled, a new wave of arousal washing over you. he leaned his body over yours once more, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“are you ready?” he asked softly, lining himself up with your entrance. you nodded quickly, letting out a desperate hum as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him back down to your lips. he reciprocated the kiss immediately, pushing his hips forward slowly and enveloping himself in your tight heat.

you gasped, your lips separating from his as your face scrunched up and a moan spilled past your lips, closing your mouth quickly. soobin’s eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued to move forward slowly, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

you couldn’t get any words out, noises stuck in your throat as he practically split you open on his cock. he finally bottomed out, his thighs flush against the back of yours. you could feel every ridge and vein, a deep breath leaving him as he spoke, his voice shaky, “i’m gonna start moving.”

“okay,” you whispered, a whine slipping past your lips as he pulled out, pushing himself back in quicker than before. you couldn’t think straight, your mind muddled and completely focused on how good you felt right now, how soobin was fucking you just right, setting a perfect rhythm.

“soobin, fuck,” you mumbled, your hands moving to his neck, his arms, his back, anywhere that you could get a hold of to ground yourself. the sound of skin slapping skin reverberated quietly throughout the room, the both of you trying your best to be quiet, but, fuck, it was hard.

“gonna make you cum on my cock. make you forget about everything else,” he sighed, his hand coming down to push on your stomach, your eyes rolling back at the pressure, “fuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.”

he stopped his movement, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips as you looked up at him, “no- no, don’t stop.”

he didn’t answer, grabbing your legs and pressing them to your chest, holding them there by the back of your knees as he started to move again, the new angle making him feel even deeper. “fuck, oh my god,” you whimpered, throwing your head back against the pillow. he had you practically locked under his hold, unable to do anything besides take all of him.

a certain thrust had him pushing up right against your g-spot, a broken gasp leaving your lips as your hand shot out to the sides, gripping the sheets as your eyes rolled back. soobin caught on quickly, rolling his hips up against the same spot, “right there?”

“yes, yes, please, oh my god,” you babbled, trying your best to hold the sounds threatening to push past your lips in. he picked up his pace more, hitting the perfect spot repeatedly. you felt your high growing quickly, the band getting ready to snap.

“soobin, i’m close,” you whined, his hand immediately coming down to rub circles on your clit. the added stimulation pushed you even closer to the edge, your eyes clenching shut.

“me too, baby. gonna stuff you full of my cum,” he groaned out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the edge, “you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“pleeease, i need it. need your cum,” you whine, your hands pulling at the sheets harder as you feel the band in your stomach growing tighter, “i’m gonna cum- soob!”

he sped up his thrusts, rubbing harder at your clit, “cum for me.”

his words pushed you over the edge, your toes clenching and eyes rolling back as your orgasm exploded, your release gushing all over his cock. your pussy clenched tightly around him, making it harder for soobin to move as he groaned, watching how your face contorted as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure.

“fuck, baby. squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up,” his voice was strangled and shaky, his hips slamming against yours as he shot his cum inside you, throwing his head back and clenching his eyes shut. he rocked his hips slowly against yours, helping the two of you ride out your highs.

your breathing slowed down as your body relaxed into the sheets, trying to process what had just happened. his forehead dropped against yours softly as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before releasing your legs, them instantly falling down by your sides.

“hey,” he whispered against your lips, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hands came up to your face, pressing another kiss to your lips before he continued, “want you to ride me.”

your eyes snapped open, staring into his eyes with an exasperated look, “soobin, i’ve come three times already. i can’t do another one.”

“oh, but i think you can,” he smiled, looking out the window before turning back to you, “besides, it’s still thundering outside.”

you couldn’t even get an answer out before he was flipping the two of you over, a gasp leaving your mouth as your hands shot out to his chest to steady yourself. the new position had him hitting different spots inside you, your pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

a corner of his lip lifted, his hand slapping your ass lightly, “turn around for me, baby.”

you obliged, pulling off of him with shaky legs as you both winced at the feeling as you moved your body, positioning yourself over him once again. you were trying to ignore the soreness in your legs, grabbing his now hard dick and aligning him with your entrance before slowly sinking down.

you bit your lip hard, holding back the moan of pleasure, a small whimper slipping out instead. “fuck, soobin,” you whined, your head dropping to your chest as you continued to lower yourself, finally feeling him bottom out.

“just like that, doing so good for me, hm?” he mumbled, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he helped guide your movements, your mouth falling open at the new feeling. you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on his cock, your hands steadying themselves on his thighs, helping you move quicker as you bit back moans and cries.

your legs were stinging, threatening to give out on you as you tried to keep going and push yourself through the pain. it didn’t work, your legs dropping down as you took a deep breath. you tried to lift yourself up again, but soobin’s hands held you in place.

“relax,” he murmured quietly, bending his knees and pushing his feet into the mattress, his hips thrusting up into yours and immediately setting a brutal pace. you couldn’t fight the loud cry that left your lips, one of your hands slapping up to your mouth as you tried your best to muffle the desperate sounds leaving you.

he was so deep, hitting you in places that had tears welling up in your eyes, your hand gripping onto his thigh like a lifeline. “too much!” you cried, the hand on your mouth dropping down to his other thigh to hold yourself in place.

one of his hands moved from your hip, slowly sliding up the rest of your body before he reached your neck, grabbing your chin and angling your head up towards the ceiling. “look at yourself, baby. how good you’re taking me,” he spoke gruffly, voice consumed by lust.

your fucked-our face was staring back at you, teary eyes and mouth hung open, soobin’s hand holding your chin and his hips pistoning up into yours. his eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pulled between his teeth as he watched the way you sucked him in. you couldn’t help the loud moan that left you at the lewd sight.

it was like a dam broke. all the moans and whimpers you had been holding in were slipping past your lips as the tears that had been welling up in your eyes spilled over. he angled his hips just right, thrusting up against your g-spot again as a loud cry left you. you didn’t even have to tell him at this point, he knew. he kept the angle, repeatedly hitting the same spot that made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

he chuckled quietly behind you, his voice strangled as he spoke, “you want hueningkai to know how good i’m fucking you?” you clenched tightly around him at his words, a whimper leaving your lips. you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke again, “you liked that, didn’t you? dirty girl.”

“yes, w-want everyone to know- need you,” you stammered out, your voice shaky and cut off with moans. you were nearing the edge for the fourth time that night, loud, unabashed moans leaving your lips as your hands pushed harder against his thighs, trying to ground yourself somehow.

you were so far gone at this point, only caring about the pleasure coursing through you. you felt like you were in a different dimension. you were so close to tipping over the edge, your cunt beginning to clench around soobin as you cried out.

“you close, baby?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. he doubled down on his efforts, thrusting into you faster, if that was even possible at this point.

“please- please.. need to cum, fuck, please, let me cum, soobin, please, want you to fill me up!” you pleaded, tears falling down your cheeks as your eyes clenched shut. you were so close to falling over the edge, the knot in your stomach tightening more and more, so close to snapping, so close to-

your vision went white, your mouth falling open as a cry left you as your cunt spasmed wildly around him. it was euphoric, your body twitching and spasming as he held you in place, beginning to chase his own high. you could do nothing besides take it, whimpers and cries leaving your lips as the pleasure morphed into pain.

“i’m almost there baby, fuck, just-“ he started, his thrusts sloppy and quick as he neared the edge, “i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck”

you watched his face with bleary eyes when he came, the reflection dark and hard to make out. his eyebrows were squinted closed and his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth hung open as he filled you up, pulling you down as hard as he could, hot white seed filing you to the brim and spilling out from being so stuffed.

his grip on you loosened, pulling you back against his chest. the position was uncomfortable, your legs and back bent at a weird angle, but you were too far gone to think about that right now. he smiled at your pliantness, adjusting your legs for you the best he could, pulling himself out of you slowly.

you whined at the sting, his hand stroking your arm as he whispered, “it’s okay, just relax, alright?” you nodded, soobin sliding himself out from underneath you so he was next to you, turning on his side and facing you.

“hey,” he mumbled with a smile, watching as you turned your head to meet his eyes with a shy smile.

“hi,” you giggled, your voice hoarse and sleepy.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he admitted quietly, biting his lip as he averted his vision.

your eyes widened slightly, turning your body fully to face him as you responded, “you have?”

“yeah,” he said, a small laugh leaving his lips as he looked back at you, “i’ve wanted you since we became friends. i just didn’t wanna make things awkward. but you would always give me these looks and i couldn’t tell if you liked me or not. tonight i just.. i couldn't help myself, i guess.”

your mouth fell open slightly, a smile forming on your lips as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, “i’ve always been yours, soobin.”

his eyes lit up, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached up to cup your jaw, pulling your lips back against his. this kiss was different from the others. it was sweet, full of emotion and untold feelings that had finally come to surface.

he pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against yours as he spoke, “let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” as you nodded along to his words, the rain pouring outside the window as the storm raged on, one thought circulated through your mind.

maybe thunder wasn’t so bad after all.

oh, and how you were going to explain this to hueningkai in the morning.

eeee i hope u like it!!

[kathaynesart]

And here we go. For the full experience I would recommend reading while listening to THIS SONG. It inspired a vast majority of the scene as well as the timing, though I fear you'd have to read pretty fast to get to the ending at the same time as the song ends, so uh... good luck! Trigger warnings below:

The Day the Sky Bled Red

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Whew. I'm so glad to finally be done with these big updates. After over a year I will finally be able to return to my smaller update format.

