#well yes I do but it was stupid reasons so they don’t matter

[neatfrog]

also I was NOT prepared for the absolute rawness of episode 4, I came to the series pretty blind like “haha funny show with quirky characters” and then they just SLAM me in the mf face with that absolute banger of a song and a compelling, serious subject matter

[euthymiya]

parasite — ft. ryomen sukuna

sukuna desires your presence late at night—oddly, it’s not for his pleasures. alternatively: true form sukuna and his begrudging attempt to cuddle

before you read: fem concubine reader (his favvv concubine) ; heian era true form sukuna ; references to previous sexual activities ; references to previous cannibalism (canon sukuna activities) ; reader is a bit cheeky ; more or less fluff (as fluffy as you can get with true form sukuna, at least)

Sukuna should eat you. You wouldn’t be the first concubine he’s devoured. Probably not the last, either. Instead, he waits impatiently for you to arrive at his chambers.

Finally, there’s a knock on his door.

“Enter,” he commands.

“You’ve summoned for me, my lord?” Comes your obedient reply as you slowly, cautiously step in. You study him for a fleeting moment, only relaxing slightly once you realize he doesn’t seem angered.

“I did. Come.”

That’s all he says…because, well, how is Sukuna meant to explain he’s summoned you here to lay beside him?

(It’s your fault, actually—this pathetic and abominable desire stems from your doing alone. You’re a tad bit bolder amongst the concubines, a bit more expressive in your desires than the others dare to be.

Yes, you let him have his way with you, and yes, you hardly complain when he’s less than gentle. Quite the opposite of complain, in fact. But afterwards…well, afterwards, you are needy.

Exceedingly so.

You dare to curl into his chest and tuck yourself against his side, leeching onto the warmth of his body like a parasite he should kill for the audacity. But…there is something about the way you speak in that hushed, gentle tone of yours. It’s always coupled by your grin.

That radiant, bright, horrible little grin.

The roses are coming nicely, my lord—though, I’ve pricked more than a few fingers tending to them.

Did you hear my lord? There’s been word that two of the servants have ended their romantic endeavors. How sad, no?

Today I’ve made a little friend, my lord. A small humming bird seems to have attached itself to my side no matter where I go in the gardens. I do hope it’ll visit me again tomorrow.

You tell him everything. Silly, stupid, ridiculous nonsense that you spout from your daringly talkative lips. And he…he listens. He listens well, in fact. He hears every overly detailed recount of your day and somehow, for some odd reason, he doesn’t seem to forget the useless information you insist of badgering him with.

And he’s grown accustomed. It’s your doing, he realizes—you’ve forced him into a routine he now finds too habitual to fall into.)

“Yes, my lord,” is all you say to his orders, walking closer to him where he lays sprawled on his bed. Without wasting a moment, you begin to undress yourself, letting your robes fall past your shoulders and begin to expose the beginnings of your chest.

He grunts in irritation before saying, “I did not summon you here for that.”

“O-oh,” you quickly pull your clothes to cover yourself, almost like that small bit of cleavage has left you more exposed than you’ve ever been. You don’t meet his eyes, staring at your feet in embarrassment as you mumble, “My sincerest apologies, my lord. I…I was under the assumption you had summoned me for your usual desires, so—”

“Enough,” he silences you. You quickly close your mouth. (Such a talkative one, you are. He’s always noticed this about you). “Come.”

This time, he gestures ever so slightly to the empty space beside him on his bed. So slightly, that you’d think it took every inch of his efforts to gather enough willpower and set aside his pride to invite you over.

You hesitantly walk over, seating yourself on the edge of the mattress beside him as you look over at him in utter confusion—and then, as you let out a sharp gasp, a strong hand grabs your wrist while the neighboring arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to lay draped across his chest the way you usually like to.

It feels odd, he notes, having you pressed against him with your clothes in the way. He’s used to your nude, bare figure. Perhaps he should have allowed you to disrobe, after all—but having you like this, regardless of being dressed or not, is already much better than before.

He’s almost infuriated by how much easier he can rest when you’re tucked against him.

“M-my lord?” Your voice quivers in shock, looking up at him in more confusion than fear.

He likes the fact that there isn’t as much fear as he expected. Odd, he thinks to himself faintly, Sukuna loves the feeling of being feared.

He decides not to dwell too much on it for the sake of his own peace for now as he grunts, “Sleep. If you don’t wish to be eaten.”

Silently, you relax against his body, molding into him the way you do in that post coital way you’ve gotten him accustomed to. Such a pointless, meaningless gesture that you always seem hell bent on seeking out—somehow, in some way, now you’ve got him doing the same.

He really should eat you.

“You know,” you murmur, giggling quietly, “It’s a bit funny.”

“What is?” He asks dangerously. Still, you don’t fear him.

He’s starting to question a bit whether you’re plain stupid or smarter than you let on. Do you lack fear because you’re ignorant to his evils? Or are you smart enough to realize something keeps him from harming you?

Even he’s unsure of the answer.

“I was just thinking about how nice it is to sleep surrounded by your warmth when the servant informed that you had sent for me,” you hum, “It makes for easy rest, you see. It’s almost as though you’ve read my mind.

He’s silent. And then, “You talk a lot,” comes his gruff reply.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I shall be quiet if that is what you wish—”

“I did not say to stop,” he responds, slightly agitated. (Why, he has to question, is he so agitated by the prospect of your silence? Surely…surely he can’t enjoy your incessant blabbering.)

“Oh,” you perk up. “I see.”

Instantly, that radiant, bright smile stretches across your features again. You don’t belong beside such a dark, evil spirit such as himself—but, he thinks, you will never get away with escaping him. Ever.

Not that you’ve ever given even an inkling of suspicion that you’d like to, but resolutely, he decides you will never be free of him.

“My lord?” You whisper, breaking him of his thoughts.

“What.”

His grunt is more of a command than a question. You seem rather fond all the same.

“Is there something on your mind? You seem…deep in thought, you know.” Gently, boldly, you reach over, thumb delicately smoothing over the crinkles between his furrowed brows.

He glances down at you for a moment through the corners of his eyes. The slight mischief in your pupils answers his earlier question—you’re smart. Infinitely so.

You’ve long come to the conclusion that Sukuna can never muster up the desire to see you in harms way. Especially not by his hand.

It slightly eases him to know you are aware, but it puts him in a deeply sour mood just as much.

“Sleep,” he grumbles, tugging you closer with a tightening of his arm around your waist, “You talk too much, woman.”

He just needs a little cuddle to go sleep 🥹 <- me babyfying the worst man ever (but he’s MY worst man ever)

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 

Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

[emisloves]

A FRIEND LIKE HIM ✦ N.RK

pairing: bsf!riki x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers

warnings: mixed signals, mutual pining (but not very obvious), jealousy, kissing, forced (?) making out, fluff

word count: 2.6k

a/n: looks familiar? i had posted it on @/emi-en, my previous blog. this was also my first attempt at fluff, so it isn't my best work. i am not very proud of this one.

You truly were grateful for having a friend like Riki.

From when you guys met back in second grade, when he shared his bento with you after finding you crying on the rooftop, since your mother forgot to pack you lunch, right up to your high school years, when he holds your hand to make sure you don’t get lost in crowds.

You really were grateful for him.

It's just that– sometimes you wished he wasn't so– confusing.

It was the third time this month. The third time a guy had come up to you to ask you out, before stuttering and backing up at the last second. The reason? Why, it's Riki of course.

He was always with you. Everywhere. He almost never left you alone, especially with a guy. His excuse was always the same whenever you confronted him about it.

“I just don't want to leave you alone with them– you know how some people can be when they don't get their way, right?”

It frustrated you beyond measure. But you understood his intentions. The last time you were alone on your own with a guy that wasn't him– didn't end very well.

Long story short, you had once managed to evade Riki and gone to the rooftop all by yourself, where you coincidentally met another classmate of yours. Said classmate was fairly nice, leading you guys to have a long conversation with each other– before he started being creepy.

Just before he could actually try anything, Riki found you guys. He took one look at your uncomfortable expression and the other dude’s face, immediately making an excuse about how you were both late to your after school tuition, quickly wrapping an arm around your shoulder and taking you away from the guy. So yes, in a way, you understood his protectiveness.

But this wasn't it. There were so many more things about him that confused you to no end. You see, he likes to give you mixed signals.

“Now what would you need my hair tie for?”

Riki scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well– you know– look, all my friends wear one on their hand, okay? I also want one–”

You stared at him, unamused. “All of your friends also have girlfriends. They wear their girlfriends’ hair ties on their hands. You don't have a girlfriend. By wearing my hair tie, you would be basically saying that I am your girlfriend.”

He groaned. “Who cares what they think? If I want to wear your hair tie, I will. Now stop complaining and give me one.”

You sighed, taking a hair tie out of your pouch and handing it to him. Riki was persistent, you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you until you gave in.

To any passer-by, it would seem like he has feelings for you, right?

Wrong.

“How do I ask her out?”

You stopped chewing the end of your pencil momentarily, looking up from your work, surprised. You weren’t aware of Riki having a crush. “Who?”

Hei shook his head. “Doesn't matter, just tell me how I should ask a girl out. In a way where she absolutely cannot reject me.”

You raised a brow at him. So he had a crush on a girl, who he desperately wanted to go out with, and he decided you were the best person to ask for help from. Was it normal for you to feel hurt in a situation like this?

You shook off your stupid thoughts, before thinking deeply. “Well– you need to make it special and memorable for her.”

He stared at you cluelessly, causing you to stifle a groan. Must you teach him exactly how to ask a girl out?

“Maybe get her favorite flowers. A big bouquet of them. Don't ask her directly to be your date, make a special speech for her, the more emotional, the better. Remember, background also matters. If you do all that at some stupid place like a parking lot or something similar– prepare to get rejected.”

Riki slowly nodded, processing all the information. “Right– thanks a lot, dwarf.”

You gave an offended gasp. Dwarf? After you tell him exactly how to get a date without fail, he insults your height? Again?

You weren't even that short. It's not your fault he decided to keep growing until he was practically a giant– towering over not just you, but almost everyone in school. No wonder he is the Basketball Team Captain– but that's beside the point.

Do you see how confusing he is now? Well, guess what? There is more to it.

Riki always holds your hand in crowds, claiming you're ‘so short you can easily get lost, or worse, kidnapped.’ You had taken great offense to it the first time he said that, refusing to talk to him for two days– before he brought you ice cream at your house, causing you to finally cave in.

Since then, you haven't complained again. If Riki wants to hold your hand in crowds to ensure your safety, who are you to complain? Especially when his hand feels so warm and comforting against your own– but he doesn't have to know that.

Today was no different. Both of you were outside, having decided to hang out together for the entire evening, eating at different food stalls without any adult supervision. The streets were more crowded than usual, prompting him to hold your hand the entire time. The only times he left your hand was when the two of you stopped at a stall to eat.

As the evening rolled by, the streets got less and less crowded. Riki still hadn't left your hand.

It was already eight pm now. There were barely any people around– five people, give or take? That isn't considered a crowd, right? Then why was he still holding your hand?

You suddenly stopped walking, causing Riki to stop as well. He turned around, tilting his head and looking at you curiously. Noticing your silence, he finally spoke. “Why did you stop?”

You bit your lip, before snapping at him. “Why didn't you stop?”

He blinked, looking utterly baffled by your sudden outburst. “What do you mean by that?”

You rolled your eyes, before lifting both of your intertwined hands in front of his face. “This. You said you will hold my hand when we are in a crowd to prevent myself from getting lost– does this look like a crowd to you?”

Riki blinked, before opening his mouth, as if to say something, only to close it again. After ten extremely slow seconds, he spoke. “I just– like holding your hand– it feels nice–”

It was your turn to be stumped. Was it his life’s mission to make your heart flutter? You could only hope he didn't realize how red you were–

You snapped yourself out of the weird thoughts, mentally scolding yourself. ‘He doesn't like you like that, he is planning to ask someone else out to prom– stop overthinking his actions.’ That's what you always told yourself. Because, at the end of the day, he was just your best friend, and it’s normal for best friends to act this way– right?

You realized how stupid you looked just standing and staring at him, after he confessed to your hand feeling nice to hold. You cleared your throat, before speaking again. “Right– let's just go home now. It's pretty late anyway.”

One thing was for sure. You most definitely had a crush on Riki. The only problem? He is your best friend, there is no way you're ruining your friendship with him over a stupid crush that probably won't last.