Some keen viewers might notice the reuse of certain shots from the series. There is very much intentional, though the reason for this will not be made clear until the ending of the arc.

As of the final shot we are FINALLY back to present-day in the Replica timeline (if it wasn't obvious). I'd drop in a timeline for reference but uh... I maxed out on the Tumblr images. Oh well. Hopefully the context clues were enough to help though!

I do want to take a moment to TED Talk about Raph's ninpo, if that's alright. Unlike his brothers, Raph didn't really spend much time trying to come up with unique ways of using his abilities. Why improve what already worked for him? However, I do think one interesting ability could have come naturally to him over time. I always found his way of mentally connecting with his brothers as "Mind Raph" to be a fascinating joke in the series. They way he could help and communicate with his brothers is something that was always really important to him and I see that ability bleeding into his ninpo. Because of this I feel that his Raph clones were always able to find and reach his brothers no matter the distance. His ability to interact with them at the same time was something he was still learning in the series, like when Mind Raph apologized to Leo for taking a moment too long to respond because he was busy helping someone else. Because of this I see his clones being able to react and communicate independently (kind of like Naruto clones), but are in constant connection to the original source, Raph himself. This made it really easy for Raph to relay information to the brothers, though it was seldom needed since Donnie's ninpo tech normally had that covered. On another note, I also wanted to make a point that whenever one of the brothers died in the bad future timeline, it was when they were separated from their brothers. I always liked in the movie how it wasn't until the brothers worked together that they were able to regain their abilities, confront the Krang, and even open portals to different dimensions. I wanted that lesson to resonate in Replica as well, even if subtly. Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

The rest of the arc will be a lot less action, but still plenty more emotions. I can't promise that we won't be doing more flashbacks in the future but nothing to the extent of the "Holiday Special." We got a story to get through after all!

Thank you so much everyone for your patience with me as I slowly inch my way through this big story. It means a lot to me! I promise the next update will not be so emotionally draining.

[reiderwriter]

I'm Your Fluffer!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader (best friends to lovers)

For @imagining-in-the-margins FWB Challenge!

Prompt: "I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." "Do you want the benefits?" "Yes- No... I'm your fluffer!" (Inspired by New Girl) (yes, I suggested this prompt, bo idc if that's cheating)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, choking, mentions of spanking, and butt worship, slight Dom Spencer, bratty reader, creampie. The classics, yk.

A/N: I'm back!!!! I took a break because I couldn't bring myself to even look at a word document for about a month, but there's nothing like a Pom challenge to get me writing again! I did have a lot planned for my 1 year anniversary, but because I was sick, and then busy, and then work got hectic, I had to put it off. I still am going to try to finish my kink bingo Carr, though, even though its a month late, but I had two fics left iirc, and I have both of them plotted, so I may as well! I will, however, be abandoning the final epilogue of I Can't Help Myself, because I wrote myself into a depressed corner with that one, and honestly, some people were getting very pushy about it, and it wasn't fun anymore. Anyway! This one was fun to write, so I'm going to stick to one shots for the foreseeable future, or incredibly limited series.

Masterlist

Spencer was your friend. A good friend. Your best friend, perhaps. A really good, very best friend.

Obviously, you were good friends because he always knew when you were feeling down. He bought you flowers regularly when he passed by flower shops. He came over to your place and helped you build every piece of flatpack furniture you had, which, as a single woman in your mid-twenties, was every piece of furniture that you owned.

You really looked forward to the movie nights the two of you had weekly. The popcorn, the blankets, the cuddling, his lips by your ear, in-time translating the foreign movies word for word as you watched it, the shivers down your spine as you pressed further into the heat of him.

Spencer was the best best friend you could ask for.

He was also the most frustrated.

“Kid, what are you doing this weekend? I'm thinking of hitting some clubs, you know, getting my groove on, maybe meeting A few ladies,” Morgan smirked, rubbing his hands together as he gently moved side to side, already dancing to himself as he anticipated his big weekend out. “You in, or are you in?”

“I can't. I promised Y/N I'd help her with some document digitalisation. We're going to order pizza and watch Star Trek while backing up her entire paper trail.”

The smile on Spencer's face was so stupid that Morgan had to stop himself from wiping it off of him immediately.

“Man, you are so down bad for that girl,” he mused, shaking his head.

“What? Down bad?”

“You like her. It's okay to admit it.”

“We're friends. I'm happy being friends,” Spencer said, picking up his bag and walking to the elevator desperate to escape a repeat of a conversation he'd already had three times that week.

“You know everyone thinks you're dating.”

“Well aware. Despite the number of times we've both stated to the contrary, people don't seem to accept ‘we're just friends’ when they hear it.”

“That may be because you're doing things that just friends don't do.”

“Everything we do is totally platonic.”

“You buy her flowers-

“I buy my mother flowers,” Spencer said, turning on the man and raising his hands in exasperation.

“You know that's different. Do you buy Emily flowers?”

Silence.

“What about JJ?”

“I bought JJ flowers!” He grinned triumphantly until the other man spoke again.

“When she was in the hospital. Giving birth. Okay, what about the movie nights?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man walked on, pressing the bell for the elevator and allowing his friend to keep bothering him.

“Friends watch movies together, Morgan. We've watched movies together, are we dating?”

“One, you are not my type, pretty boy, and two, you didn't exactly have your dick pressed against my ass the entire time we watched a film now, did you?”

“Be q- be quiet. I don't have my dick against her ass ever.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, was it pressed against her stomach instead? I know she likes to lie on top of-”

“Derek!”

The elevator arrived, and the two quickly jumped in, to Spencer's relief.

“All I'm saying, kid, is-”

“Hold the elevator!” You shouted, running to it quickly with Penelope Garcia on your heels.

“Thanks, Spence!” You said, smiling at him as you entered the small space.

And continued your not too unsimilar conversation with Penelope.

“So, as I was saying Penelope,” you shot her a look that told her you were finished with the conversation. You were not dating Spencer Reid, and you were unlikely to in the future because of his total and complete lack of interest in you.

“You can set me up this weekend, right? It's been an age since I've been on a date, and I would really like to-” you glanced around the elevator and whispered the end of your sentence, suddenly mindful of your company. “You know.”

“If you're absolutely sure, I have a few men in mind that could throw you about, but-”

You squealed and squeezed the woman as the elevator landed on your floor and jumped out of the elevator quickly, cheeks burning.

“Thanks, Pen, you're the best!”

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer called out behind you, desperately holding the elevator open for a few more seconds.

“I thought we were doing your papers this weekend? Star trek, pizza, remember?”

You stared guiltily at the floor as you forced your voice to sound as casual as possible, not sure you could make any excuse that didn't sound pathetic.

“Oh, sorry, Spencer. I totally forgot. We can rain check, right? I… I really need this.”

Spencer was aware of what disappointment felt like, but it never hollowed out his chest like your lack of eye contact in that moment did.

“Yeah. Sure, of course. We can do that whenever.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Spencer. You're the best… friend.”

He smiled and let the door finally shut, aware of the two sets of eyes now watching him.

It took a surprisingly long time for the ‘I told you so’ to come, but come it did, as if Morgan were unable to help himself.

“You're telling me that you're not into her at all?”

“I'm…not into her like that at all.”

“And you're fine with me setting her up on a date with a man that'll do somewhat empowering, somewhat disgusting things with her?” Penelope piled on.

“What? That's…that's not my business,” he ground out.

“No. Of course it’s not. Because you're not her boyfriend.”

“Exactly, I'm not her boyfriend-”

“You're her fluffer.”

With a pat on the shoulder, the elevator hit its last stop, and Morgan exited, leaving Spencer scrambling after him as Penelope waved the two of them off.

“What? No, what's a fluffer?”

Morgan chuckled and waved him off, walking to his car.

“Come on, what's a fluffer, and why am I hers?”

“You've seen porn before, right?” The older man asked, pausing as he opened his driver side door. “Actually don't answer that. The fluffer is the person who keeps the actors and actresses… ready between takes. Prepares them for the good stuff.”

With a bright flush across his cheeks, Spencer tried his best for an indignant look, landing somewhat closer to a petulant child.

“I am not her fluffer. We have never-”

“I know you've never. If you had, we wouldn't be standing here right now having this conversation. What I'm saying is you should.”

“We're friends!”

Climbing into the car and closing the door, Morgan dismissed the younger man quickly, but he wasn't finished.

Knocking on the door, Spencer waiting a beat, then two for it to open again.

“I'm not her fluffer.”

“You build her furniture and cuddle with her. You're doing everything a boyfriend would do, without any of the boyfriend rewards.”

“What rewards?” he gasped, exasperated.

A single look was all the reply he got before Morgan out his keys into the ignition and started driving.

Spencer never made the decision to turn up at your house later that night. He just found himself all of a sudden at your front door on a Friday night, pulling out the key from the plant pot by the front door and letting himself in. Unlocking his shoes, he called out through the apartment, letting you know he was there as he slipped into the house shoes you'd bought him after the first of many movie nights.

“Spencer? We cancelled earlier, remember?” you said emerging from your bedroom, fitted in the tightest dress he'd ever seen you in. He already had no answer for your question, but seeing you like that, getting ready, he had no answer to any question at all. If you'd have asked him his name, he wouldn't have known it.

Well, he would've, but only because you'd said it only three seconds ago and had reminded him that he was, in fact, standing in your apartment when he should've been literally anywhere else.

“Um. I'm…I'm just-” he scratched the back of his neck, waiting for something to come to him.

“Spencer, I'm leaving in like an hour, so there's no time to watch a movie, and I have to get ready, so-”

“I'm… I'm angry?”

You raised an eyebrow at his questioning tone, unsure where this conversation was going.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah..yes. I'm sure. I'm angry. We, we had plans, and you gave me like an hours notice and cancelled them to go do something stupid-”

“Spencer! I'm going on a date. That's not stupid.”

“It is when you have me!”

He half shouted, half murmured the words, as if he himself were unsure of how confident he was in making that statement.

“That came out wrong-”

“Yeah, I think it did.”

“What I mean is- I mean…Morgan said that-”

You crossed your arms and sat yourself on the arm of your sofa, looking forward at him and waiting for him to get through whatever this was. You hoped the entire time that he was saying what you'd wanted him to say for the last year and a half.

“Have you ever watched porn?”

Not what you were hoping for, but a start, at least.

“Spencer!”

“That came out wrong, I- don't throw the couch cushions at me. I have a point, I swear!”

You lowered your next projectile and gestured for him to go on, not fully relinquishing it just yet.

“I'm your fluffer! I get you…in the mood for dates, and- and- I do all the boyfriend stuff without any of the boyfriend benefits!”

He stood in front of you, red-faced, and you stared him down a second or two as you collected your thoughts.

“Do you…want the boyfriend benefits?”

“Yes! No, wait - wait a second. I- I- What are the boyfriend benefits exactly?”

You threw the pillow down and turned your back on him, not entirely sure what you were expecting from the most oblivious genius on the planet.

“Y/N, wait. Wait-”

With a hand wrapped around your wrist, Spencer spun you around, and, tripping over your feet, you landed hard on your sofa. Your fall should've been relatively pain-free, but for the 6-foot man that landed directly on top of you.

“Get up.”

“What are the boyfriend benefits?”

“You should know if you're saying you want them! Now, get up!”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Spencer!”

“Y/N!”

You groaned and writhed under him, but he just dropped his weight onto you, unmoving, hands pinning your wrists lazily, leg poking between your two, hips pinning yours.

It certainly wasn't the closest you'd ever been, but in those circumstances, during that conversation, you felt more flustered than you had before.

“What are the benefits.”

“You really want me to say? You're not afraid it's going to throw off our friendship, ruin whatever good thing we have going?”

“I think that if you go out tonight, and enjoy your date, and get a boyfriend, that he's going to feel weird about this good thing we have going and it's going to be over anyway. Tell me.”

You desperately searched for a way out of this situation, but a stronger part of you wanted to simply wrap your legs around him and let him take as much advantage as he could.

You settled for disturbing him.

“Fine. A boyfriend would be able to spank me.”

“Y/N, be serious.”

“I am. I like it. A boyfriend would pull my hair back and make me count as he hit my cute round ass until it turned all red, and I couldn't sit down comfortably anymore. A boyfriend would then kiss it better.”

You'd never spoken about sex with Spencer, and you hoped the vulgarity would force him back to his senses. Instead, he didn't stir, and you had no choice but to continue.

“Another boyfriend benefit would be choking me. I like that, too. Are your hands big enough to wrap around my throat, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly and do confidently, you weren't sure you actually heard it outlook until he spoke again.

“What other benefits, Y/N?”

“A… boyfriend would get to cum inside me,” you whispered, suddenly aware of hips rocking into yours slowly as his cock poked up, listening intently to the promises spilling from your lips that you likely should've regretted.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want the benefits.”

Your body was hot everywhere he touched you, but he didn't move, didn't follow through on anything just yet. But you were aware of his head moving closer and closer to yours and panicked.

“And what have you done? As my fluffer? To deserve those benefits?”

“What have I done?” He asked, pulling back an inch. Even as his chest rested, flush against yours, your breasts pushed up against him as his hands held yours over your head.

“I-I bought you flowers-”

“Emily buys me flowers, too. So does Penelope. Should I let them be my boyfriend?”

With your hands in use, you took advantage of his distraction and wrapped your legs up and around his waist, rolling your hips up into him.

“I suppose I do like flowers, though. What else?”

“I… We're always t-together?”

“We work together.”

Using the leverage of his weight against yours, you rolled up harder into his hips, grinding into him slowly as you watched his resolve melt away.

“The m-movie nights are-”

“The movie nights where you rut your cock into me while we watch a movie? Friends do that all the time. You're just translating the movie for me after all.”

“Y/N, please don't-”

“Don't say that? Okay. I'll just let someone else hump against my thighs to get off because you're too proud to admit you want to sink your dick into me and pound me?”

“Y/N-”

“Maybe that's why you don't have the boyfriend privileges, Spencer. Because I'm waiting for something, you're too much of a prude to try-”

His lips meet yours before you can finish the thought, and you're not sure whether it's a triumph or a defeat.

After precisely five seconds of his lips on yours, though, you no longer cared.

Releasing your hands gently, he lifted his hips an inch, distracting you enough to force his tongue into your mouth as his hand found its way between your legs.

“Did you really mean it?” He asked between kisses as you rake your hands through his hair, getting lost in him. “About the benefits?”

You allowed yourself to imagine it for a second, Spencer's hands on your throat. His hands on your ass. His mouth buried between your legs.

You moaned into his kiss, and he laughed - actually laughed - as he pulled away.

“Spencer!”

“No, no, please, don't let me keep you from your thoughts, I'll just be down here.”

His fingers reached your clit and he wasn't surprised to find you already wet, legs spread. Snaking another hand to your neck though, he wasn't exactly as opposed to the ideas you'd flung at him as he'd acted.

You gasped as his hand closed around your neck, the prettiest necklace you'd ever worn. You grabbed a hold of his hands as he pulled your underwear off, pushing them down your legs as he gently pushed your legs open wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

You curled up on yourself, craving your body to watch him devour your pussy as you tried your best to keep your breaths shallow, to keep breathing entirely as he squeezed your throat.

His tongue licked and flattened, his head bobbing up and down and then stilling as your hips began moving by themselves, letting you ride his face as you moaned and whined and desperately ran towards your climax.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulder, pressing down on his back to keep him in position, grabbing a handful of hair as you jerked against his face, fucking it as he looked up at you through hooded eyes, drinking down every drop of you.

His hold on your neck tightened, and you felt your body shudder as you squeaked out his name, not wanting this to end so soon, needing to feel more of this. He let you ride it out until you were whining in frustration again, hips twitching from the friction of his tongue against your cunt.

Then he pushed away.

He wasn't gone long, but you followed him up. You thought about pushing him down to the couch again, thought about sitting on his pretty boy face and doing it all over again. You thought of turning over and presenting your ass to him, letting him punish you like you'd promised. Your thoughts ceased as quickly as they came when he pulled his cock free of his pants, not even bothering to pull them off fully before pulling you into his lap, lining himself up, and pushing you down onto his hot, hard, lengthy cock.

You swear you would've screamed if his to guess hadn't already claimed your mouth. A good scream. A “holy shit holy shit holy shit” scream. Definitely a “I didn't know it was that big, and honestly I'm a little scared” scream. But overall, a “god that feels so good” scream.

From the lack of movement, you were sure that Spencer was giving you a moment to adjust to his intrusion, and you were thankful as you clung to his neck, hands balling in the material of his shirt on his back.

Although he was bigger than expected, he wasn't uncomfortably large, and you calmed quickly, giving him a quick nod as you buried yourself in his neck, hiding your face to stop yourself from drooling, mouth wide as he tipped you back against the couch pillows, lifting your legs slightly and slipping his hands underneath yous thighs, and began his steady pace of thrusts.

You were sure your world was imploding on itself, that all your senses had ceased except that of touch, and his touch was fire. But you heard the wet, slutty sounds of your pussy welcoming him, you smelt the sweat against his skin, and, opening your eyes, you saw the absolute pleasure blasted against his features as he groaned in your ear.

And before you could form another coherent thought, he'd claimed another boyfriend benefit, as, rocking his hips against yours, he slowed to a stutter as he emptied himself inside you.

“Spencer!!” you moaned, but he wasn't done, spitting on his fingers and finding your clit again as you squealed, twitching and turning and milling his cock with your movements as you found your second release.

You moaned his name again, though it sounded less like his name this time, and more like a definite noise complaint from your neighbours in the morning.

“Spencer?” you asked, still trying to regain your breath as he, once again, collapsed on top of you.

“Mhmm,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mess you'd made together drip out too, and resisting the urge to push right back into you and go again.

“Was that a friendly fuck, or a boyfriend fuck?”

His eyes snapped to yours again as you continued.

“I just want to give Penelope the correct reason for cancelling on her friend when I text her-”

“I came inside you.”

“So you did.”

“Y/N!”

“.... So that wasn't a fluffer thing, but a boyfriend thing, got i-”

With a kiss, he shut you up again, and you realized quickly that you probably wouldn't have the time to send that text anyway.

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. dirty talk, sexual themes, aftercare, shy!reader, soft!rafe.

heavy pants filled the air of rafe cameron's bedroom. the breaths bounced from wall to wall as he laid his back against the mattress, chest slightly heaving.

his eyes were busy, darting across each of your features and trying to gauge any emotion.