You were wrong. Your feelings towards him did not fade away. Instead, they seemed to intensify, carving into an ugly jealousy whenever he looked at another girl or vice-versa. No matter how hard you tried to suppress your feelings, you couldn't help but look elsewhere when such an event happened, clenching your jaw or subtly rolling your eyes. Only, you weren't as subtle as you thought.

Both of you were on your way to the lockers, school having just ended. You were putting your books inside, while Riki waited for you beside your locker. Once you were done putting your books away, you closed the locker door, turning to him. “Alright I’m done let’s g–”

You stopped speaking, witnessing the exchange between Riki and another girl. The girl smiled at him and handed him a chocolate, before speaking. “Your last Basketball match was really fun to watch! You play really well, Riki. No wonder the coach selected you as captain. I will be there in your next match, wearing a jersey with your number to support you! Good luck!”

The girl smiled again, before walking away. The entire time she spoke, Riki was smiling. You couldn’t help the jealousy that flared in your chest at their interaction.

Riki looked at you, his smile dropping at your expression. He frowned at you. “What happened?”

You tried to neutralize your expression. “Nothing. Let’s just go home.”

He shook his head, fully turning towards you. “It doesn’t seem like it’s ‘nothing’."

You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and starting to walk away from him. “As I said, it’s nothing. So drop it.”

Riki sighed, his shoulders slumping at your cold tone. He trailed behind you like a kicked puppy, not saying anything else.

The two of you lived in the same neighborhood, so both of you always went home and came to school together. Both of you always took a shortcut, a some-what creepy alleyway, in absence of which it would take an extra half an hour to travel.

Today, as you were walking through the same alleyway on your way back, you suddenly felt a tug on your hand. You turned around, to see Riki pulling you by the hand. “What happened?”

He didn’t let go of your hand. “We are alone now. Tell me what happened back there.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to shrug off his grasp– in vain. “Nothing happened. Let go of my hand.”

He was starting to get pissed off by your stubborn attitude. “Either you tell me now, or we stay here till you decide to stop being childish.”

You glared at him, harshly trying to tug your hand out of his grasp. “What is wrong with you? I just told you nothing happened, didn’t I? Let go of me–”

He tightened his hold on your hand, giving it a harsh tug, pulling you towards him. You gasped, stumbling forward, into his chest. He held you tightly by the waist, leaving you no room to escape. You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, in vain. “What the fuck–”

He glared at you. “Do you know how annoying it is when you decide to be such a stubborn bitch? I asked you nicely about what the actual fuck your problem was, didn’t I? However, it seems like you don’t understand anything when you’re spoken to nicely. Will you speak up now, or will I have to force an answer out of you?”

You scoffed at his audacity. “Are you threatening me now?”

He poked his inner cheek with his tongue. “If threatening you is what it takes for you to finally speak up, then yes, yes I am threatening you.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him. You pushed him with all your strength, causing his grip to loosen, taking the chance to immediately run away. He was shocked at how you suddenly broke free, before shaking off his surprise and immediately running after you. His long legs caught up to you quickly, holding your wrist and harshly tugging it. You gasped, stumbling, causing him to quickly catch you. He slammed you against the alley wall, pinning your wrists above your head. He leaned down to be face to face with you. “Will you speak up now, or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

You looked at him, shock written all over your face. Your face hardened almost immediately. “Fuck you.”

His gaze sharpened. “Fine then. I didn’t want to do this but you left me no choice.”

Before you could come up with another sassy reply, Riki suddenly smashed his lips against yours, causing you to freeze.

The kiss was nothing like what you had imagined before. It was harsh, as if he was trying to punish you non verbally for not answering him. You didn’t reciprocate his kiss, keeping your lips firmly sealed. You could tell he was starting to get frustrated, but you still didn’t kiss him back.

He was starting to get pissed, letting go of your wrists to hold your waist in one hand, your jaw in the other. He bit down on your lip, drawing blood, causing you to gasp. He could care less about your discomfort, sucking the blood off your lip. He tilted your head with one hand, deepening the kiss.

You finally kissed him back, slowly bringing your hands to his shoulders. His kiss became a lot gentler, his grip on you loosening. After what felt like an eternity, you both finally parted.

He rested his forehead on yours, both of you trying to catch your breath. “Will you tell me what’s the matter now?”

You gulped, before sighing. “Nothing really. I was just– jealous.”

He frowned, lifting his head. “Jealous? Why so?”

You bit your lip, looking down. “That girl– she was talking to you and all you did the entire time she spoke was smile at her.”

He smiled slightly, lifting your chin. “It was only common courtesy.”

Upon seeing you continuing to sulk, he pressed a small peck to your lips, before speaking. “Besides, she isn’t the one that I’m kissing right now, is she?”

You went red in the face, praying he didn’t realize how hard you were blushing, before a thought struck you, causing your mood to sour again. “Why are you kissing me anyway? You shouldn’t do things like this casually just to get an answer out of someone.”

He laughed in disbelief, before pecking your cheek. “Remember when you told me exactly how to ask out a girl so that she wouldn’t be able to reject me in any circumstances?”

You slowly nodded. “Yea? What about it?”

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, I wanted to ask you out that way. A big bouquet of lilies and daisies, talking about how we met, how I felt about you at that time, when was the first time you made my heart flutter, how I got jealous of all the guys that tried to ask you out– all of it at the rooftop of our school, where we first met. But none of that matters now right? Since you already know how I feel.”

The entire time that he spoke, you listened to him, your eyes were open so widely that they looked like hearts. You smiled once he was done. “I had forgotten to add another thing. None of that matters if the girl you’re asking out is into you already.”

He looked baffled for a few seconds, before his eyes widened in realization. He smiled so wide that it started to hurt his cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, one that you gladly reciprocated. When you both broke apart, he leaned his forehead on yours, a small smile on his face. “This might not have been how I planned to confess, but I’m glad it happened this way.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’m glad too.”

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[thedevilspearl]

asking them stupid questions — all brothers

a/n: having a hard time writing smut atm so here’s some silly headcanons with the brothers. i was really tired when i proofread this so there may be some mistakes.

tags: 2k words, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub + belphegor. (belphie’s is a little suggestive).

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer has had enough.

it’s been a long day and he wished for a quiet night in his office to relax with some tea while overlooking the bills his brothers have riled up.

but he’s quite distracted tonight.

peace and quiet is not an option. especially with you loitering, floating around his office and touching all the trinkets and décor. you’ve never shown interest in them before, but tonight, all of a sudden lucifer’s office is the most inviting place in the world.

“mc?”

“yes, honey?”

“is something the matter.”

there is a painstakingly long silence before you answer. “….no.”

letting out a little sigh, he asks, “are you quite sure?”

you hum with a subtle nod, barely looking him in the eye and he is now certain something is wrong.

“mc, please. if you aren’t feeling well, you can tell me about it. you don’t need to make this difficu—”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“what?” lucifer’s voice croaks.

“it’s just that i felt sad thinking about how you might not love me anymore if one day i turned into a worm and couldn’t turn back into me.”

“mc, in what world would you ever turn into a worm?”

“most likely this one. remember that time mammon accidentally turned me into a sheep in spells class? i was cute as a sheep, so it was okay. but as a worm, i’d be small and slimy and gross. i’d be unloveable.”

“that is enough,” he rises from his chair, speaking with command but still gentle enough to not upset you further. “you shouldn’t think of such things. it is so silly of you to think i would ever stop loving you.”

“luci….”

“if i must spell it out for you, then yes. i would still love you if you were a worm and i would carry you everywhere with me to ensure you’re never lost or hurt. i would need something small and protective to carry you in, but yes. i will always love you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“if there was a zombie apocalypse and i was bitten, what would you do?”

“hah?!” mammon’s face contorts at your random question. “what are ya talking about?”

“i’ve been thinking about that movie we watched….the zombie one. and just wondered what it would be like.”

“gave up on surviving already, did ya?” he chuckles, collapsing onto his bed beside you, his hand resting on your waist.

“no, but i wanna know! what would you do if i turned into a zombie?”

“well….what are the options?” his smirk earns him a playful smack on the chest. “hey! i’m serious. i’ll be so sad that i won’t be able to think straight, so ya need to give me some options.”

“fine,” you pout, scratching your brain for solutions. “i suppose the most humane thing to do would be to kill me. you know, to make sure i’m not forced to live as a mindless zombie eating other humans.”

“okay….”

“or you could tie me up, maybe chain me, and keep me alive by feeding me living people.”

“why would i keep ya around if you’re gonna stink like a rotting corpse?”

while mammon laughs, your brows furrow with annoyance, mostly feigned but there’s a small sense of hurt in there when you think about mammon not wanting to keep you after you turn into a zombie, despite it being completely logical and reasonable.

“hey,” his voice is soft as he leans over and kisses your cheek, “don’t worry. i’d handcuff us together and let you bite me. then we can be zombies together and never be separated.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

movie night always means one thing, and that’s you and levi curling up with tangled limbs and a hoard of cushions and blankets. a joint blanket burrito with little space between you but that’s a good thing.

the closeness makes it cosier.

tonight, you opted for a more emotional movie. a romance, but romances are always emotional for both of you. that’s why you try your best to stay away from the romantic movies and stick to action packed fantasies or sci-fi’s that are the furthest thing from romance.

but there was a new and popular movie making the headlines and levi couldn’t wait to watch it. you knew watching it was a lost hope, and now you’re sobbing in levi’s arms watching the struggles the love interests are going through to get to each other.

“i’m so glad it wasn’t that difficult for us to be together,” you sniffle, feeling a wave of gratitude take over. “i love you, levi.”

“i love you, too,” his voice trembles and he quietly wipes his own tears.

“hey, levi?”

“what is it?”

“can i wipe my nose on you?”

“what? no!”

too late. you buried your head into his chest, wiping your face clean and covering his favourite shirt in snot.

“gross!”

“i’m sorry. i wanted to get a tissue but they’re too far away. i didn’t want to leave the burrito.”

“it’s fine,” he grumbles, begrudgingly patting you on the head to tell you it’s okay despite ruining his shirt. “let’s finish the movie.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

“would you still love me if i told you the truth?”

satan tries to hide his piqued interest, like he usually does. he likes to come off as the too–cool–to–show–i–care kind of guy but the truth is, he is more invested in this truth than anything else.

he nonchalantly turns the page of his book and with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, he asks, “what truth?”

“that i’m really a lizard.”

well, he wasn’t expecting that.

he watches you intently over the pages of his book. you stop pacing around the library and make your way to him, showing no expression on your face. usually, he would be quite good at reading your face but in all honesty, he can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“a lizard?”

you nod. “a lizard.”

“you don’t look like a lizard.”

“that’s because i’m a lizard pretending to be a human.”

“a what now?” he shuts his book, sitting upright from his laid position. he tried his hardest not to give in to your silly but mysterious notion but he is far more interested in your explanation.

“you know about the lizard people, right?”

“i do not.”

“so i just exposed myself for nothing?”

“what in the devildom are you talking about?”

“it doesn’t matter. forget i said anything. if anyone finds out i told you, i could get killed.”

“please tell me that isn’t true.”

silence.

you refuse to even look him in the eye. surely, you are joking. there’s no way you’re really a lizard, let alone it be possible for lizards to be secretly living inside of humans. what kind of conspiracy would that be?

it’s unimaginable, even for demons. but whether the lizard thing is true or he’s falling for a joke, you still need an answer to your question.

“yes,” he pulls you into his side. “i would still love you if you were really a lizard.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

“asmo,” you sing the demon of lust’s name, catching the attention that he would devote to you at any given moment. “can i ask you something?”

“go ahead, my dearest. fire away.”

he winks, hoping it would be something on the more flirtatious side, but instead you fill his mind with a grotesque image.

“what would you do if you could never touch me again?”

he immediately smothers you with a hug. “what are you talking about?! of course, that would never happen!”

“but what if?” you snuggle into him further. “what if you could never touch me?”

he hums, thinking of any solution to be able to touch you again.

“i’d cry,” he says simply. “i’d cry a lot.”

“aww,” you pout. “i don’t want you to cry.”

“and i don’t want to imagine a world where i can’t hold you like this,” he kisses your lips, “where i can’t kiss you like this,” he lifts up your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, “where i can’t hold your hand like this.”

“asmo….”

“i don’t know what would ever cause me to never be able to touch you again, but it would be the end of my world if it came true. i don’t know if i’d be able to live.”

“you’d still be able to see me and speak to me.”

“but not being able to touch you when i see you and hear you is the most painful torture imaginable. but you know what that means, right?”

“what does it mean?” you squeal and his hands tickle your sides.

“it means i need to do all the touching i can now to make up for it!”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

“hey, beel?”

“yeah?”

your quiet voices fill the dark path home from rad. beel always walks you home; be it in comfortable silence or deep conversations, you don’t imagine walking home any other way.

and the quiet air of the evening provides the perfect chance to ask him a question you’ve been waiting to ask all day.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“if i had five million cheeseburgers and you could only eat them if you slapped me in the face, what wou—”

“i’d slap you in the face.”

“i didn’t even finish my question.” you yelp, brows furrowing in frustration.

“you don’t need to finish it. i’d do anything to eat that many cheeseburgers.”

your feet plant in the ground and beel doesn’t stop walking until your hand which holds his pulls him back.

“are you serious?”

“uhmm….i think so?”

you’re grateful for the fact that he’s rethinking his answer but it was a shock to hear him say he’d slap you so firmly in the beginning. it was a stupid question to ask in the first place, but you never imagined beel ever wanting to hurt you.

he tugs on your hand and you continue walking with him, picking up the pace to get home.

“mc….” he asks. “did i say something wrong?”

his obliviousness to his own words is a harder slap in the face than the slap he promised those five million burgers.

“you said you’d slap me, beel, and it makes me sad.”

“hm….we can go halfsies on the burgers?”

“huh?”

“i’ll slap you and then we can share the burgers.” he promises. “you’d feel bad because i slapped you. and i’d feel bad because i slapped you. so to make it better for both of us, we can split the cheeseburgers.”

you look at him, astounded because you don’t know if his explanation makes his answer better or worse.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

a cuddling session in the attic with belphegor is exactly what you needed after a long, draining day. you naturally made your way up to him as soon as you had some free time, desperate for his warmth.

but belphie had a different warmth in mind with all the kisses he litters up and down your neck.

“belphie, i’m tired.” you whine, but still urge him on to kiss you harder.

“then close your eyes. i’ll kiss you until you fall asleep.”

your heart swarms with the thrill of his words, the promise of being here and showering you with affection even on your worst days.

“is something wrong?” he asks.

“no. why?”

“you’re not falling asleep.”

“that’s because you’re kisses are keeping me awake.”

“they’re meant to help you fall asleep.”

“i hate to break it to you belphie, but they’re having the opposite effect.” you tease.

“is that so?” he nibbles you ear. “what about this?”

you arch into his body, sensitive from his kisses and now the more urgent movements of his lips ignite a fire in your belly. his lips graze you, teeth nip you and tongue swipe over your skin. he sucks hard enough to leave bruises, and kisses softly on every mark he leaves.

“belphie….” the soft whisper of his name catches his attention. “how many ghosts do you think are watching us right now?”

he ceases for a moment, then lifts his head from the crook of your neck. “what?”

“what if there’s ghosts watching us right now? and what if they keep watching us while we….you know….?”

“i never thought of that before.”

“it’s weird, right?”

“definitely. let’s never have sex again.”

[pitchsidestories]

treat you better II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2451

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, please enjoy. <3

warnings: toxic (ex-)partner, but with a happy ending.

You had been staring on your phone all evening, impatiently waiting to see your girlfriends number appear on the screen. But your phone stayed silent.

Subconsciously, you tapped on the photos icon on your home screen and started to scroll through pictures of you and her together.

Since you parted ways last summer when you moved to Barcelona and she joined Chelsea, you talked less and less. She said she was cool with it but you had the feeling that this lack of communication strained your relationship.

“Y/n?“, Ingrids voice disrupted your thoughts.

“Yes?“ You looked up, surprised about the fact that you were not the only one in the changing room after your late gym session.

The Norwegian sat down on the bench next to you: “Are you still waiting?“

You sighed and forced yourself to put your phone aside: “She promised to call me tonight…“

“You’ve been waiting for hours.“, Mapi reminded you from the other side of the room where she casually leaned against the lockers.

You remained silent. Somehow you felt very stupid in that situation.

Ingrid gently laid a hand on your knee. With slight concern in her voice, she asked: “Have you had dinner yet?“

“No…“, you admitted reluctantly.

With a smirk, Mapi folded her arms across her chest: “Let’s go get some then.“

“Wear something you love. We’ll pick you up later.“, Ingrid winked before taking her bag and leaving the changing room with her girlfriend.

You silently nodded to yourself. They really tricked you into having to go home instead of sitting on the hard bench for hours, waiting for that call.

You followed their instructions as soon as you returned to your apartment and slipped into lacy black top and your favourite suit. You were just in the process of doing your hair when the couple rang at your door.

“I’m ready.“, you called out to them while grabbing a black handbag and slipping on a pair of sneakers.

“Good, lets go.“, Mapi grinned as you joined them outside.

“You look stunning by the way.“, Ingrid complimented your outfit.

You beamed: “Thank you.“

“You both do.“, Mapi joined in, taking both you and Ingrid in.

“Ingrid and you always look so beautiful.“, you said. A lot of people on your team dressed well but you often found yourself in awe of what a gorgeous couple they were. And then you remembered something: “My girlfriend doesn’t like me in suits.“

Mapis smile turned immediately into a frown: “Why not?“

“She said it looks too gay.“, you relayed what your girlfriend had told you several times before.

You noticed Mapi and Ingrid sharing a concerned look.

“But…“, Ingrid began.

“What a weird thing to say!”, the Spanish defender commented outraged on both of their behalf’s.

Her Norwegian girlfriend nodded in silent agreement.

“It kind of is right?”, you bit your lip guiltily while you three took your seats at the table of the restaurant. It was way fancier than you expected. But just like the couple it had an elegant touch to it. The candlelight tinted your faces shine in a warm, soft glow.

“I only know that from people who don’t want other women to notice their girlfriends.”, Mapi admitted, sounding serious.

“Which is weird because no matter how you dress y/n, people will always notice you. You’re always gorgeous.”, the younger woman observed, looking deep into your eyes as she spoke.

These words coming from such a beautiful human herself made your cheeks turn pink. You were never happier for the dimly lit room, so it was hard to see the change of your face colour.

“Exactly, you’re our team Estrella for a reason.”, the heavily tattooed Spaniard reminded you of the nickname you had in your team.

A sad smile appeared on her lips, remembering how you changed since your girlfriend has stepped into your life. The Barcelona girls were all a bit worried as your spark has lessened over the time.

“Although you lost a bit of your light.”, Mapi sighed.

“I didn’t loose my light.”, you protested weakly. Unsure if you really trusted your own words in the situation.

“Y/n, you deserve better.”, Ingrid replied, taking your hand into hers to squeeze it empathetically.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”, you tried to assure them.

“Do you know what you want to order?”, the defender swiftly changed the topic to something more enjoyable.

When the meals arrived, you clapped excitedly into your hands:” This looks so delicious.”

“It’s the best, trust us.”, Mapi grinned.

“I do.”, you answered smiling. Everyone in your team knew that the two women didn’t only have great taste in clothes, but in food as well.

“As you should.”, the Scandinavian chirmed.

Looking around, soaking into the calm atmosphere of your surroundings, you declared:” This is really nice here.”

“It’s our favourite.”, the older woman confessed beaming.

“It’s perfect for dates..”, your heart sank once the sentence was out. Wishing your girlfriend was here in this moment even though you knew deep inside that it was almost more fun with your two teammates, less stressful for you. Their relaxedness rubbed a bit on to you and you felt a sense of calm.

“Yes, very romantic.”, Ingrid answered delighted.

“You two are so cute.”, you hummed.

Mapi exchanged a look with Ingrid before she leaned over the table and whispered: “Ingrid always is when she really likes someone…“

“She’s?“, you asked, not sure what the defender was hinting at.

“I guess thats true, yes.“, Ingrid admitted, slightly flustered. Her long fingers barely touching yours on the table.

You looked up at her: “Oh.“

“Wasn’t your girlfriend supposed to come tomorrow to spend your free weekend together? What did you plan for that?“, Mapi inquired suddenly. She studied your face for any change.

You shrugged nonchalantly as if you had not planned this for over a week now: “Oh, I thought I would show her Barcelona. And then we could have a little picnic down at the beach.“

“Oh my god. That’s so sweet.“, Ingrid squeed.

“I thought she would enjoy that. But she hasn’t confirmed yet that she would be able to make it.“ You tried to keep any disappointment out of your voice.

“If she can’t make it in time, we’d love to come and do it with you.“, Mapi smiled.

“You’d?“

Ingrid confirmed with a nod: “Yes, we would.“

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest. “That’s so nice of you.“

“It’ll be a pleasure, y/n.“, Mapi said, reaching for your hand.

You had such a lovely evening with your teammates that when the call came the next morning, it felt like a shock. You knew what she was about to say before she even greeted you.

“Sorry, y/n. I can’t come… Emma said we need to do extra training on the weekend.“

“Oh… that’s okay. Next time maybe.“, you replied almost automatically.

You knew you should feel sad or disappointed about her cancellation but there was also a part of you that felt nothing but relief in this moment.

You immediately took your phone and messaged Mapi and Ingrid to come down to the beach later today if they were still down for it.

Weirdly, you found yourself less anxious and more excitement for the picnic with the two of them while you started packing everything.

You met Mapi and Ingrid in the late evening. A blanket and a few pillows were already spread out on the fine sand when they arrived. Freshly baked bread, cheese and ham as well as olives and grapes were piled high on plates.

“This is literally perfect.“, Ingrid marvelled at the sight.

Mapi sat down: “I agree, this is so nice.“

“We’ll see the sunset too.“, you added, pointing towards the horizon.

Ingrid popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and laid her head into you lap: “I hope you don’t mind too much that you have to spend the evening with us.“

Absentmindedly, you started to stroke her dark hair: “I mean I’m a bit sad that she couldn’t come but your company definitely makes it better.“

“Don’t worry, we can make sure you have a good time too.”, the Spanish defender promised.

“You already do a great job at that.”, you assured the couple. With a melancholic glance at the sea you added:” I just miss her and being touched, does that sound weird?”

“No, that makes perfect sense.”, the Norwegian told you while simultaneously exchanging a knowing look between her and her girlfriend.

Afterwards a pleasant silence descended upon you three, the only sound came from the waves crashing on the shore, until Mapi raised her voice.

“We’d treat you better.”

“What?”, you looked at her in surprise.

“You’re unhappy with her. She’s been ignoring you, she always wants to have the upper hand.. and we saw that she likes to leave her marks when you saw each other.”, Ingrid listed the reasons why you should break up with your girlfriend on her long, elegant fingers.

“And you two think you can treat me better?”, you nervously licked your lips, too afraid to look directly into their eyes, so you chose to watch at the water instead.

“No. We know we can treat you better.”, the tattooed woman corrected you in a serious tone. Her girlfriend nodded in quiet agreement.

“Which isn’t hard because I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone else behind your back.”, Mapi continued, there was anger towards your lover swinging in her voice.

“The whole team thinks so.”, the Scandinavian cleared her throat. Every teammate thought that you deserved better than that.

You were startled by your own words coming out of your mouth next:” I suspected it, because I asked Millie if they had training on the weekend, she said no.”

The one thing you were sure was that your England teammate and co-captain would never lie to you.  Remembering the short call made you tear up all over again. Nothing hurt more when knowing that everyone knew someone was betraying you behind your back.

“I’m sorry, amor. But we don’t want to see you suffer any longer.”, empathetically Mapi laid an arm around you:

“I feel so stupid, girls.”, you confessed, trying to swipe away the tears streaming down your cheek.

“You’re not stupid.”, Ingrid pressed a kiss on to your hand before raising up to hug you from the other side.

“We all have been here.”, the defender told you.

“Really?”

“Really.”, she replied.

Suddenly you knew what to do, you didn’t knew where the bravery came from, but you were grateful for it as you announced: “ I’ll tell her that I’m done with her games, the only game I’m interested in is football.”

“That sounds reasonable.”, the Norwegian beamed at you proudly.

“It’s for the best.“, you said quietly, not sure if you were talking to them or to yourself.

Mapi flashed you an encouraging smile: “Yes, but you’ll always have us.“

“Right, you can count on us.“, Ingrid agreed.

“Thank you, girls.“

“You’re welcome.“

You slowly stood up from the blanket, pulling your phone out of your pocket and took a deep breath: “Excuse me. I think I’ll have to make a call.“

Ingrid nodded: “Go on.“

“See you in a minute.“ You forced yourself to a smile.

There was something in the way, they looked at you that gave you the confidence to walk a few steps closer to the water and dial you girlfriends phone number.