"c'mere, baby." you felt his hand grab at your upper arm, his own large bicep curling around you, holding you close so you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off of your own.

you were trying to regain your breath, softly breathing through parted lips as your head laid against the boy's chest, legs already beginning to dangle between his own.

it was hard to ignore the sudden heat to your face, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

you'd had sex with rafe quite often and you didn't think he was keen on slowing down anytime soon. though neither were you. however, it was only in your shy nature to feel suddenly flushed against him.

he felt you nuzzle against him. it was almost as if you were trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

his words plagued your memory.

"that feel good, sweetheart, huh?" "fuck, baby, your pussy's so fuckin' warm." "there you go, good girl." "love bein' fucked by this dick, i'nt that right, angel?" "like bein' my good girl, huh? all mine, that's it, baby.".

rafe's lips often spilled words that were awfully crude when he fucked you.

"y'okay, sweetheart?" he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. rafe was typically soft after moments like these, especially like tonight, when he knew he pushed you a little further than normal. "you're quiet. not upset, yeah?"

once again, he felt you nod.

he gently moved you, nudging your face with his nose. "gonna answer me, princess?" you sort of blinked at him. "with words."

he felt you squirm against him. "'m okay." you muttered, though your voice was so quiet it hardly reached his ears. while the tips of your own were turning red.

the stare he was using seemed a little dangerous. "yeah?"

a hum was on the tip of your tongue but it was awfully hard to concentrate when he was looking at you like that. his head slightly tilted, eyes piercing into your own, pretty lips bent into a slight smirk. all you could think about were the filthy things he was whispering in your ears not five minutes ago.

shrinking in on yourself, you had to shy away from him.

finally, he got it.

his lips quirked up into a smirk. "getting shy on me now, huh?" rafe liked to tease. "all shy like you weren't jus' gushin' around my dick, baby?"

"rafe!" you shot your hands up to cover your bashful face with a blush spread across it.

"what?" a half laugh fell from his lips, hands pulling your own from your face so he could look at you. "you liked me talking earlier." you uttered something, rafe didn't hear it. "speak up, angel." nudging your face with his nose for the second time. something about the act seemed soft, gentle.

once again, you squirmed. "'said stop bein' mean."

his brows raised. "how am i being mean, sweetheart?" a laugh on the edge of his tongue but he held it back, not wanting to make you feel more embarrassed than you already did.

"'cause." your fingers were absentmindedly trailing up his arm, eyes too focused on trying to escape having to look at his face. god, you couldn't look at his face.

while rafe was merely staring at yours. "you're cute." the grin sitting on his lips and the cocked brow was enough for you to hide your face in his chest. he heard you mumble something about him having to be quiet. "'m serious, baby." he pulled your face up with his fingers hooked around your chin. "my shy girl, 's so cute."

the way he spoke to you had your head feeling sort of blurry, a floaty feeling that you couldn't quite understand.

"head feelin' fuzzy, princess?" you nodded at his words, confused on how he always knew what was going on inside your head. it seemed he knew better than you did sometimes. "'s okay, pretty girl, c'mere."

for the second time that night, he pulled you in closer, this time you were practically on top of him, bodies wrapping together like gloves. as rafe said, you "fit so perfectly, like 't was made for it."

"that's right, princess, 'm gonna take care of you." with a kiss to the crown of your head which he watched you hide instantly. "gonna take care of my shy girl, yeah?"

all that you could muster was a nod.

[shujichii]

it was exactly 1:03 am when your careful movements had screeched to an abrupt halt, and you swear your heart nearly lurched out of the confines of your chest as a large shadow loomed over you.

you instantly whipped around, mouth stuffed with food, slightly backing up against the refrigerator and glancing up at the man you call your husband— who was solely responsible for the jumpscare.

for a moment, you just stared at him with wide eyes, and he simply stared back. no words exchanged, the peaceful silence of the night replaced by the thumping of your own heartbeat being the only sound. you hastily swallow your food before finally parting your lips at last.

"you scared me!" you whisper-shouted, your hand flying up to press against your chest where your heart was still racing erratically.

finally, his expression shifted— his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile; lightly ruffling the back of his hair as he took a small step back.

".. sorry, i didn't mean to scare you."

his voice was thick with sleep, a touch deeper than usual.

your expression softened, the fright from earlier easing up as you gently closed the refrigerator behind you, now the only illumination in the kitchen being the soft golden hued dim light.

"it's fine," you chuckle softly. "my bad, did i wake you up when i got up?"

you did, yes. was that a bad thing? hardly. your husband was just simply too used to having you in his arms as you both slept, safe and sound within his snug and comforting embrace. he always seemed to stir awake whenever he felt you moving away from his arms, just as he did earlier.

he assumed that maybe you had some business to finish in the bathroom, or that you had simply gotten up to fetch yourself a cool glass of water. so when 10 minutes passed with no sign of you coming back to bed, naturally, he was starting to feel the worry creep in. he was a man on a mission to find his wife and bring her back right where she belongs— in his arms, of course.

and now, here he was.

"it's not a big deal," he shook his head. "were you hungry?"

"uhh.."

"want me to make you something?"

"no, no! it's okay, i just woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall asleep for some reason." you finally said, although warmth bloomed in your chest at the way your husband was willing to cook for you in the dead of the night just because his beloved wife had a small craving.

he nodded his head in understanding, the remnants of sleep in his eyes slowly beginning to fade away. you moved away from the refrigerator to walk towards the counter, bringing a glass forward. just before you could reach for the jug, you stilled.

in 2 strides, he had closed the distance. he was standing right behind you now, his broader frame hovering over you— the solidness of his chest almost pressing against your back, as he, too, reached for his glass, while his other hand absentmindedly came up to rest on your waist. your heart skipped a beat at the sudden proximity.

... not that you were complaining.

before you knew it, he was already bringing the glass to his lips. your gaze darted down at your own glass which he had also filled while he was at it.

"well, someone's quiet."

now you were pretty sure he was doing this on purpose now. his hand? still on your waist, his thumb drawing small, featherlight circles over your skin. and the man himself? still standing right behind you, the warmth of his body intertwining with yours.

you could very clearly hear the smirk in his voice.

you huffed, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed up as you gulped down your water.

"you're being awfully flirty for someone who just got up from bed," you shot, finally turning around to face him. and the moment you did? his face was close. too close.

"what, i can't flirt with my own wife whenever i please now?" he raised an eyebrow, leaning down just slightly— his nose lightly brushing against yours in a ticklish, teasing gesture.

you rolled your eyes in response, yet you couldn't help the smile spreading across your lips. you merely hummed, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, tugging him down towards you just slightly, and he leaned down instinctively. you placed a soft, fleeting peck on his lips, watching the way his playful expression softened. both of his arms had already found their way towards your waist, gentle and steady.

"give me another kiss, pretty. preferably one that lasts longer."

you giggled, slightly shaking your head. greedy. you reached up again, your lips claiming his in a sweet kiss, slow and unhurried. and he returned the kiss in no less than a second, each movement of his lips against yours speaking like a soft confession of his unwavering love and devotion for you. he pulled you closer towards him, his hold on you tightening— but not uncomfortably. you instantly melted into him, nails gently grazing his scalp.

his lips tilted into the faintest smile in-between the kiss.

you immediately felt it, and smiled too.

that, in turn, made him smile a tad bit wider.

after a moment, you pulled away, lips slightly parted. a soft yet undeniably lovesick smile was present on both of your faces, and the way you two gazed into each other's eyes said more than what words could at that moment.

wordlessly, he began gently swaying with you still between his arms, guiding you into a slow dance. a surprised laugh left your lips, and to him, that itself was the melody for the impromptu dance— your steady breaths mingling with his, shared laughter, stolen kisses and hushed confessions.

perhaps getting caught in the kitchen past midnight wasn't so bad after all.

♡ gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori yuji, okkotsu yuta (jjk), zayne, sylus, caleb (lads), kurosaki ichigo, ishida uryuu, hisagi shuhei (bleach), mammon, satan, solomon, diavolo, simeon (obm), uzui tengen, rengoku kyojuro, tomioka giyuu, kamado tanjiro (kny), eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirschtein, reiner braun (aot), anyone else you'd like. (honourable mentions; sung jinwoo and wriothesley because they're fine.)

[edward-munson]

never have i ever

Summary: You're playing the game "Never have I ever" at Dustin's birthday party and it surprises you when Eddie reveals a secret of his personal life.

Warning: 18+ MDNI, masturbation, oral (m receiving)

Word count: 3.1k

You're only at this party because it's Dusin Henderson's 18th birthday. He thinks he's old enough to drink, so he makes sure all of his friends are drinking too. Except, he's only adept at drinking beer. Not like you, though. You like anything strong. You can drink beer, cocktails, tequila, anything alcoholic.

As you sip on your piña colada, one made especially by Jonathan, you watch as the younger boys play D&D at the bar. On the other side of the table, Eddie is smoking weed with his friends as they watch their friends playing. You try not to be obvious with your glances that are being directed at the metalhead, but you might be failing doing so because of the drinks you had.

Steve is trying to get your attention as he talks about his date, and Robin can't seem to listen to him because she's too busy checking Vickie out. They've been going on dates, but she's too invested and doesn't hide it. He's babbling and rambling, not hiding his excitement, and you feel bad you're not exactly listening to him.

The Hideout was rented just for Dustin's birthday, so you're allowed to listen to whatever you guys felt like. You and your friends are old enough to drink, and you're all taking care of the younger group in front of you. Will doesn't drink and Eleven isn't fond of it. Max is the one along with Mike who likes to try on cocktails and Jonathan makes sure he adds enough ounces of alcohol.

"Okay, you know what? If they're going to play a boring game, let's just play our own game!" Robin says as soon as Steve shuts his mouth

You both ask her what game it is and she seems excited about it. "Never have I ever"

Steve rolls his eyes and mumbles something and you just snort.

It's not like it's a forbidden game, but it sure can be fun.

She gathers every adult, including Eddie, who clearly couldn't be bothered by the idea. His friends decided to stay and watch the youngsters playing. As you all sit around a bigger table, Robin and Nancy spread shot glasses to each one of you, placing a good amount of tequila on each glass.

You don't protest, you like the idea of playing something like that. And it's funny how some of them, like Eddie and Steve, look like they're afraid of doing it.

You nudge the curly haired man beside you and whisper "You seem pretty worried"

He nudges you back and mocks you, shaking his head softly "Nah, just not the biggest fan of these games"

"Okay! Listen. I'll start and the round goes on to the right. Don't bullshit us and don't be soft" Robin shouts from the other side of the table, preparing herself before starting it.

They're all telling off things based on their own experiences, until Argyle decides to be the greatest menace ever. He started saying specific stuff that weren't related to him, rather to find out if people have ever done anything. The tequila shots were smaller so you all wouldn't die from alcohol poisoning.

You started to feel giddy, your cheeks were burning red and every time Eddie would bump his arm against yours, you would feel squirmy in your seat.

"Never have I ever been given a blowjob" Jonathan said and the guys took their shots. Argyle wouldn't stop laughing at this point, but mostly because he was drunk and high on weed.

It took a few seconds for you all to notice the fact that Eddie didn't take his shot and all eyes were pointed at him. He was leaning against his chair with a bandana over his head, so he wouldn't feel hot from drinking. His t-shirt was wet from the drink he missed and spilled over it. From your point of view, he looked hot as fuck.

"What? Yeah, I've never been sucked before and I'm not ashamed. I've barely hooked up with girls before" He seemed unbothered from saying the truth and it took them by surprise.

At least Steve and Jonathan were. Argyle, not so much. They've been friends for a while and they've shared experiences before. Meaning they didn't have many, but the fact no one ever wanted to give Eddie a blowjob seemed kinda off to you somehow.

"Huh, it's their loss" You murmured but loud enough for him to hear you

"What's that?" He rested his elbow over the table and leaned his head against his hand, having your full attention.

Eddie was holding a smug on his face and his lips were curved upwards. He pretended he didn't listen to you, but he knows what he heard.

"Uh– I mean" You blew through your closed mouth, trying to disguise your temptation of complimenting him. "Ah, they're all just stupid for not doing that"

"Really?" He pushes, biting his inner lower lip as he still muses towards you.

As you cross your arms in front of you, Eddie laughs at the way you react to his teasing and sits back straight on his chair. The game doesn't take too long to end, especially when Nancy says she's feeling kind of sick, and Vickie is about to throw up on the table.

You all scatter around, getting up and collecting the shot glasses. You don't feel sick, but you sure feel funny and like you're about to float from the amount of tequila you just had.

As soon as you turn on your heels to go back to the table, Eddie is standing there in front of you, holding a bottle of water. He's still wearing the bandana and it makes him look gorgeous from how the lights are hitting him. Without his bangs, you can see him more clearly. How his eyes are blown from the weed he smoked, the way his eyebrows are perfectly shaped, just like the shape of his plump lips.

You don't think he wouldn't notice, but he tilted his head to the side and gave you a sided smile. The kind of smile you give someone when you're about to mess with them, when you want to taunt them.

"Why are you looking at me that way, sunshine? Something wrong with my face?"

He follows you as you start to walk towards the table and you shake your head, hiding your thoughts as you drink your water. Eddie doesn't even let you sit without pulling a chair for you. He sits next to you, facing you. He crosses his arms and slumps back.

When he does that, your eyes literally drop a few inches to watch how he just sits there with his legs spread open, almost an invitation to what you've been thinking about.

You almost choke on the water from drinking it too fast. He takes the bottle off your hand and closes it, keeping his previous demeanor.

"Okay, now you're just acting weird. What the hell happened?" He sounds a little concerned, but the fact he's sitting like that in front of you doesn't help it.

You shrug, taking a deep breath. You cross your legs and lick your lips playfully before opening your mouth to speak. This small action sends a shock wave through his own body but it lasts a fraction of time.

You pull your chair closer to his, your legs standing in the middle of his. Eddie shifts his eyes to your legs and the way you are looking at him.

"You wouldn't wanna know what it's like to get a blowjob, Eddie?" You try not to sound like you're enticing him, or even provoking him. But the context says otherwise.

He laughs nervously, diverting his eyes from you. He looks at the ceiling and sighs. You see him taking a deep breath, looking back at you.

"What is this conversation about, really? None of the girls I've gone out with would wanna suck a freak off. They just wanted to hook up because I'm sort of famous in town. And I've had sex like two times. So really, don't bother with the subject"

He played defensive, like he was offended. You didn't intend to sound as if you're joking and making fun of him for not having much sex.

"No– Eddie, I'm not trying to make fun of you. You're such a grumpy little man! Come here" You quickly get up and pull him by his hand, following to the back of the bar.

You knew the whole place. You've been at the bar a hundred times and he talked about the back of the bar where he and his band use as backstage. They had set up a few furniture including one couch.

One you pushed him to after you closed the door and locked it. He looked at you terrified but amused at the same time, because he had no idea what was happening.

You sat beside him, resting your arm on the back of the couch. His brows were furrowed and when you noticed how pretty his lips were you couldn't hold it back.

"We're friends, right? You trust me?" You ask, your voice a little shy and your tone a little lower.

He nodded and tilted his head, again. "Yeah, sunshine. If we weren't, you know I wouldn't let you fucking kidnap me and bring me here" He jokes.

It's the way he calls you sunshine. The way he looks tenderly at his friends and how he treats everyone. It's so fucking cute. It's not even the alcohol talking and you know that.

You also know sometimes he throws glances at you, but you know he wouldn't do shit about that. He's too afraid of committing, too afraid of being heartbroken. He just doesn't know what he's actually missing.

And then you laugh like you're embarrassed, your head is hanging low because you can't seem to face him right now. But he pinches your chin carefully, looking right at you. His fingertips aren't that soft and you know it's from playing guitar. They also smell like smoke.

"What is it?" He asks again, pleading chocolate brown eyes staring into your soul. You look back at him and move your face until you're just a few inches away from him. "Oh?"

At first, he seems confused and kind of lost. But it's only a matter of seconds until he's the one taking you in and kissing you softly. He tastes like tequila and cherry from the gum he was chewing. It's intoxicating, it's a mix of feelings for you. He's still holding your chin. He uses the other one as leverage and holds your neck. You're anxious to taste him, literally.

The euphoria hits you like a train wreck when he lets you pull his hair a bit. He tries not to gasp from the touch, and he instinctively bites a small bit of your lower lip. It sends you to a frenzy and your other hand flies up to his crotch. Obviously, he's hard. Not just from the touch, but from the kiss. From how you hold his hair.

Eddie never had a girl hold his hair like that, he barely had a girl that interested in him. And he likes the feeling of being desired, it's different. And knowing you, he feels like he can trust you.

So he lets you touch him. Both your mouths never leave, only adding more fuel to his fire. You notice his behavior and try to unzip his jeans without being concerned about breaking the kiss.

He helps you out lifting his hips so you can get rid of it, trying to focus on kissing him and touching him. You love the feeling of having someone this horny for you. You feel his hardness grow through the fabric and you can feel the dampness already.

"You're so hard for me, Eds" You whisper hovering your lips over Eddie's and he grunts in response.

Your little evil laugh makes him more turned on for you, and his first instinct is to pull your hair, but not with force. He pulls you back a little, enough for him to have a look at you, the way you stare back at him with lust in your eyes.

"You're so gorgeous" He mumbles, his eyes sparkly. When you grip his hard cock tight, he hisses at the touch and closes his eyes forcefully.

He's still holding your hair and when you do that again, he grips it tighter. He's playing your game. Only he's the one getting something out of it. At least today.

You hold his underwear and pull it down, watching as his dick springs free from the fabric. Red tip, already leaking and begging for more of your attention. Eddie doesn't let go of you, only enough for you to start sliding down the couch, kneeling in front of him. You look at him before looking at his cock, it's trimmed and it looks gorgeous. It's already begging for your attention.

The alcohol in your system seems to evaporate immediately. Eddie glances down at you with concerned eyes, like he's afraid you won't do it. But you glance up and nod, reassuring him you will do it, smiling just before you start giving him the pleasure he deserves.

You lick a stripe through his shaft, tasting him for the first time. He didn't know the feeling until then, and it made him pulse like he never did before. One hand holding your hair back and the other one gripping tightly on the edge of the couch.

Your tongue savors his precum until you reach the tip and give it a small kiss. You look at him again, he's trying to hold back his whimpers. You know it's hard for him to handle the touch as it is his first time. Usually something this provocative causes a man to last only a few minutes.

But you take your time, taking his cock inside your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat. It's not your first time, so you don't gag anymore.

You bob your head up and down a few times, sucking him and the liquid coming off of him. You use one hand to grip his balls, and the other one you leave resting over his stomach. He seems to love it.

He watches you carefully, he looks at how your tongue roams up and down his length, reaching the tip again, swallowing thickly. You feel it pulsing every now and then, precum spreading all over it until you suck it in again.