“Hi, y/n.“, she greeted you. She never sounded happy when you called, only annoyed as if you were always calling at the wrong time.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something…“, you came straight to the point. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Sure, but I need to leave soon so you better make it quick.“

In this moment, you knew you made the right decision. There was no fear or doubt, the words just came to you: “I can make it very quick. I want to break up.“

There was a moment of silence on her end and you briefly wondered if she had even heard you. Her voice was high-pitched and she was yelling when she finally replied: “What?! Are you kidding me? I’m the best thing you’ve ever had!“

You remained calm and composed: “You’ve been avoiding me for some time now. I think I deserve better.“

She laughed: “Oh please, you’re so pathetic, y/n.“

“You’re with someone else. I know that. It was pathetic that I believed you.“

“You’ll never find someone as good as me!“, your now ex-girlfriend spat.

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted back to the picnic blanket. You realized that Mapi and Ingrid were no longer sitting there.

Gentle fingers took the phone out of your hand. You looked up to see Mapi speaking into the phone: “Oh, don’t worry. She’s got someone better now. Someone who actually appreciates her.“

Your ex-girlfriend went quiet. “Good luck with that, y/n.“, she said, her voice icy cold before hanging up.

Ingrid stood in front of you, studying your face. You were confused but also relieved. It was finally over.

“Hey, come here. You did so well.“, you felt Ingrids arms wrap around your torso. You held out one arm as an invitation for Mapi to join the hug.

The Spanish defender pressed a kiss to your temple: “You deserve this.“

There was so much you wanted to tell them but you had no words for it. So you just stood there for the moment, grateful and safe in their embrace.

Immediately after the breakup, Mapi and Ingrid started to take you out to more dates. A few months later, you were officially in a relationship with both of them.

You could have never imagined yourself in a polyamorous relationship before but the two of them made it easy. It was probably one of the healthiest relationships you had ever been in. In contrast to your previous relationship, there was no mistrust and no jealousy.

Seeing your girlfriend on the pitch in your Champions League matches agains Chelsea surprisingly did not bother you at all. Especially not, once you knocked them out of the UWCL.

As soon as the final whistle blew, Mapi jogged towards you and kissed you excitedly: “You’ve been amazing, amor!“

“My girls! We won!“, Ingrid joined the two of you.

You turned towards her to give her a celebratory kiss as well.

You could feel your exes angry stares at you but could not care less. You just booked the ticket to the UWCL final with your amazing and supportive girlfriends, there was no space in your life for her anymore.

a/n: we always appreciate comments, likes and reblogs. <3

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[risuola]

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

[marimology]

Hi just found your account, love it btw <3. Also just started One Piece after watching the One Piece Live Action, I'm so hopelessly in love with Live Action Zoro 😫

Feel free to ignore, it's just that I'm head empty with my only thought being this hc.

once zoro has you in his arms while cuddling, you've fallen into a trap that you can't escape from. Because he will fall asleep on you in five minutes and he will have a death grip around you. no matter how hard you try he just will not let you go until he wakes up. you're mad at him for holding you hostage for hours and he promises of cuddles and kisses to make up for it. too bad that you're a little slow and realize your mistake too late, and you're trapped in his arms once more

Soft zoro has me in a chokehold I- akrjakgowlngpw

am I hugging my pillow as hard as I can imagining this? yes, yes I am

WELCOME TO THE JOURNEY ANON .. y’all need to stop praising me you’ll make my ego rise ALSO WOOO 200 FOLLOWERS

opla!zoro x reader

notes : this is pirate hunter era zoro because i barely see stuff for him. i love this stinky man hope you don’t mind that it’s transmasc reader

roronoa zoro was not normally a touch starved man you both weren’t , but for some odd reason he just couldn’t let go of you . what was supposed to be a nap that you two took took together later turned into into you trying to escape from the green-haired man’s clutches.

“zoro”

silence

“zoro”

followed by more silence

“zoro let me go—“ you were cut off as he brung the hilt of one of his swords to your lips trying to shush you

“shhhh it’s sleepy time”

“roronoa zoro I swear to the gods… did you just say sleepy time?”

you were once again cut off by the snoring noises of the man beneath you , making you roll your eyes . you attempted to remove yourself from his grip once more before plopping down and giving up and crossing your arms in frustration.

“stupid marimo” you mummered as you just attempted to make yourself comfortable because when this man sleeps he likes to sleep.

after a few hours he had finally woken up placing his head on shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“afternoon” he yawned pulling you close

“sleep well?” you asked clearly annoyed crossing your arms.

“with you here? of course” he replied poking your cheeks as you playfully glared at him “m sorry want me to kiss you and give you cuddles to help” he asked as you hummed and he placed a kiss on your lips

wait a minute

“i - zoro- “

“nope too late not letting you go now”

“fuck you”

“i’ll do that later pretty boy”

[illyrianbitch]

Insatiable

Pairing: College! Reader x Frat Boy! Rhysand

Summary: There are countless reasons why you and Rhysand don’t work… but those reasons don’t seem so important when you’re tipsy in a bathroom with him inside you.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!! drunken lil tipsy sex (between two consenting adults: drink responsibly), fingering (f receiving), p in v. all the funsies

Word Count: 2.9k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You knew you were a goner when you saw him, your gaze catching his through a gap between the shifting sea of people— a gap just wide enough for your eyes to meet as he grinned, bringing a red plastic cup to his lips.

Now, your hands grasped at each other as Rhysand guided you backwards. The pulsating bass of the music followed you, echoing in your ears as you finally slipped through the door and into the relative quiet of the neon-lit bathroom. It was surprisingly clean for a frat-house. But then again, it was Rhysand’s, and he had an image to maintain. Not that any of it mattered, anyway, not as his hands snaked themselves around your waist, warm and eager to explore you.

The counter was hard against the small of your back as Rhysand pushed himself into you, your hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling at his hair as he kissed your neck. His kisses were hot and wet, soft in a way that made you weak at your knees, practically purring at his touch. Your breathless gasps filled the air, mixing with the echoing music that blared from outside of the door. 

"This is a bad idea," you murmured. But you made no move to stop. Instead, you tightened your arms around Rhys, fingers grasping at his hair. He lifted you up onto the edge of the counter, pushing your knees apart in order to slot himself in between them.

His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he murmured against your skin, "Is it?”

It was. You and Rhysand could never seem to make things work. The fire was there, the chemistry was unlike anything you've ever felt— but it never mattered. Rhysand was selfish, arrogant, and stubborn. He made stupid decisions in the name of good intentions, found no error in spending his fathers money on every whim and desire, and never knew when to leave well enough alone. But from freshman year, to sophomore, and now far into your junior year, you still found yourself in moments like this. Moments pressed up against Rhysand as you told each other that it was the last time, that it would never happen again. You shouldn’t be doing this, you told yourself. 

But as you pulled him back by his hair, locking eyes with him in the dim glow of the bathroom, any semblance of rational thought fled your mind. The red glow of the shitty LED strips pasted to the walls casted an almost sinful allure over his features, hair tousled and lips swollen. You wondered if this was how the devil looked, hauntingly beautiful as he lured people to sin.

"We can't keep doing this," you whispered, “We don’t work.”

He moved a hand to cradle your chin, his touch sending a spark of electricity that coursed through your veins. His thumb brushed against your lips. "And yet I heard you were the one looking for me?"

Your breaths were heavy, chest rising and falling with each erratic heartbeat as you looked at him.

"Maybe.”

He placed the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip, giving it a small tug. 

"I didn't throw a party just to get a maybe.”

You pulled back slightly, swallowing hard as you searched for the right words. “Did you, did you throw this party for-” 

"Yes," he answered before you could even finish the question, bringing his hand to cradle your cheek. “I did.”

Your eyes met his. There was a certain vulnerability in his features, in his furrowed brows and parted mouth, as if he was preparing himself for your answer– getting ready for, what he must have thought, was the inevitable dismissal. But no part of you felt like running away, like lying to him as you’d been lying to yourself. Your stomach tightened. 

"I was,” you confessed, “I was looking for you.”

In an instant, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a kiss that was pure heat, a firestorm of passion and longing. Even the blaring music faded from your ears as you lost yourself in Rhys’ touch, in the wetness of his mouth and the grip of his hands. There was a faint taste of some liquor on his tongue– what it was, you couldn't tell. It didn’t matter. You were sure your own lips matched the flavor, a hint of whatever was mixed into the drinks you’d taken while you attempted to convince yourself to leave. 

His hands were everywhere, one at the base of your neck, pulling you closer with a possessiveness that made you pool at your core, while the other now gripped your ass, fingers digging into the fabric of your tight black dress. The dress you’d worn just for him. You moaned into his mouth as your body responded instinctively to his touch, arching against him, begging to get closer, to feel every inch of him against you. 

His lips trailed along your jawline, leaving a searing trail of fire in their wake as you tilted your head back, offering yourself up to him completely. Your breathing was ragged, each exhale coming out as desperate pleas that had Rhysand’s cock stirring in his pants. 

With a swift, almost impatient motion, Rhys pushed the fabric of your tight black dress up your thighs, pulling you forward as his hand grabbed a handful of your ass. You gasped into his mouth, fingers tightening on the fabric of his shirt as you leaned into his touch. You welcomed the warmth that rippled through your body, the sense of arousal that you felt drenched in. 

"Tell me you wore this just for me," he murmured against your lips.

Your heart leapt, a nervousness now filling your veins. 

"Shut up," you managed breathlessly, your response drowned out by another searing kiss that left you reeling, pawing at him like an animal in heat. 

You could feel it, the smirk that now played on his lips, no doubt relishing in the effect he had on you— the effect he always had. If it was another time, another night, you would’ve been embarrassed, maybe felt the need to gain control. But it wasn’t any other night. It was tonight, and tonight you wanted Rhysand.

A low, guttural moan escaped your lips as his touch grew bolder, his hand dipping between your legs, the heat of his touch setting every inch of your skin ablaze. You arched against him, seeking more, craving the intoxicating pleasure that you both knew only he could provide. Rhys, your body seemed to scream, touch me, feel me, fill me. 

You pulled him closer, your hands trailing down his chest as you sought to feel every inch of him against you. You reached forward, hands trembling as you fumbled with his belt. The sound of the metal clinking against the buckle was drowned out by sounds that filled the room– your harsh breaths and the bass of the music pounding against the walls. 

He grinned against your lips, his touch hot against your skin as he began to pull your dress up further, exposing the bare skin beneath. With a soft gasp, you pushed yourself farther against him, body trembling with need as his fingers traced along your soaked core. 

Rhys groaned as he pushed his hand in the front of your underwear, the material stretching out over the back of his hand as he used two fingers to spread you. You whined as he dipped a finger lower and pushed it inside of you. 

Your body immediately clenched down around it, cunt pulsing as you gasped his name, lifting your hips in response. He kissed you as he brought a second finger into your soaked core, the sound of your moan swallowed by his mouth on yours. You were grasping at him, hands in his hair, on his shoulders, everywhere you could reach. 

Rhysand’s lips found your neck next, nose running along your smooth skin. He peckered kisses in a small trail, stopping to give a harsh suck that had you murmuring his name once more. 

With each curl of his fingers, the coil in your stomach tightened, a deep sense of urgency in your body growing, a need to feel him even more. "Please," you gasped, your voice a broken and desperate plea.

“Please what?" he teased, voice husky with desire as he brought his fingers deeper inside you with each stroke.

"Fuck me.”

Rhysand maintained his rhythm, the heel of his palm brushing against your sensitive clit as he brought his fingers in and out of you.  "Patience, gorgeous," he murmured into your ear, “I’m getting there.”

But you didn’t want to fall apart like this, not on his hands. You wanted to feel him inside you, feel him stretching you out with every roll of his hips, feel him come undone with you– inside you. 

"Well get there faster.”

Rhysand pulled back slightly, hands still buried inside you, fingers coated in your slick essence. "What's the rush, huh?" he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as he gazed down at you.

You squirmed beneath him, an ache for release burning deep within you. "I don't want to finish on your hands.”

A smirk played at the corners of his lips as he withdrew his hands, leaving you feeling empty and achingly needy. "As you wish," he conceded, as he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

The sight of him licking his fingers clean sent a surge of arousal coursing through you, and you reached forward. Your hands fumbled with his pants, eager to feel him against you, and with a swift motion, he pushed them down with underwear, his cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, at the desire to taste him and feel him everywhere. God you missed this, you missed him.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the counter and began teasing you with his length, holding it in his hand as he rubbed it against your folds with maddening slowness, coating the tip of his cock in your wetness. You whimpered in frustration.

"Rhys.”

He grinned against your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a wave of heat through your body. "Yes, darling?" 

“Please.” You bit your lip, the sensation of his touch clouding your thoughts, mind hazy with a desire that consumed you.  "I need you.”

His movements stilled for a moment, his gaze locking with yours. "Then you shall have me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself inside you. You choked on a moan, head dropping forward to rest on his shoulder, fingers clutching at his shirt. 

"You’re fucking divine," Rhysand murmured, his voice low and husky as he began to move. "Gods, I've missed this."

You nodded against him, unable to form coherent words as waves of electricity washed over you. Rhysand grunted as he increased the rhythm of his movements, each thrust desperate and passionate.

“Haven’t you missed this, too? Me inside you?”

You pulled him into a deep kiss, feeling his tongue against yours. “Yes,” you whimpered against his mouth, one hand holding his jaw as the other clawed at his bicep. Your voice was barely a breath, barely audible between the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

Rhys leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours as you both panted. He looked at you through dark lashes, pupils blown wide as he murmured, “Does anyone else make you feel this way?” 

You met his gaze, hands holding onto him as he bucked his hips up into you, feeling the way your cunt massaged his cock from inside. You clenched around him, breathing heavy.

“No.”

No one, ever. And it wasn't for a lack of trying. You’d tried hard, tried your absolute best to get Rhysand out of your system. But no one ever compared. The prick was in your bloodstream, in the air that you breathed. You craved him. Even now, as he fucked you, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. 

Rhysand pulled out for a moment before he pulled you off the counter and flipped you around, repositioning you so that he could enter you from behind. He guided himself inside you once again, gripping onto your hips, the bunched fabric of your rolled up dress above his knuckles. 

You arched your back as every snap of Rhysand’s pushed you further onto the counter, closer to the mirror. Your hands desperately searched for something to grab onto as he fucked into you– one hand gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles, the other reaching back to lightly brush Rhys’.

With every snap of his hips, a new wave of pleasure rolled through your body, the sensation of him filling you from this new angle making you feel fuzzy and weak. You met his gaze in the mirror, watching as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your bare shoulder. And then his lips were hovering over your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your neck.

“Does this feel like we don’t work?”

You couldn't answer, couldn’t bring your mouth to move as he held your stare. Your body quivered with each movement, every sensation heightened by the reflection of him fucking you from behind. Rhys moved faster and harder, his hands reaching around to push the flimsy straps of your dress down, exposing your bare front to the cool air of the bathroom. Your nipples peaked instantly, and with a possessive grip, Rhys pulled you up against his chest, one gripping your breast as he claimed you as his own.

"Because it feels like we were made for each other," he breathed against your skin. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open in bliss as he pushed into you, the warmth of him against your back strong and commanding. 

"Rhys," you moaned as he continued to drive you towards the edge of your release. With each movement, each touch, he pushed you closer and closer, a tight coil in the pit of your stomach slowly unraveling. 

And then, with a swift motion, he moved a hand from your hip to circle your clit, sending waves of white-hot pleasure rippling through your body. You felt him everywhere, his cock inside you, his hands gripping your body. 

Your breath caught in your throat as he locked eyes with you once more in the mirror, his eyes burning with raw desire. 

"You're perfect," he said, his words almost reverent, gentle like a prayer falling from his lips. Your heart clenched at his words, now pounding fast in your chest, a fluttering sensation in your ribs. “You look so beautiful like this.”

With one final snap, you felt the tension within you reach its breaking point, pleasure washing over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Your cunt clenched around him, the sensation driving him over the edge with one last harsh snap, his release echoing yours with a loud moan that had his head falling onto your shoulders. 

It took a few moments for you both to catch your breath once more, Rhysand pulling out gently, making sure to keep his hold on your trembling legs. His movements were careful, almost tender, as he helped you clean up.

Turning to face him, you found yourself lost in his gaze. You knew that your hair mussed and your makeup was smudged, both things you’d noted as you watched him fuck you, but didn’t quite acknowledge until now. With a soft smile, Rhysand reached out and brushed the skin around your lips with his thumb, wiping a small streak of your lipstick.

"Beautiful," he said, his words a whispered caress that had you blushing and looking down.

He brought you into a sweet, small kiss, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that had your heart fluttering. "You should get back to your party," you whispered.

"I should.”

Rhysand’s hand dropped from your face, your skin now feeling cold and empty, already begging to be touched by him once more. He paused, his eyes searching your face for a moment. 

"Guessing this is the last time?" 

You stilled, breathless and nervous, knowing deep down that it should be the last time. But the truth was undeniable, your heart was hammering in your chest and there was already a new wetness pooling at your core at the thought of him before you. You wanted to kiss him, to hold his hand, to lose yourself in the intoxicating heat of his touch over and over again. 

"It should be." You reached to readjust your straps, a feeble attempt to conceal the uncertainty that coated your words. 

Rhys narrowed his eyes for a moment, his expression unreadable, before a small grin spread across his lips. "You know where to find me. I’ll be waiting.”

As he opened the door, the sounds of the party flooded back into the room, the thumping bass reverberating through your bones. You cringed at the sudden smells and sounds that were now filling your senses. Turning back to you, Rhysand met your eyes one last time. 

"You're always worth the wait.”

Despite how low his voice was, you heard him in perfect clarity, the words echoing in your ears long after he disappeared into the pulsating chaos of the party. 

Taking one last look around the red- lit bathroom, you gathered your resolve, pushing aside the fluttering sensation in your chest as you straightened your dress and adjusted your hair, setting out to find your friends.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

college bat boys and frat boy rhysand is something i think about daily 💋

i’m in such a writing rut so enjoy this lil one shot that i think is ASS 🧎🏻‍♀️ but it’s okay we ball.

MWUAH

[ninzied]

green things

alex kisses henry to make another guy jealous. that’s it. no other reason. based on a prompt for @onthewaytosomewhere. modern au. 1.9k.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Pez remarks, halfway through one of the worst house parties Alex has been to in his life. Seriously; he’s been to so many, and none of the others even compare. “Something on your mind?”

Yes. “No.” Alex takes a sip of his drink and goes casually back to not looking at Henry.

He’s kind of not really been okay-totally-watching-them all night, and it’s fine. It’s fine, because it doesn’t matter who Henry talks to, what matters is that he looks happy, and animated, and hasn’t stopped smiling.

He hasn’t stopped smiling all night.

“Hey, so, who’s the guy?” Alex asks.

Pez glances over. “Ah—yes, that’s a visiting prof in Henry’s department. Hazza talks about him quite a lot, actually.”

Alex grits his teeth so hard he’s surprised that none of them crack. “Does he.” He refrains from adding under his breath, Well, I’ve never heard of him.

“All the time, as a matter of fact,” Pez continues. He doesn’t even sound like he’s had to exaggerate. “And with good reason. It’s not even that he’s easy on the eyes, though there is that too. He’s already accomplished so much in the field despite being our age, from what I understand.”

“I see,” Alex says as neutrally as possible. He’s starting to see a lot from where he’s standing, actually, and he doesn’t like it. Like, at all.

Pez raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “Do I spy something green?”

“No,” Alex says quickly, too quickly this time. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“Well, if you say so.” Pez pops an hors d’oeuvre in his mouth and chews, surveying the room like it’s his own private theatre. Like he’s waiting for something. Like he has a vision. It’s both impressive and disconcerting to see.

As if on cue, someone comes up to Mister Accomplished and claps a hand on his stupid-broad shoulder, drawing his attention away. He flashes Henry a grin—one that’s way too white and with too many teeth, in Alex’s opinion—before walking off and leaving Henry alone in the corner.

Henry, who’s no longer smiling as he closes his eyes and sags at the shoulders. He tilts his glass back and drinks.

Well, fuck. Alex can’t even be glad anymore that the guy has just left because now he wants to punch him for it.

“Douchebag much?” he mutters under his breath.

“Oh, most excellent,” Pez is saying at the same time. “Couldn’t have planned the thing better myself.” He clears his throat, all business-like all of a sudden. “It appears that our poppet is in need of assistance. Are you up to the task, Alexander?”

“Wait.” But Alex finds himself getting pulled along by the sheer force of Pez’s will before he’s even finished speaking. “What task, exactly?”

Pez looks two seconds away from rubbing his hands together like some kind of cartoon villain. “Nothing like making a man jealous to finally spur him into action.”

Alex sputters; didn’t he just say that he wasn’t—? But then he catches the pointed look Pez gives Mister Accomplished again. Oh. That guy. Then: “Wait, that guy?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it,” says Pez.

Alex makes a wild gesture. “You want me to make that guy jealous. Fucking how?”

Pez lets out a long-suffering sigh. “The fact that I must spell it out for you really does explain a lot, actually.”

“A lot about what?”

“One kiss ought to do it, I think,” Pez muses, almost to himself.

Alex swallows. Flirting with Henry every day like he does is one thing. Harmless, mostly, unless you count feeling heartsick that Henry never looks at him the same way.

What Pez is suggesting, though, may be the thing that tips Alex fully over into heartbreak territory.

“I don’t, um.” He clears his throat and glances toward Henry, who’s gazing into his now-empty glass. “What makes you think he’ll be down with this plan?”

“Absolutely nothing, he would never. Which is why we must be quick about it.”

“But,” Alex starts to protest.

“Alex.” Pez says his name like he’s scolding a child who’s being too selfish. “Don’t you want to see Henry happy?”

“More than anything,” says Alex, too honestly. Fuck.

“Then trust me on this,” says Pez, in the voice of a person who’s not to be trusted at all, before opening his arms wide and beaming. “Hazza, darling.”

“Oh, thank God,” says Henry, glancing up as they approach. “I need another one of whatever this was.”

“I have a better idea,” Pez sing-songs, then looks askance at Alex. “Unless, of course, someone’s getting cold feet. I can always ask if dear old Hunter’s available, I think I saw him by the—”

“No, I’ll do it,” Alex says instantly. “I’ll take one for the team.”

“Yes, a big sacrifice on your part,” Pez murmurs, and Alex shoots him a sharp little glare. Henry scrunches his brow, looking between the two of them in something like concerned confusion.

“Alex? What’s going on?” he prompts carefully as Alex marches up to him, taking a breath. He’s determined to do this for Henry, no matter the cost to himself.

“All right. I’m ready,” Alex says solemnly. “Lay it on me, Fox.”

“Sorry,” says Henry, “I still have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“Babe,” and Alex takes Henry’s face in his hands, “Don’t even worry. I’m here to make all your dreams come true.”

Henry stands frozen as Alex presses their mouths firmly together. There’s a second that lasts half a lifetime in which Alex thinks he’s made a terrible mistake.

And then Henry’s lips soften—wow, fuck, they are really soft, actually—and then he’s kissing Alex back and so hard that Alex stagger-steps, almost knocking a chair over as he pulls Henry even closer.

He tries not to totally lose it when he feels Henry’s fingers thread through his hair, or the hitch in Henry’s breath when their lips part and their tongues meet.

It occurs to him that they probably shouldn’t be kissing like this while surrounded by all their work colleagues. Alex doesn’t really care. All he cares about is how devastated he’ll be once it’s over.

Henry is the first to pull back. He’s breathless and smiling, and Alex’s heart hurts like fucking hell but this is what he wanted, right? To see Henry this happy?

Alex puts his hands on Henry’s waist, which, fuck, he shouldn’t have done that; now he thinks he might never let go. His breath comes up short as he gasps into the space between them, “Is he watching?”

Henry blinks. His smile falters a little. “Is who watching, Alex?”

“The guy you were talking to. I was trying to make him jealous.” Alex can’t bring himself to see if he’s noticed. Alex thinks he would rather die than look away from Henry right now. All he wants is to kiss him again even though he probably shouldn’t. “Do you think it worked? Henry?”

Henry has gone very still in his arms. The expression on his face is glazed over, distant. “That’s why you kissed me? To make someone jealous?”

Fuck, they really should’ve talked about this first. Fuck. “Yeah?” Alex winces.

“That man specifically? I didn’t even know you two were acquainted.” Henry heaves out a breath, looking strangely like he might be sick. “So you—you like him, then?”

“What? No, of course I don’t like him. I don’t even know him,” says Alex. Henry isn’t making any sense. “I thought you liked him.” Unless…shit. Unless Henry just doesn’t want them both liking the same guy?

Henry just stares at him for a long time. He’s looking kind of like Alex is the one who’s lost it. “You what?” Henry says finally.

“I thought you liked him,” Alex repeats, but this time it comes out as more of a question.

“You thought I liked him,” Henry says for emphasis. “That man.” Like there’s some other guy Alex could possibly be talking about right now.

“Apparently,” says Alex. He realizes he’s clutched the sides of Henry’s shirt and wills his fingers to loosen a little. It feels like some kind of miracle that Henry hasn’t shoved him away yet. “And then you looked so sad when he went to talk to other people, and I thought, I don’t know, that I’d help? Pez said you talk about him all the time, so…” Wait. Wait a minute.