"Jesus fuck" Eddie moans. He lets out a loud, unsteady breath. His hand is gripping your hair carefully and if you didn't know any better, he's just being gentle when you know he would pull it harder. He was almost melting from the feeling of your mouth. 

You take him back and forth, rolling your tongue around it. You lick his cock down and reach his balls, sucking it until your mouth is full and he struggles to keep his eyes open because he wants to watch it all.

You hold his shaft with your delicate hand and pump him, your mouth helping out with the job. You sank back down lower, taking every inch of him, looking up at him. Your lips slid perfectly around his skin and it made him even harder. He starts to buckle his hip when he glances at you, seeing lust in your eyes again.

Your eyes are blown from pleasure and Eddie wonders if you’re feeling the heat between your legs as well. He wants to know if your pussy is wet from doing all this with him and he can’t help but thrust against your mouth. He starts slowly, until you’re feeling comfortable having his entire length in the back of your throat. 

Eddie watches when you let him fuck your mouth mercilessly, feeling his tip hitting your throat. He can't hold back his grunts, letting his head fall back to the couch. His eyes are now closed and he's in a bliss of pleasure.

The quiet room is filled with the sound of his cock in your mouth, Eddie moaning huskily and you whimpering from your own pleasure. No one cares you're both there, no one even knows you're there. He holds your head and hits his length in a perfect spot that makes him shiver.

He stops his thrusts because he wants you to finish for him. You grip the base of his cock and grip it tightly, letting the blood rush to the tip, and you suck him hard. You hollow your cheeks and suck him hard enough for him to feel lightheaded.

“Godfuckingdamn” Eddie pleads.

It's how it makes his heartbeat fasten quickly and his cock is almost exploding from the pleasure. You know he's going to cum because his legs start to falter and shake. His hand is gripping your hair tighter than before and he's buckling his hips upwards.

It comes with the loudest grunt he lets out. He fills in your mouth and the warm liquid washes over your throat as you swallow all of it. His dick pulses incessantly and you don't let go of him for a second.

Eddie feels kind of drained, but in a very good way. He's still on a high, but he feels relieved. His entire body is shaking, his legs are weak and his hands fall on top of the couch. You take the last bit of his cum and let go of him.

You think it's cute to see his cheeks flushed, painted in red. He's breathing heavily and you can't quite describe how hot he looks right now. His dick is still a little hardened but less than before. You get yourself up and help him get his pants done and sit back on the couch.

Eddie looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's seen. And it's not just because of what happened. He likes the thought of kissing you, of having you blowing him. He kissed you without any hesitation, tasting a bit of himself in your mouth.

"That was mind-blowing" He heaves, resting his forehead against yours and you laugh softly.

"You wanna go back to the party?" You ask, getting up from the couch, ready to open the door. But he pulls you back and holds your hand.

He shakes his head, showing off a little bit of shyness in his features. "I wanna take you home and kindly fuck you"

It makes you laugh at how much he can still manage to be such a gentleman when saying something dirty. But you agree to that and you both leave, driving to his apartment.

[jjscrybaby]

prompt: ‘someone tying up your seatbelt for you’ from @scealaiscoite

rafe cameron x fem!reader | fluff | (bsf!rafe, bsf!reader, drinking, both of them are complete simps, kelce & top.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One foot in front of the other. You looked down at your kitten heels, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get from the kitchen to the backyard. You hadn’t seen any of your friends for at least an hour, too busy getting yourself too drunk to even remember they existed.

That’s probably why you squealed in excitement as Kelce began to walk towards the back door just as you were walking out. “Kelce!” You beamed, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Hey— Jesus, you smell like a brewery,” he joked, arm wrapping around your shoulders. “C’mon, we’ve been lookin’ all over for you.”

Your friend led you to the seating area in the garden, a variety of Kook’s sat around smoking cigarettes but your eyes were only focused on one. The moment Rafe saw you under Kelce’s arm you swore you could see the sigh of relief, he stood up and rushed over to the pair of you.

“Where the fuck you been?” He exclaimed, taking your stumbling-self from Kelce’s arm to wrap his around your waist. Your head rested against his shoulder, a hazy giggle leaving your lips.

“Partying,” you murmured, looking up at him with a lovesick smile.

“Jesus,” Kelce muttered, face scrunching up in disgust. He’d be sure to tell Topper about his little moment; he’s hellbent on winning the bet that you’ll be the first to admit your feelings for Rafe.

“Get her some water,” Rafe demanded, barely looking at the other boy as he spun on his heel and pulled you along with him back to the seats.

There was only space for one, but you were too drunk to even think it was odd for him to pull you into his lap. There was a fireplace in the middle, warming you up. Your arm wrapped around his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair as you tried to pay attention to the conversation Topper and Rafe were having.

“Here you go, madam,” Kelce snorted, handing over a red-solo cup filled to the brim with tap water. You accepted it happily, guzzling it down as the dehydration hit you.

“Alright— you’re gettin’ it all over me,” Rafe complained, holding the bottom of the cup to stop you from spilling anymore.

“I’m thirsty,” you argued, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Not surprised. How many of them cocktails you had tonight, huh?” He teased, taking the cup from your hold to put on the stone floor.

“So many,” you giggled, laying your head back on his shoulder.

“Mhm,” he hummed, rubbing your back gently before turning back to Topper, who had a similar expression on his face to Kelce; disgust.

There are certain rules to being best friends with three boys, and one of them should be not falling in love with any of them. You couldn’t help yourself, not with the way Rafe took care of you, or the way he looked at you, not to mention how handsome he really is.

You stared at the side of his face, memorising every detail to his pretty face. He noticed, but he knew if he brought it up to tease you you’d probably burst into tears. So, he minded his own business and let you have your fun of running your finger over his jawline.

Only another half an hour went by before Rafe was patting your thigh. “Ready to go, babe?”

“No,” you whined, shaking your head. “I don’t want to go yet. Only been here, like, ten minutes!”

“That’s just not true,” Topper muttered. Rafe shot him a glare, waving him off to silently tell him to go round up Kelce.

Rafe turned back to your pouting-self, an amused huff leaving his mouth. He prodded at your pouty lip. “Non of that. This shit’s borin’, you can’t really be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” you replied, glaring at him; in his eyes you looked like an angry puppy.

“Well… would you rather stay here, or come back to Tannyhill and order a pizza?” He asked, tilting his head at you. You were tripping over yourself to get off his lap within seconds. “‘Atta girl.”

Your arm was linked through his as the two of you walked through the house, you saying goodbye to everyone and Rafe huffing and puffing from next to you. It took ten minutes to even get out of the house, by the time you did he was sighing in utter relief.

“The fuck took so long?” Kelce complained, him and Topper leaning against the side of Rafe’s truck.

“She wanted to say goodbye to everyone, and then to all the animals,” Rafe grumbled.

“There weren’t any animals,” Topper replied, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“There was a gold fish.”

As Rafe unlocked the truck, Kelce and Topper got in the back; they already knew that the passenger seat was reserved for you. Rafe opened the door and helped you sit down, watching for a moment as you just stared up at him.

“Seatbelt,” he stated, waiting to see you put it on.

You reached for it, but your fingers were numb and you could barely drag it over yourself. You tried again, this time letting out a whine of irritation that it wasn’t going where you wanted.

“You’re a mess,” Rafe muttered, but the lazy smile on his face told you that he didn’t mean it. He grabbed the seatbelt and reached over you, clicking it into place. “There we go.”

“Thanks, Rafey,” you grinned, he smiled back, kissing your forehead before closing the door.

“God,” Kelce groaned. “I’m sick of the pining. We need to find new friends.”

“Agreed,” Topper muttered as Rafe got in the truck.

“Agreed on what?” He asked, looking back at them.

“That you can just drop us back home. We won’t interrupt your date night,” Kelce responded, a smirk on his lips.

He expected instant carnage, every time him or Topper made a ‘joke’ that they didn’t want to be around the two of you because they were third wheeling you’d throw a fit. It was mainly from the embarrassment that they were right and exposing you in front of Rafe. However, this time there was no response from you.

“That’s probably for the best,” Rafe shrugged, starting up the engine as he pulled his own seatbelt on.

“Damn it,” Kelce sighed. There was a chance he wasn’t going to win this bet; because Topper was certain it would be Rafe that would reveal his feelings first.

With you sat in his passenger seat, looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, there’s a chance he was right. Rafe’s a sucker for you, and there’s nothing he likes more than when you look at him like that.

[gumii-bearr]

❝ too late for sorry ❞

summary: suguru wants to try something a little different.

featuring... suguru geto

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, mentions of alcohol (everyone involved is sober), face-sitting, blowjob, handjob, cunnilingus, edging, deepthroating??, 69ing, cum eating, tattooed!geto, pierced!geto, bruising??, slightly mean!geto, overstimulation, fingering, creampie, belly bulge, cockwarming, unprotected sex (DONT DO IT!!!), face-fucking, size kink, reader wearing thigh highs, spanking, possessive!geto, naughty!reader, cervix kissing, dick piercings, i fucking hope that's it.

author's note: i need to be put in horny jail.

"Sugu... this is so embarrassing..."

Suguru grins against the skin of your thigh, too busy peppering wet kisses to the backs of your reddened thighs and your pretty plush ass to give a fuck if you're embarrassed.