Henry breathes out. Something solidifies in his expression, like he’s just worked through a math problem of his own. “Hmm,” he says in a weirdly calm tone. “Did he, now.”

“Yeah,” Alex says slowly. “He…” What else was it that Pez had said? Nothing like making a man jealous to finally…

Wow. Okay. Well-played, Okonjo.

“I see.” Henry looks pointedly around for Pez, who’s conveniently nowhere in sight at the moment. “Percy didn’t also happen to mention the fact that the man’s an absolute bellend who’s been gatekeeping my department’s research funding? That I’m thus woefully obligated to kiss the ground he walks on at parties?”

Ah. “He…did not,” Alex allows. “So, just to be clear, you don’t? Like him?”

“Christ, no,” Henry says firmly, and Alex feels something light in his chest flutter and try to take flight.

“Anyway,” Henry goes on, looking all sober now for some reason, “I ought to apologize on Pez’s behalf. He really was only trying to help, in his way. He knows how I feel about—well.” He flushes. “And I’m sorry, too, for kissing you like that. I was under a very different impression as to what it, um. Actually meant.”

“Yeah, hold up.” Alex straightens. “You kissed me back.” Henry looks cautiously on as Alex starts smiling and can’t seem to stop. “You had no idea and you still kissed me back.”

Henry goes a shade pinker each time Alex says the words. “Yes, well,” Henry says faintly. “I believe what you said was something about making all my dreams come true? Which I did take at face value.”

Alex tightens his hold on Henry again. Definitely not letting him go after that. “Henry,” he says. “You’re my fucking dream, are you kidding?”

“I—” Henry gazes at him. His smile is soft with something like wonder. “You’re serious?”

“How do you think Pez got to me?” Alex wants to know. “Do you have any idea how jealous I was of that guy when I thought you were into him?”

“Mm.” Henry tilts his head. “Yet you kissed me fully believing that it would, what, drive him so mad that he’d throw himself into my arms?”

“I did.” Alex takes both of Henry’s hands into his. “I want you. Henry. But I think I want you so much that the only thing I want more is for you to be happy.”

Henry’s eyes are bright and so very, very blue. “And if I told you that they’re one and the same?”

Alex is smiling so hard that it hurts. He never wants to stop feeling like this. “Then I guess that guy can be jealous all he wants,” Alex shrugs, bringing Henry’s hands up to his shoulders. “Because he can’t have your arms now, they’re mine.”

“Noted,” says Henry, mock-seriously. “Anything else you wish to claim while you’re at it?”

“Actually,” says Alex, “yeah, just so we’re clear,” and he pulls Henry back in for a kiss.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Switching it Up (M)

Summary:

Y/n decides that she wants to try domming Jeonghan.

A bonus episode… Ova? haha to The Pathetic Series but it can be read as a one-shot!

Warnings: Pure smut, uhm haha ball sucking, BALLS, cunninlingus, blow job, hand job, domish!yn, dom!jeonghan, mean!jeonghan, rough sex, switch!yn I guess, bondage :), creampie, cum everywhere, spitting kink?, lots of teasing

-

“Jeonghan… You love me, right?”

Jeonghan sent a slightly raised eyebrow in your direction. It didn’t take a genius to see that Jeonghan was both confused and amused by the question. He let you sit with the question for a little bit and that reaction in itself was enough to make you squirm… And enough to make you question if you should even be asking what you were about to ask.

You just couldn’t get it out of your head. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how often Jeonghan fucked your brains out you couldn’t stop thinking about his question: Do you think you could ever dom me.

The question had made your body burn even hotter than it already had been and his reasoning behind why you couldn’t- hell the way that he had to answer for you- was telling enough: You couldn’t you need me to tell you exactly what you want.

But the passing thought in your head about the fact that Jeonghan was right wasn’t nearly strong enough to completely push down the tiny thought in your head that said… Well…

“Of course, I love you,” Jeonghan finally said, dragging you from your thoughts. “You know I love you.” He let you sit like that for a few moments, staring you down until you mumbled a soft: “I love you too,” right back.

You let silence fill the air. Maybe you were stupid for wanting to ask Jeonghan this question. Stupid to even want to try and…

“Y/n, love, what do you want?” He asked you, once again interrupting your thoughts. You turned away from him, but his eyes bore into the side of your head. You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling just as emotionally vulnerable as you felt when expressing your love for Jeonghan.

“I… Uh… Well…” God you sounded like an idiot. You screwed your eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath before looking back over at him. “I want to try and dom you.”

Jeonghan’s response was embarrassingly fast. And was embarrassingly a small laugh.

“You want to try and dom me?” He asked you lightly, his face immediately morphing slightly apologetic at having immediately laughed at you. “Sorry, I just… Really?”

Your face burned at the question.

“Yes really,” you replied. “I mean… Haven’t you ever thought about it before? Don’t you think it would be… Fun?”

“Well, it would certainly be different,” Jeonghan agreed, thinking over your words like they were a sort of equation.

“You’ve never been dommed before?” You asked him softly. Maybe… A little over eagerly. He snickered.

“Why don’t you think about that question for a little bit,” Jeonghan prodded, and the grin on his face was enough to bring you to the correct conclusion. You rolled your eyes slightly.

“It was a fair question,” you insisted. “I don’t know what your history is like… Necessarily.”

Another skeptical sound came from Jeonghan.

“Well, I’ve dommed before,” you said, with a small shrug. “It’s not that hard. I think that I could do it again.”

“But that’s not quite the question… Is it?” Jeonghan asked.

No, that wasn’t the question. The question wasn’t whether Jeonghan had subbed before, or if you had dommed before. The question was whether or not you would be able to dom Jeonghan. You sat there in silence for a little bit, deciding that right now wasn’t the perfect time to think about that.

“You would need a safe word,” you pointed out. Jeonghan’s smile didn’t fade; he let his bottom lip jut out a little in thought.

“I suppose I would,” he agreed. He leaned close to you, letting his head dip so that his forehead almost brushed yours. “Are you going to give me one? If I remember right, I gave you yours.”

Distantly you recalled that night. Faint memories of a loud party and you two walking quickly up the stairs of Jeonghan’s frat house.

“But…” You trailed off, biting your bottom lip when you realized that you were about to say that you didn’t know what to suggest, and that he should just pick one himself. Why the fuck were you always so submissive around him? “Okay. Easy.”

Jeonghan tried to distract you, his head ducking a little bit so that his nose brushed your chin. You tilted your head up for him without even really thinking about it, and you only noticed the way that you were giving him such easy access because of the little laugh that left his mouth once his lips were pressed to your neck.

A frustrated look pressed into your lips, and you placed the palm of your head, pressing his head back. You gave him a stern look and said the safe word that you had settled on.

Jeonghan seemed amused by your choice.

“Really? You sure about that?” He asked you, his voice slightly heightened. Your face reddened, but you decided not to back down.

“Repeat it,” you said. Jeonghan’s eyebrow rose again.

“Sorry?”

“Repeat it,” you replied, this time more firmly. “I want to make sure that you know it.”

Jeonghan hummed, doing as you wished. As he repeated the word, you got up onto his lap, suddenly grateful for the fact that he had been lazy and was still wearing his clothes from his internship earlier. Your fingers came to the collar of his shirt, fingers trailing down to catch the soft fabric of his loosened tie.

Jeonghan watched you, carefully, silently while you began to undo the knot with your fingers. Once you got it completely loosened you tugged at the ends, forcing Jeonghan’s face closer to yours.

Jeonghan’s eyes darkened a little bit at the close proximity, and while normally the expression made you want to submit instantly, you fought it in yourself to stay composed. You gave him a smile.

“What do you think now?” You asked him softly. You leaned forward as if you were going to kiss him, and when he tilted his head up to catch your lips you pulled away, pouting mockingly at him. “You still think I can’t dom you?”

Jeonghan’s face reddened a little bit.

“I don’t know if this is so much you domming,” Jeonghan grumbled. “You’re coming off more like a brat.”

You hummed at his denial, but regardless pulled his face closer to yours again with a tug of the back of his tie. You dragged him into a deep kiss, keeping Jeonghan pressed firmly against you as you began to roll your hips down on his hardening bulge.

You forced your tongue into Jeonghan’s mouth, and as you fought for control of the kiss, Jeonghan’s hands came to your hips. You pulled away, tutting at him.

“No touching,” you chided lightly. “I never told you that you were allowed to touch me.”

Jeonghan let out a slightly frustrated sigh but raised his hands into the air defensively.

“You really expect me-”

As Jeonghan spoke you quickly grabbed his hands, thrusting them behind his back, trapping his wrists and quickly tying his tie around them. You had never tied something faster, or tighter knowing that if you tied it too loosely it would be too easy for Jeonghan to get out.

Jeonghan gave you a partially unamused expression at the state of his now tied hands.

“Really?” He asked.

“Well, unlike me I can’t really trust you to be obedient and just listen.”

That dragged a chuckle out of Jeonghan and so you dipped your head, your fingers coming back to his button-up. You slowly began to kiss down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you went. You could feel the tension in Jeonghan’s body as you moved down, surely at the inability to touch you. You laughed against him, suddenly understanding what he found amusing about having complete control over you.

Once you finally got down to Jeonghan’s waist you began to unbutton Jeonghan’s pants, humming lightly once you had pulled his dick out of his pants.

“This is so exciting,” you said pleasantly, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and giving it a small tug. The action brought a low moan from out of Jeonghan’s lips. “Finally, I have a say on when you get to come.”

You let one of your hands raise to your mouth as you spit in it, noticing the way that it made Jeonghan’s adams apple bob in his throat. You smiled sweetly at him and used your now spit covered hand to wrap around his cock, slowly, teasingly beginning to pump his cock.

“What do you think Jeonghan?” You asked him. “Do you think that I should edge you? The way that you’ve become so fond of doing to me?”

Jeonghan had you fixed under a very stern watchful gaze that you couldn’t really interpret. You tried to keep your facial expression even as well, but instead the pit of your stomach was burning at the fact that you were in so much control of the situation.

“Or should I overstimulate you?” You continued to ask. “Make you come again, and again, and again.”

Jeonghan shuffled his shoulders, as if to try and shimmy out of the tie, and it dragged a smile over your lips.

“I think we have a winner,” you said lightly. You placed one of your hands on the head rest just by Jeonghan’s neck, and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to Jeonghan’s.

Again, you fought for control over the kiss, finding it quite easy to catch him off-guard by brushing Jeonghan’s tip with your thumb with each thrust of your hand. It wasn’t long before you had Jeonghan panting against your lips, his head pressing back against the headboard.

“Aw, look at you baby,” you teased, pulling your head back a little bit. “Are you close, Jeonghan? Are you liking this?”

You wondered what Jeonghan enjoyed the most when it came to being dommed. You didn’t imagine he would be quite as into being degraded as you. Jeonghan didn’t speak to you even as you addressed him so you tightened your grip on his cock, giving it a rougher tug than you had been before.

“Jeonghan. I asked you a question, and I expect an answer,” you mumbled. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Ye-Yes,” he got out, and your smile only grew. “I’m re-really close y/n.”

You practically purred.

“Good boy,” you praised, and a low moan left his lips. Ah, so he had a praise kink. “If you’re liking it so much, why don’t you come for me huh?”

As you spoke, Jeonghan’s eyes were still closed. You grew closer to Jeonghan, pressing your lips to his in a brief kiss in order to force his eyes open.

“I expect you to keep your eyes on me,” you said. “I want to see what you look like when you come from being dommed by me.”

Another frustrated sound left Jeonghan’s lips, but you shushed him lightly.

“It’s okay Jeonghan. Want you to just lean back and let yourself enjoy it,” you said softly. “Why don’t you be good and just enjoy it huh?”

Another frustrated sound left his lips, but even as he made it you could feel his cock beginning to dribble cum all over your slick hands.

“That’s right… My good boy. Cum for me, won’t you?” You prodded, and it was enough for Jeonghan to thump his head back again, weakly pumping his hips up as he spurted cum all over your hand and the bottom of his botton up.

You sighed lightly.

“What a mess,” you mumbled. You felt Jeonghan’s eyes on you as you raised your soaked fingers up to your mouth. You smiled sweetly at him and made a show of licking your fingers clean for him. Jeonghan’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and you pretended to accidentally leave a bit of his cum on your bottom lip, enjoying the way it made him squirm.

“I guess someone will have to clean you up since you are currently being so good for me and keeping your hands off.”