It was your own damn fault for wearing that impossibly tiny mini skirt and thigh-highs out tonight. You were hanging out with your boyfriend and his friends, spending the night at a bar playing pool and drinking.

And every time you would bend over to line up your shot in pool, the whole damn bar could see where your soft thighs met your ass and if anyone knew you better, they'd know you weren't wearing any panties.

Gojo was being a dick, sticking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he took a pervy look at your cute little ass as you jumped around with Shoko, excited about pocketing a ball.

Geto's jaw was clenched, eyes dark and narrowed as he watched you lean against the bar, ordering another drink for you and Shoko and blissfully unaware of the fact that every man with a pulse and a brain was checking you out.

He was quiet for the rest of the night, insisting you put on his baggy leather jacket (that completely covered your ass all the way to your mid-thigh), and keeping an arm around your shoulder the whole night.

He wouldn't tell you what was bothering him, keeping his jaw tight with tension and frustration, keeping a protective arm around your waist or over your shoulder, not even offering you the reassurance of looking you in the eye.

You were in trouble.

You knew you were from the moment he handed you his jacket and told you to put it on. Not asked you; told you.

Which led you to a silent ride home, a possessive tattooed hand clutching your thigh as you drove home in silence other than the quiet hum of whatever was on the radio.

Geto didn't wait for you when you got home.

He pushed the front door open, kicked his shoes off and strolled upstairs, leaving you to bend down to unclasp the strap around your ankle, pull off your heels and bite at your lip anxiously.

You slowly padded upstairs, hands clutching Suguru's jacket nervously.

You pushed open your bedroom door. Geto was sitting on the edge of the bed, thighs spread slightly as obviously waiting for you to summon the courage to face whatever he had in store for you.

"C'mere," he patted his thigh and you gulped down the lump in your throat, closing the bedroom door behind you.

You kept your head down as you padded over to your boyfriend, his gaze completely blank as you perched your little ass on his strong thigh. He rested a hand over your thighs, the other holding at your hip.

You attempted to suck up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Suguru chuckled softly, "tryna suck up to me, princess?"

"No," you lie, averting your gaze and feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"You know why I'm mad?" Suguru asks, raising a curious brow.

"No," you say again, this time the truth.

"Think about it, pretty."

You genuinely do, your brows furrowed in thought as you chew the inside of your cheek. Suguru's fingers draw little circles on the exposed skin of your thigh above your cute thigh-high socks and below the hem of your skirt.

"Did I drink too much?" You ask curiously.

"No," he tilts his head slightly, "keep thinking."

You pout, "I don't know, Sugu."

"Maybe I have to help you a little, hm?"

You nod quickly, eyes big and doe-like as you stare at him.

So cute, so naive.

Suguru gets you to stand up, turning you around as you stand between his legs before patting his thigh again. You give him a confused look and he chuckles lowly, "bend over, baby."

You make a little noise of protest, knowing what he's going to do. He doesn't offer you any sympathy and you do as you're told, leaning over his thighs and propping your ass up.

Suguru flips your skirt over your hips without a word, rubbing the back of your thigh with his large tattooed hand, his cold rings against your hot skin sending a shiver up your spine.

He wordlessly traces the tip of his finger around your exposed pussy lips and it finally dawns on you.

"Ringing any bells, princess?"

"M'sorry–!"

"Too late for sorry, pretty."

Suguru lands a hard smack! to your ass and you whimper, feeling your cunt pulse at the stinging pain. Another hard smack! and he soothes it by rubbing the reddened skin.

Sometimes Suguru doesn't know his own strength and judging by the angry welt already forming on your ass, you don't either.

But holy fuck, you love it.

You whine as Suguru lands another smack to your pretty ass, completely silent as he watches you struggle and wiggle away from his mean punishment of your poor ass.

But he knows you like it.

He can tell from the way your pussy glistens, slick slipping from your needy little hole. Suguru pressed the tip of his finger against your slit, rubbing your clit slightly.

You moan pathetically at the simple touch, thighs pressing and rubbing together as Suguru rubs tight circles on your little clit. You pant at the feeling, pushing your ass back onto his hand.

"What do you say?"

"M'sorry, Sugu– Please, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again!" you whine out, panting slightly as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, mascara staining your under-eyes.

"Oh, you won't, huh?" He questions, rubbing his hand over your red-raw skin.

You shake your head, "mm-mm, I promise."

Suguru chuckles softly before pulling his fingers away from your cunt, earning a whine from your pretty lips. He forces you to stand between his legs, your thighs shaking and ass sore.

"Gonna do as you're told?"

"Mhm," you nod quickly.

Suguru slowly peels his jacket from your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the ground. His hands pull your top over your head, your arms flying up instinctually. He forces your skirt down your legs and over your ass, watching as you hiss and whine slightly at the tenderness.

"You're gonna sit on my face, baby," Suguru says after a beat.

Your eyes widen, "no, Sugu– it's so embarrassing."

"You're gonna do as you're told, hm?" He raises a brow and you whine, pressing your face against his broad shoulder. "Come on, baby. S'gonna feel good."

You pause for a moment before nodding, a pout pulling at your bottom lip. Suguru smirks devilishly, large hands on your hips to pull you close.

He plants a gentle kiss to your lips and you instantly melt into his touch. Suguru knows exactly what to do to get you to behave for him.

Suguru manhandles you onto the bed, peeling his shirt over his head and tugging your smaller frame onto him, forcing you to straddle his chest, your hands planted on the bed beside his thighs.

"Sugu... this is so embarrassing..."

Suguru kisses your reddened thighs, his spit shining against your skin in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Your forehead falls against his rock-hard abs when he presses a wet kiss to your glistening pussy, immediately tasting your sweet arousal.

You whine at the feeling, hands curling into the sheets as Suguru licks at your clit, his arms curling under your thighs and thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart.

"There she is," Suguru groans, voice low as he flicks his tongue over your clit before dragging his tongue up your slit to dip into your awaiting hole.

"Sugu– Please–!" You moan and cry pathetically as Suguru tongue-fucks you, forcing your ass down onto his face.

He pulls away after a moment, landing another smack! to your ass. You whine at the sting.

"Go on, princess. Use that pretty mouth of yours," he encourages, slightly grinding the bulge in his pants against the side of your face.

Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle his belt, pulling the faux leather from his belt loops and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor. You slowly unzip his pants and he helps you wiggle them down his thighs, leaving you to stare at the intimidating bulge of his hard cock in his boxers.

Suguru continues his assault on your poor pussy, purposefully teasing you by avoiding your swollen clit and kitten-licking at your clenching hole.

You eye his cock, always intimidated by the piercings in his dick pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Suguru has the underside of his dick pierced from the base to the tip and he loves to watch your face as your tight hole catches on each barbell.

You shakily pull his cock from his boxers, barely able to fit your hand around the entire thickness of it. The mushroom tip is red and leaky with precum, your mouth watering at the sight.

You kitten-lick at his tip, moaning at the musky taste of his cum. You nervously take the tip in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and gathering all your saliva into your cheeks, letting it dribble messily down his length.

Suguru groans against your exposed cunt, never getting tired of having your mouth wrapped around his big cock.

He presses his fingers against your hole, pushing two fingers into your tightness and chuckling softly at how your eager pussy greedily sucks his fingers in.

"Mm– Feels s'good," you whine, hand slowly dragging up and down Suguru's cock now wet with your saliva.

"Told you you'd like it," he retorts, finger-fucking you as you push your ass and hips back to meet the thrust of his fingers.

"Mm– I wanna cum s'bad," you moan.

"Not yet, princess. Haven't even had my cock down your throat yet," Suguru pulls his fingers from your cunt, pressing them to his lips to taste your sweetness and you whine in protest.

You take a breath before taking Suguru's cock into your mouth, back arching as Suguru toys with your clit. You inch your mouth further down his cock, dribbling spit everywhere as your lips graze over each piercing threaded through his cock.

"S'good, baby," Suguru grunts, hips involuntarily bucking into your mouth, forcing you to gag on his tip.

Your hands clutch his strong thighs, Suguru's arms wrap around your lower back, forcing your pussy down onto his mouth as you take as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, fist curling around what you can't fit.

You bob your head slowly, tongue swirling around the tip on your way up and lying flat on the way down. You moan around his cock when Suguru bucks his hips again, tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Good fucking girl," Suguru praises as he fucks your face, mouth lewdly slurping up your arousal.

You feel your belly start to burn and you know Suguru can tell you're about to cum with how your cunt spasms and your hips grind messily against his mouth.

He pulls away and you whine around his cock, "do you deserve to cum, baby?"

You bob your head on his cock, "mm–"

"I don't think you do," Suguru bucks his hips up, "fuck–"

Suguru pulls his cock from your mouth with a pop, his cock twitching as hot ropes of cum spill from the tip, painting your face with his cum.

You sit up, ass pressed to Suguru's chest as you peer over your shoulder at him, one eye forced closed as his cum drips down your cheek.

"Aw, sweet girl," Suguru coos, sitting up and forcing you between his legs, reaching for his shirt to wipe the cum off your face. "You did s'good."

"Sugu–" you whine, thighs pressing together.

"You wanna cum?" Suguru holds your chin in his hand.

You nod quickly, "I-I'll be good."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm, I promise, please, please–"

God, he can't deny you when you're begging.

Suguru lies back on the bed, his hand resting behind his head, strong and thick tattooed arms flexing as he does. He smirks at you before reaching a hand out for you.

"Fuck yourself on my cock then, baby."

You take his hand, thighs shaky as you straddle his hips. You reach a hand underneath you to guide his tip to your sopping hole. You sigh at the feeling, his tip stretching you open.

"That's my girl," Suguru praises, a hand resting on your hip to help guide you down on his cock.

The piercings along the underside of his cock catch against your tight hole, making you whine and gasp with every drag of the jewellery against your gummy walls.

"S'big, Sugu," you cry, hands planted on his abdomen and nails scraping against the taut skin.

You whine once you fully seat yourself on his cock, your belly bulges at the fullness and Suguru presses his hand to the bump in your belly, pressing down on it and forcing a choked moan from your throat.

Your back arches and you feel like you're about to cum without Suguru even fucking you. You cockwarm him for several seconds before Suguru scoffs, wraps his hands over your thighs and fucks his cock up into you.

You scream out at the feeling, his tip fucking against your cervix. You bounce on his cock, fucking yourself absolutely stupid on his thickness.

Your slick coats his cock, a white ring forming around the base of his cock with how hard and fast he's fucking up into you. Your thighs quiver as you bounce, your muscles sore and weak and surely going to fucking kill in the morning.

"That's it, doing so good," Suguru presses his rough thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hard bud as your slick coats his balls and his pelvis.

"M'gonna cum!" you whine out, bouncing hard on his cock as your belly burns.

"Cum f'me, princess."

You cum with a choked moan, coating Suguru's cock, his thighs and the sheets with your orgasm.

Suguru bucks up into you through your high, his cock prodding at your cervix and piercings dragging against your gummy walls, making you fucking dizzy with pleasure.

You fall against his chest with a huff, panting and sweating, bodies sticky and clammy from your little marathon.

Suguru pets your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, cock still snug in your cunt. He runs his fingertips down your back, soothing you and bringing you back down to earth as you curl your fists against his chest.

"You didn't wear panties on purpose, huh?"

You smile against his chest, "maybe."

author's note: had to repost cus tumblr was being DUMB >:|

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤPUPPY LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Siscon Damian Wayne x Fem Reader x Yandere Jon Kent Part 1

☆⁠ HEADCANON : What if Jon become obsessed with Damian's sister?

☆⁠ NOTES : Siscon is a word to refer those brothers and sisters who feel a strong sense of affection or attachment to their sisters. English is not my first language. Hone you enjoy!

Jon was over at the Wayne Manor for a sleepover, all wide-eyed excitement and nervous energy. Damian had begrudgingly invited him (Bruce’s insistence), and the younger boy was already regretting it. Jon was annoying, far too cheerful, and—worst of all—he had no sense of boundaries. Damian had learned to tolerate him, though, mostly because Jon was naive enough not to notice the storm that brewed in the younger Wayne’s mind whenever someone got too close to you.

And Jon got too close right away.

The moment you came downstairs, wearing an oversized hoodie and socks that slid on the hardwood floors, Jon froze. His big blue eyes widened to cartoonish proportions, his cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and for a moment, it looked like his brain had short-circuited.

"Hi," you greeted with a warm smile, ruffling Damian's hair as you walked past. (He hated it, or at least pretended to, judging by the subtle way he leaned into your touch.) "You must be Jon."

Jon stammered something incomprehensible, nodding like an overeager puppy. Damian shot him a glare that could have melted steel, but Jon didn’t even notice.

"You’re—uh—really pretty," Jon finally managed to choke out, his voice cracking slightly.

You laughed, a soft sound that only made Jon’s brain glitch further.

"Thanks, kiddo," you said, pinching his cheek. "You’re cute."

If Jon had a tail, it would’ve been wagging furiously. Damian, on the other hand, looked like he was about to commit murder.

From that day on, Jon was obsessed.

It takes exactly 0.2 seconds for Damian to realize Jon is crushing on you. The way Jon stares at you with stars in his eyes? The way he stumbles over his words when you talk to him? It’s disgusting.

Damian glare at Jon "You’re drooling."

"I-I am not!"

"Jon, are you okay? You’re all red." You said. You were worry for the kid.

Damian smirk "He’s fine. Just leave him."

Every time he came over to Wayne Manor, he asked about you. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you need help with anything? Damian was this close to slamming Jon’s head into the nearest wall.

"She’s busy, Kent," Damian would snap, his voice sharp enough to cut. "And she doesn’t have time to entertain idiotic farm boys."

But then you’d walk into the room, and Jon would light up like a Christmas tree. He’d start babbling about anything and everything, trying to impress you with stories about his dad or his adventures. You, being the sweetheart you were, humored him.

"Oh wow, you saved a cat from a tree?" you’d say, your tone genuine despite the simple nature of Jon’s stories. "You’re such a strong hero, Jon."

Damian, standing off to the side, would roll his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head.

Damian, of course, had always been protective of you. From the moment Bruce brought him into the family, you’d been his. You were his anchor, his comfort, the only person in the world who truly understood him.

But you didn’t see it that way.

To you, Damian was just your little brother. Sure, he had a sharp tongue and an attitude that could rival Gotham’s worst criminals, but deep down, he was a sweet kid. You adored him, and he adored you—though he showed it in his own... peculiar ways.

Like scowling at anyone who so much as looked at you.

Or “accidentally” spilling water on that guy who tried to flirt with you at the gala last month.

Or, more recently, hovering like a shadow every time Jon Kent was within a ten-foot radius of you.

It was during one of those infamous sleepovers that things came to a head.

The second Jon starts acting weird around you, Damian picks up on it. Like the time Jon saw you in the kitchen and tripped over his own feet, sending a glass of milk flying.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You say while helping Jon clean up, your hand brushing his

Jon blushing furiously "I—I’m fine! Really!"

Meanwhile Damian standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at him "Kent. A word."

Jon nervously excuses himself, and you think nothing of it. But in the other room, Damian corners him.

"Whatever you’re thinking, stop it," Damian growls.

"What? I don’t know what you’re talking about—"

Damian press him against the wall "Don’t test me, Kent."

Jon starts finding excuses to visit.

"Hey, Mr. Wayne wanted me to help with a case," he says one day, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Of course, Bruce didn’t actually call him over, but Jon’s banking on you not asking too many questions.

"Oh, that’s great! Damian’s in the training room."

"Actually… I was hoping to hang out with you. I mean, you’re so smart, and Damian talks about you all the time, and I think I could learn a lot from you."

Damian appears out of nowhere like a shadow. "She’s busy. Go away, Kent."

But Jon doesn’t leave. Instead, he lingers, asking you about everything: your favorite books, your favorite places to visit, what kind of guys you like (as if he’s not 13 and awkward).

"Jon, you’re a child," Damian says, arms crossed. "You can’t possibly comprehend what it means to appreciate someone as extraordinary as her."

"I’m only six years younger than her!"

"Exactly. Stay in your lane."

Damian takes it upon himself to shadow you everywhere whenever Jon is around, making it impossible for Jon to even think about making a move.

One day, Damian finds Jon leaving a love letter in your room. A love letter. Damian’s rage is unmatched. He tears the note in half and grabs Jon by the collar.

"If you ever even think about her again, I’ll make sure Superman has to scrape your remains off the moon."

"She deserves better than you."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

"You’re not allowed to talk to Kent anymore," he announces.

"Wait, what? Why not?"

"Because he’s dangerous. Trust me, I’m doing this for your own good."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

You’d made popcorn and brought it to Damian’s room, where he and Jon were supposed to be watching a movie. Instead, you walked in to find Jon staring dreamily at your photo on Damian’s desk (a candid shot of you laughing at something Alfred said).

Damian noticed your arrival first, his expression darkening.

"Kent," he growled.

Jon jumped, nearly knocking over the desk in his haste to look innocent. "I wasn’t—I mean—uh, hi, Y/N!"

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Hey, Jon. You boys okay?"

"Fine," Damian said through gritted teeth.

Jon, ignoring the blatant hostility radiating from his best friend, nodded enthusiastically. "Better now that you’re here!"

Damian shot him a look that could have frozen fire.

"Aw, thanks," you said with a laugh, completely oblivious to the tension. "You two are so sweet. You know that?"

Damian muttered something under his breath—something Jon was probably glad he didn’t hear.

Later that night, while Damian was in the bathroom, Jon decided to shoot his shot.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, fidgeting with the hem of his Superman-themed pajamas. "I was wondering... do you wanna hang out sometime? Like, just the two of us?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Like... a playdate?"

Jon’s face turned a deep shade of red. "N-No! Like... like a date-date."

You stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Oh, Jon, that’s so sweet. But I think you’re a little young for me, don’t you think?"

Jon looked crushed. Before he could respond, Damian walked back into the room, immediately sensing the shift in mood.

"What’s going on?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," you said quickly, ruffling Jon’s hair. "Jon was just being his adorable self."

Damian’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his jaw tightening. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Jon promised retribution.

From that night on, Jon’s crush only grew, but so did Damian’s possessiveness. Jon was like a puppy, trailing after you with stars in his eyes. Damian, meanwhile, was the guard dog, snapping and growling at anyone who dared come near you—especially Jon.

You, of course, were blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. To you, they were just two adorable kids who couldn’t seem to get along.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[atlabeth]

pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to pay me back.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 

[julymusings]

simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances at his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it. 

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “Especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged-looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.” 

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. “My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back. 

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled by the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.” 

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

 Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door. 

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There are voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There are some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t…kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on a scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night as a fighter, a crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here