You lowered yourself once again to Jeonghan’s cock, licking first the cum off of Jeonghan’s thighs. You waited until you noticed Jeonghan’s cock hardening again before you wrapped your hand around the base again, pushing it aside so that you could clean the cum off of his balls.

As soon as you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, Jeonghan let out a loud moan, and you felt him moving again, trying to get his hands free. You chuckled a little.

“And here I thought I was the only one who got this desperate,” you teased, pressing your nose against the base of his cock. You laughed lightly as his cock twitched against your face and a little bit of his cum got on your forehead.

“Can you come again just from the stimulation of me sucking your balls?” You asked him. You dipped your head again and Jeonghan groaned again.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice growing a bit higher, and desperate. You ignored him, and instead tilted his cock in a way so that you could more easily tease his balls.

“Y/n, I’m g-gonna-” Before he could finish you felt more cum splattering all over your hands and your forehead. You let out a small whine, making Jeonghan’s head fall forward.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

You laughed and pulled away from him, once again sucking your cum soaked fingers into your mouth.

“You’re so easy to come undone. Is that because you’re just so sensitive?” You asked him teasingly.

“Y/n,” he said, and again he had a warning tone. “Untie me.”

“Do you need to safe word?” You asked him. Jeonghan’s expression looked almost pained.

“Y/n.”

His tone made you want to do what he wanted but you reminded yourself that you were the one in control.

“Jeonghan this is making me feel so desperate,” you mumbled, deciding to test his patient. You crawled away from him, and shimmied yourself out of your clothes, leaving nothing but your shirt still on, your tits straining against the cloth.

You leaned back on one of your hands and spread your knees just enough to get your other hand between your thighs. You whined dramatically as your fingers brushed against your clit which you hadn’t even realized was that desperate for attention. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you got distracted for a moment, soft little whines and moans leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit in small circles.

After a minute you remembered where you were and what you were doing and you dipped your fingers even lower.

“Do you want to see how wet I am?” You asked, and you could see the eagerness in his eyes. You smiled. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” Jeonghan got out, and his tone was breathy. “I hope you’re having your fun y/n.”

You raised your wet fingers in front of Jeonghan and leaned forward, pressing two wet fingers to his lips and into his mouth.

His eyes were on you as he sucked the wetness off of your fingers as if that was what he was made to do. You smiled, and once you had pulled your fingers out of his mouth you patted his cheek.

“So good for me,” you said pleasantly. “I am having loads of fun.”

You settled back again, this time letting your legs spread a bit wider so that he could see as you dipped a finger into your wet pussy. You whined at the touch, your body burned for attention, your thighs shaking a little bit from just how turned on you were. You wanted so badly to just untie Jeonghan and let him fuck you, but you knew that even if you did untie him, you would probably be able to come a lot faster on your own terms.

Your punishment for today was surely brewing in Jeonghan’s mind, and the anticipation of what it would be was a bit terrifying.

… And also a bit thrilling.

You pressed a second finger into yourself, feeling yourself get a little desperate. You didn’t care so much about teasing Jeonghan this way, playing with yourself for him to see, even though, you were enjoying the way that he was squirming against his tie, trying to get himself free in order to touch you.

You were a bit pleased with yourself. How had you managed to tie him up so well?

“My fingers feel so good,” you whined softly. “But I bet yours feels even better…. Are you good? Good enough for me to untie you and let you finger me?”

You both knew the answer, so you sighed.

“I know…” You said, resigned. “But I bet you’re good enough to eat me out, aren’t you?” You grabbed Jeonghan by the collar of his shirt and you tugged him to the edge of the bed. He let you lead him down to the floor, on his knees at the foot of the bed. You let your hands cup his cheeks, giving him a small kiss before dragging your hands up to clasp into his hair.

You shyly spread your legs so that Jeonghan had access. He looked mesmerized by the sight of you. He leaned forward, but you tightened your grip in his hair.

“Nu-uh,” you chided lightly. “You have to ask nicely.”

Jeonghan groaned out in frustration.

“I am not going to ask-”

“Then I will just make myself come myself,” you said in the same tone. You used your free hand to your pussy, once again beginning to rub your clit in circles. This time you were not trying to tease him. You were trying to make him think that you really were about to make yourself come in front of him, not letting him do anything to help.

Jeonghan struggled a bit against you, but you ignored him, chasing the feeling in your gut as it coiled in you, your body growing warmer-

“Please,” Jeonghan bit out desperately. “Please let me help.”

Your fingers paused, and you smiled down at him.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you murmured. You released his hair and Jeonghan pressed forward immediately capturing your clit with his mouth. You let out a loud moan at his touch, your hand falling to just pet his head as he ate you out like his life depended on it. It wasn’t long before Jeonghan was dragging an orgasm out of you, your thighs shaking as you came. Jeonghan let you ride through the whole orgasm and pressed forward more once your shaking stopped, trying to coax you into let him eat you out more but you quickly tightened your hand in his hair and pulled him back.

“Th-That’s-” You tried your best to catch your breath while still holding him away from you. “That’s enough.”

“Untie me,” Jeonghan said firmly. You smiled back at him.

“Not until I ride you.”

You dragged Jeonghan up by his hair, until he let you put him back up on the bed, his back against the headstand again. You climbed onto his lap, grabbing the base of his cock so that you could teasingly rub it between your folds.

“Y/n-” Jeonghan bucked his hips up desperately towards you, trying to bury his cock inside of you. You raised your hips so that he wasn’t able to.

“What do you say?” You asked him. He groaned but this time there was no hesitation.

“Please.”

You lowered yourself down on Jeonghan’s cock and just as you had gotten down to the base, steadying yourself with both of your hands on his shoulders he had bucked up into you. You dropped your head on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“B-Be good,” you warned him, but despite that warning Jeonghan thrusted up into you again. You gasped, your fingers tightening on Jeonghan’s shoulders. “I- F-fuck, Je-Jeonghan.”

Suddenly, your shirt was being pulled off of your body. You were confused by at the loss of the shirt, but you were made aware of how when you felt Jeonghan’s warm hands on your hips.

“J-Jeonghan, w-wait,” you blurted, but before you could say more you were flipped onto the bed. Jeonghan wrapped his free hand around the base of your neck, squeezing at you lightly.

“Look at you, tried so hard to be in control, didn’t you?” Jeonghan asked. A whimper ripped from your throat, and you reached up, grabbing Jeonghan’s biceps again desperately.

“Y-You’re b-being bad,” you tried to get out, trying to convince Jeonghan that you were still in control. Jeonghan laughed, his thumb pressing into the dip of your throat, causing you to gasp for air, as Jeonghan began to fuck you hard and fast.

“I’m being bad?” Jeonghan asked. “I think we both know who is really being bad.”

You gave up trying to regain control of the situation. Instead resigning to just succumbing to his touch. You couldn’t think of what to say except blurting out a quick. “I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan laughed, and the sound went right down to your core.

“Since you seem to have forgotten,” Jeonghan said, his voice gruff. “This is what you were made for. Taking my cock. Being under my control. I get to decide when you come. I get to decide how you take my cock. I get to decide if you even breathe.”

Jeonghan’s fingers tightened around your neck, momentarily cutting off your ability to breathe. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as pleasure thumped dumbly through your head. God, you were so desperate to come. Desperate all over again to be good.

Jeonghan’s grip on your throat loosened and you gasped out for air.

“Please, I’m sorry,” you bit out. “I’m sorry, you’re right, you’re in control.”

Jeonghan laughed humorlessly, but as he did, you felt his cock twitching inside of you as he began to unload himself inside of you. You cried out at the sudden feeling of being pumped full of hot cum but that didn’t make Jeonghan stop.

“You wanted to see how many times you could make me cum?” Jeonghan asked you. You whimpered as Jeonghan tightened his grip on your neck again. “Well, as a contrast, you don’t get to.”

He slipped his cock out of you, watching you as you wiggled at the lose of his cock, your body desperate to keep getting fucked, but instead you were forced to feel Jeonghan’s cum start to drip out of you.

“You want to touch yourself?” He asked you. “Then go ahead and touch yourself.”

You desperately tried to find your clit, but as soon as you found it Jeonghan’s grip on your throat tightened. You began to rub your clit and as soon as you did you were allowed to breathe again. Tears of frustration dripped down the sides of your head.

“Don’t want to touch myself,” you bit out stubbornly, but that stubbornness was rewarded by your air being taken away from you again.

It was embarrassing how that made you rub your clit harder, which made Jeonghan loosen his grip on you, presumably because you were doing what he wanted you to.

“I’m sorry Jeonghan, let me come… Please fuck me, pl-please.”

“Oh, you can come all you want.”

Jeonghan pulled back a little and began to stroke his cock above you, just watching as you cried and played with your clit, completely and utterly desperate for his touch. His expression was unwavering, unapologetic, and unsympathetic.

“Go on y/n, you wanted to be in control? Well, you have complete control on making yourself come,” he taunted. You couldn’t help but hic as you touched yourself, but the sight was clearly appealing to Jeonghan because you found yourself being splattered in cum before you even had the chance to pull yourself to your orgasm. You whimpered, and finally pushed yourself over that edge just at the feeling of Jeonghan’s cum splattering against your skin, but just as you did that your hand was ripped away from you, leaving you shaking, your hips rolling up in the air, desperate for the touch of anything as you came. Instead Jeonghan hit your clit sharply and you sobbed out, desperately reaching for Jeonghan.

“Pl-Please, I’m s-sorry.”

As you cried Jeonghan wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours, his lips dragging yours into a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, happy to give him control of the kiss, desperate to keep yourself against him.

Jeonghan waited until you had stopped shaking to break the kiss. He pressed his lips gently to your cheeks, as if to kiss away your tears. He gave you a soft smile.

“Hey,” he said. You pouted at him, sniffling.

“You couldn’t even let me have that orgasm?” You asked him, disappointment seeping into your voice. He gave you a serious look.

“I had to remind you who is in control in this relationship,” he reprimanded. Your pout didn’t disappear, so Jeonghan sighed. “But… I’ll admit. You weren’t bad at having control of the situation.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. Jeonghan pulled away from you, and as he did you darted up in the bed, a smile pressed across your lips.

“Yeah? You liked it?” You asked excitedly. “It was fun!”

“In moderation,” Jeonghan mumbled, trying to keep your excitement down, but he had a smile on his lips. “You’re always so good for me. Even when you’re trying to be the dominant one.” You smiled at him as he walked back over to you. He buried his fingers into your hair. At first it seemed like he was about to brush his fingers through your hair, but then suddenly he had tightened his grip and was pulling your head. “I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. You were made to submit to me.”

Your face reddened darkly.

“Well, you haven’t said it in those words exactly,” you mumbled. Jeonghan laughed.

“Time for a shower,” he said softly, his tone light. You nodded.

“Yes sir,” you agreed. “Time for a shower.”

Jeonghan laughed at your sudden obedience but you both knew the real reason why. You knew that if you continued to be good… You would get your orgasm before the night ended.

“I love you,” you said softly. Jeonghan hummed.

“I’m sure…” He agreed lightly. “I love you too.”

[wittlesissyb4by]

Alphabet Soup

She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??

Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends. 

“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”

She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”

Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.

“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”

“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”

Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head. 

Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”

Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”

“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.

“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.

It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”

“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.

“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.

“Every day.”

“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”

“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””

Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full. 

“You’re on.”

******

Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?

“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it. 

“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone. 

“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”

“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”

“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”

“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong. 

She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes. 

He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over. 

How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities. 

*****

The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’. 

“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”

Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do you give up?”

“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”

Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”

She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room. 

Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to. 

About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty.  For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there. 

At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb. 

After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday. 

He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor. 

He finished every last drop. 

Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?

Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:

Binky. 

******

Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain. 

His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept. 

The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in. 

Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib. 

******

Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet. 

Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear. 

Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper. 

He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well. 

Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses. 

She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper. 

His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous. 

“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”

Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else. 

But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right. 

He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches. 

So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart. 

He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better. 

He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately. 

He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper. 

A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty. 

Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him. 

When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room. 

Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib. 

When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!

She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.

Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.

 ******

Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep. 

Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it. 

Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??

Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names. 

After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to. 

Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier. 

“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”

Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion. 

“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”

Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??

He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her. 

She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.

About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy. 

“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him. 

“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”

Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look. 

“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified. 

“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away. 

“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”

She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…

“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”

The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!” 

She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”

Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers. 

Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell. 

But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now. 

“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“

“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”

Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body. 

“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”

Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??

“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”

Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking. 

“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”

No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…

“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”

His head moved up and down. 

“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing. 

“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”

She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart. 

Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again. 

“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”

Another great point. 

“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”

Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”

“You did what?”

“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing. 

“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”

Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well. 

“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”

Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good. 

“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster. 

“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked. 

“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”

“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”

“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”

“Yes”

“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.

“Yes Mommy!”

“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”

“The potty.”

She stopped rubbing. 

Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!

“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”

The rubbing started again. 

“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said. 

Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!

It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding. 

Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”

Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper! 

“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“

But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page. 

“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself.  “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”

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

21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers! Credit goes to @dj-kinkster for his help and ideas on making this story a reality!

[lucimaaie]

big deal ✧.* tlou

pairing - Ellie Williams x fem!reader, ellie williams x miller!reader

summary - you and ellie fight over your jealousness.

warning - short, not proofread bc what is that, lil angst to fluff, possibly occ ellie idk

jealousy was something ellie knew all to well. though she wasn’t exactly ready to deal with it in you. she didn’t entertain any other girl (not on purpose) and left you very mushy (to be kept private for that very reason, notes when she was gone with joel and tommy. and yet, you were jealous.

“i’m serious. i don’t see how she was flirting,” ellie walked along side you, ahead of joel and tommy who had been tuning in and out of the argument.

“really? she did the arm squeeze, el. i did that before we got together, remember?” you walked at a pace faster than anyone else, the embarrassment of having to explain your thought process making you want to run away just for a moment. yes, you were jealous of some girl you barely knew and yes you were having this conversation in front of your dad and uncle. it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of

“the arm squeeze?” ellie looked at you incredulously as she walked to keep up with you. “the arm squeeze.” she repeated.

“yes!” you stressed.

“the fuck is that?”

“it’s basic psychology, ellie. the arm squeeze means she likes you. did you not know that when i—“

“does it matter? i like you, not her.”

“i know that.”

“then i don’t get why this is such a big deal, i’m dating you!” though her words rang true something in them didn’t agree with you. maybe it was the just the heat getting to you and not envy. maybe, but it didn’t matter the reason because your feet took you elsewhere as soon as you got to an old abandoned outlet.

you walked around the open space, kicking rocks of debris around as you looked at the broken in and looted stores. some caught your interest and you ventured into them despite joel’s warning to not go too far. you hadn’t even noticed ellie creeping behind you as you flipped through old ripped magazines. “ellie!” you screamed, covering your mouth.

she looked equally as shocked as you as you waited for sounds of clickers, runners, or any monster in the shadows. when the coast was clear, ellie smiled sheepishly and leaned against the counter you sat on. “so..jealous.” she tapped the counter, looking up at you.

“i..don’t want to talk about it, el. you’re right. it doesn’t matter.” you flipped through the magazine as opposed to looking at her. the image of carefree teens looking back at you made you frown. ellie grabbed the paper from your hand and set it on the counter.

“you did an hour ago.” she said with seriousness this time.

“that was an hour ago. it’s not a big deal, like you said.”

ellie shut her eyes as you threw her words back at her. she knew deserved it to some capacity. “it’s not nothing. okay, maybe she was flirting, but i didn’t flirt back, i swear.”

“you don’t have to—“

“yes, i do because you’ll just keep talking about it until i get you to believe me.” she sat down next to you on the counter, her hand coming down over yours. her eyes flicked from your hands to your face.

“i believe you, el.”

“so, then why’re you still mad at me?”

“i’m not. not really. i mean, i was. it’s stupid. i don’t get jealous about anything but—“

“me?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. you could tell the way she held back a smile, even if the mood was serious.

“no, cupcakes. yes you!”

“alright, alright. i’m just clarifying.” she held up her hands in peace. “you only get jealous about me? actually?”

“yeah. and it does not feel good being the jealous girlfriend. at all. i just started an argument with you over an arm squeeze.”

“you did.” she laughed lightly as she knocked her shoulder into yours.

“my theory is still valid.”

“bullshit. i smell bullshit.” she sung. “i get jealous when it comes to you too. i just..don’t say anything.”

“and i turn it into an argument.”

“both equally as shitty.”

“not a competition.”

“like hell it is.”

the light of flashlight flicked on and off and your direction. the sight made you and ellie squint your eyes before you recognized it was joel’s signal in a place like this. “c’mon. gotta get back before the oldies get grumpy.” ellie hopped off the counter and reached for your hand. you did the same and intertwined your fingers with hers.

“e?” you said as you two walked out of the store and into the empty space. she hummed. “if..when you get jealous. could you tell me?”

she looked at from the ground to you. she seemed to consider it for a moment before gnawing on her lip. “you’d get annoyed with me.”

“did i not just piss you off fighting with you?”

“eh.”

“i’m saying annoy me, piss me off back. i’m your girlfriend, i can handle that.” you shrugged as you spoke the words despite your feelings underneath the facade. the whole girlfriend thing was new to the both of you, who known each other for years at this point. you knew the most about each other than anyone else. neither one of you want to be the one to mess it up.

“i’ll hold you to that.” ellie said quietly. your words seemed to give her an unexpected confidence boost enough to pull you closer to her and press a gentle kiss onto your lips. her own were but a bit cracked but that didn't matter as her came to cup your face. she pulled back, eyes soft with affection and hint of anxiety for your reaction. this wasn't your first time kissing each other, she didn't know why she was desperate for- "mph!" she hummed against your lips as you kissed her again. this time still sweet, but not so gentle.

“are yall kissing?” tommy yelled.

you and ellie quickly dispersed, pretending to be enamored with the broken displays of the stores. it wasn't surprising that neither Tommy or Joel bought it. Joel simply waved you two over, glaring as you walked ahead of him, hand-in hand. the air of awkwardness barely lasted a minute before you and ellie burst out laughing, only to be shushed by a grumbling, mildly mortified Joel. "to be continued." Ellie mumbled into your ear.

thank you for reading!

[br0kenangel]

𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

The door opened without a knock, and in strode your eldest son, Aegon. His expression was one of barely contained fury, his mouth set in a hard line. He wore the black and red of his house, his silver hair shining in the light.

You didn’t rise or greet him formally. Instead, you took a slow sip of your wine, watching him like a cat watches a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mother,” he said, his voice sharp and clipped.

“Aegon,” you replied coolly, setting your goblet down with a faint clink. “Come, sit. You look as if you’ve been chewing on a sour lemon.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared slightly as he sat across from you. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists.

“What did he do this time? Has your father’s wisdom left you choking on your own tongue?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s not wisdom he’s choking on. He’s a fool if he thinks Rhaenyra’s claim will hold this kingdom together. He’s determined to throw it all to the wolves. And for what? His precious daughter?”

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, the wood creaking under the pressure. “He still insists on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir,” he spat, his voice brimming with frustration. “Despite all the signs—despite the whispers in the court, despite the tension between the lords—he clings to this foolish notion that she will unite the realm.”

You tilted your head, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Ah, the great dreamer, your father. One might think he’s convinced himself he lives in one of his old songs about gallant knights and wise queens.”

“Dreams,” Aegon spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he stalked toward the window, glaring out at the city below. “Dreams won’t stop the realm from tearing itself apart. His stubbornness is going to ruin us all.”

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Tell me, my dear, what’s worse: a king who refuses to see reason or a son who insists on treating every disagreement like a declaration of war?”

“I need to act, Mother,” Aegon growled. “The realm is on the verge of breaking apart, and he’s too blind to see it.”

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your fingers. “And how do you propose to fix this? Drag him from his throne by the scruff of his neck? That would be quite a sight.”

He glared at you, though there was no real malice in his eyes. “This isn’t a jest.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied smoothly. “But sometimes, my son, the truth is so absurd that the only thing left to do is laugh.”

Aegon’s eyes snapped back to you, sharp as daggers. “I am declaring war,” he said, his tone dangerous. “War on stupidity. Father is leaving our family vulnerable. The lords see weakness, and weakness is blood in the water. They will turn on us the moment Rhaenyra takes the throne.”

You laughed softly, amused by his intensity. “Oh, Aegon. Always so dramatic.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “You think the lords will rise for her? The only thing these men rise for is power. Offer them that, and they will forget who was promised what. It’s always the same song, my son. Play the right tune, and they will dance to your music.”

Aegon clenched his fists at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. “The music won’t matter if Father continues to shield her with his blind loyalty. He treats her like she’s untouchable, like the gods themselves have chosen her to rule.”

“Ah, yes, the gods,” you said dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “A convenient excuse for poor decision-making. If we all did what the gods wanted, we’d be living in rags and begging for scraps. No, Aegon, the gods don’t care for the affairs of men. This game, this fight for the throne—it belongs to us. It always has.”

Aegon paced in front of you, his mind racing. “And yet, here I am, watching as the realm slips through my fingers because my father insists on upholding his dying legacy. Rhaenyra is weakness. She’ll tear the kingdom apart the moment she’s crowned, and he refuses to see it.”

“Your father has always been a romantic at heart,” you said with a sigh. “He’s clinging to the idea that love and family will prevail over politics. A fool’s hope, if ever there was one.”

“Fool,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his frustration clear.

You regarded him with a look that was equal parts admiration and exasperation. “Just as I expected,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Aegon furrowed his brow. “What?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I'm just proud of my son. Ruthless, cold, but oh so clever.”

He blinked, unsure if you were complimenting him or insulting him.

You leaned back, your voice turning serious now. “Aegon, you have ambition, that much is clear. And yes, your father’s decision may well lead to war. But wars are not won by anger and frustration. They are won by strategy, by waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” Aegon said through gritted teeth. “If we delay, we will lose support. The longer Rhaenyra remains the heir, the more dangerous she becomes.”

You smirked. “Dangerous? Rhaenyra? The woman has more soft edges than the pillows on my bed.”

“She’s dangerous because of the people around her,” Aegon snapped. “Daemon, Corlys, and all those who would see her on the throne. They will turn the realm against us.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Daemon is certainly a problem. And Corlys…well, his stupidity is only matched by his ego. But you are right. The lords will not stay loyal to Rhaenyra for long if they sense weakness.”

Aegon looked at you, his eyes sharp and determined. “Then we need to act.”

You held up a hand. “Calm yourself, boy. This isn’t a tavern brawl. You must act carefully, deliberately. There’s a difference between being strong and being reckless. Don’t be such a child about it.”

Aegon’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m not a child.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Then stop acting like one, stamping your feet because your father won’t do as you wish. He won’t change his mind, Aegon. He’s too proud and too stubborn, just like you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Listen, Aegon. I raised you to be a ruler, not a brute. You must understand the importance of timing. Your father will not change his mind easily, but he is not your true enemy. The lords, the people—they are the ones you must win over.”

“And what would you have me do, Mother?”

You gave him a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “You show them that you are the only one who can protect them. You play the part of the dutiful son, for now. Let your father continue with his dream. But when the time comes—and it will come—you make sure the realm sees you as the only viable option. The lords are like sheep. They will follow the strongest shepherd.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I can steady it,”

You smiled. “I know. And you will. But you have to be patient. Anger makes for terrible decisions.”

“I have no patience left for Father’s foolishness,” Aegon muttered.

“Then let him be foolish,” you replied coolly. “Let him play his hand. And when the time is right, we’ll play ours.”

“And what if the time never comes?” Aegon asked, his voice low, full of doubt.

You smiled, leaning back once more. “Oh, it will. It always does.”

Aegon stood there for a moment, visibly wrestling with himself, before he let out a long breath and sat down across from you. “You’ve always had more faith in my future than I have.”

“I trained you for this, didn’t I?” you said dryly. “I didn’t raise a fool. Nor did I raise a man who lets his temper dictate his choices. You should know that the moment you act out of rage, you’ve already lost.”

Aegon’s lips twitched, the tension in the room easing slightly. “So, I’m to be the calm one, while everyone else runs around like fools?”

“You are to be the calm storm,” you corrected. “Let them think you’re passive, let them underestimate you. The realm is full of fools, but we are not among them.”

Aegon finally allowed himself a small, grim smile. “You’re far more ruthless than anyone may think, Mother.”

You raised your goblet in a mock toast. “I take that as a compliment.”

He nodded, his resolve clearly strengthening. “I’ll bide my time, then. But when the time comes—”

“When the time comes,” you interrupted smoothly, “you’ll be ready. And the realm will kneel to you, as it should.”

Aegon stood, the weight of your words settling comfortably on his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”

You watched him head toward the door, then called after him. “Aegon.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

“Don’t be afraid to smile,” you added with a wicked smirk. “It unsettles people when a king looks like he’s already won.”

Aegon chuckled, a rare sound, but one that left the room with more tension released than when he’d entered.

As he left, you leaned back in your chair, sipping your wine and staring out the window again. The game had been in motion for years, and your son had finally learned how to play it.

“Well,” you murmured to yourself, “this should be interesting.”

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.