#who he was you’d understand lol)

[derrygirlstrash]

You're so right about Steven Moffat. Favorite Doctor Who era, for sure!

Thank you, it is something I completely stand by! Glad to speak for others! This fuckass website just doesn’t get it sometimes.

[pussymasterdooku]

[continues to utilize a tag-only approach to personal posts because that’s the way my brain is wired i guess]

[sodacowboy]

oh. oh no. I don’t know ANYTHING about music.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[lokissweater]

a million more novembers

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: its you and megumi’s cute little two year anniversary! a car picnic at a stargazing hotspot in the city— snacks, drinks, your loving baseball man, and gifts galore? yes please!

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUUUUFFF GALOOREEEE AWWWUUHHH!!, sexual themes, mostly sfw except for like one steamy part ;), boobie sucking, grinding, soft loving megumi OFCCC, sliight angst but really nothing, all characters are aged up, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 8.8k

authors note: ANNIVERSARY SPEECCCIIAAALLL I AM CRRRYYIINNNGGG!!! i hope you guys enjoy this little side fun mini chapter of sir gumi and reader’s anniversary day, and their endeavors with yuji and readers best friend :333 wanted to give you guys an extra mlb!megumi chapter in celebration of their LUUUUVVV !!! MWAAAHHHHH I LOOOVEE YOUUUU !!! TAKE CAAAREEEE !!! <3333333

i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

if you could, you’d fake pass out at this very moment so that way you’d be excused by your professor and get the fuck out of your afternoon lecture right this instant.

but you couldn’t, because attendance was mandatory and you’d lose points upon missing out… and you had an exam next week— which is something you normally just grumbled about and dealt with seeing as it was just a part of being in college, except right now? it was criminal to even think about an upcoming exam like this.

because it was you and megumi’s two year anniversary.

and the only thing you wanted to do was be there with him for the entire day… but because of your classes and megumi having abnormal back to back practices again due to the upcoming world series, you both agreed that you’d drive over to the stadium after your afternoon class and leave together for your little date after he was done.

but even though megumi had practice, you wanted to be at the stadium so fucking badly— watching him pitch and swing and just do what he does best one of your absolute favorite hobbies, the way he plays never getting old and actually illegal to even think that something like that could be a possibility.

you shrunk down in your seat, arms crossed as your professor went over topics about something and guidelines about whatever, you usually paying more attention to the material if it was any regular day but wanting to strangle yourself because the education system was preventing you from being with your man.

your phone lit up suddenly with a notification, you smiling softly to yourself upon realizing who it was and sitting up, grabbing your phone to unlock it.

(gumi <3): how’s class baby

you quickly typed back a response.

(you): do you think if i pretend to pass out right now my professor will excuse me and i can just leave

(gumi <3): lol

(gumi <3): you only have thirty minutes left though right?

(you): okay but gumi what does that have to do with me wanting to pretend to pass out so i can go see you faster

(you): and make fan edits of you while i wait 

(you): I— I MEAN—

(gumi <3): omg

(gumi <3): you’ve made enough of those

(gumi <3): no more

you quietly scoffed in your seat, thumbs rapidly typing away.

(you): gumi i can’t believe you’re not supportive of my extra curricular activities rn

(you): after EVERYTHING i’ve done for you

(you): after all the times i’ve sucked your dick

(you): and i thought you liked my edits :(

megumi took a minute to respond before your phone buzzed again.

(gumi <3): LOL

(gumi <3): i do baby i’m kidding

(gumi <3): and don’t put that image in my head rn

(you): oh??????

(you): and why not???? ;))

(you): boner alert perhaps??? ;))

(you): maybe today during our cute little date you can take me to pound town in the back seat of your car and make me cum and cry all over your dick gumi!!

you shrunk further down in your seat and snickered quietly, funnily shielding your phone to prevent anyone else seated around you in your lecture from seeing the absurd messages on your phone.

(gumi <3): jesus fucking christ

(gumi <3): why are you doing this

(you): because i loooveee youuuu <33

(you): and i can’t wait to seee youuuu <333

(you): maybe i should go to the bathroom rn and send you a boobie pic :P

(gumi <3): please

(gumi <3): fuck wait my breaks over i have to go

(gumi <3): fuck

you mushed a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing out loud, typing a response.

(you): BAAAAHAHAHAH

(you): OMG IM SO SORRY GUMI

(you): HAVE A GOOD REST OF YOUR PRACTICE OKAY ILL SEE YOU IN A BIT! <3

(gumi <3): do you think if i pretend to pass out coach will excuse me

(you): NO GUMI 

(you): GOOOO

(you): GO PLAY GO PLAY

(gumi <3): god

(gumi <3): fine

(gumi <3): i love you pretty baby i’ll see you 

(gumi <3): and pay attention

(you): i love you too gumiiii !!! <333

(you): NO PROMISES BYE !!!

(you): SMOOOCCCHHHH

you breathed out softly through your nose and set your phone back down, one leg crossing over the other as you impatiently waited and practically glared at the powerpoint slides in front of you, your ankle bouncing and mind drifting off again— double checking over the list of things you and megumi needed for your date instead repeatedly in case you forgot something.

since your anniversary couldn’t be an all day thing, the two of you planned a cute little car picnic date at a star gazing hotspot out in the hills of the city, a place megumi had actually been to before in his childhood with gojo and his sister, and one he said he remembered to be nice and quiet with a good view of the stars, similar to how they looked like when you all went on that trip in the mountains a few months ago with his dad, yuji, and your best friend— the fact only making you overly ecstatic, since megumi suggesting something like that without a little gruff and huff was always a special rare sight to see.

and the only things megumi literally allowed you to bring were the fuzzy blankets and pillows and such, him forbidding you from buying absolutely anything else like snacks, drinks, and the food, saying that he had it and it was okay— simply only chuckling and lightly flicking your forehead when you grumbled and fought with him over it in the hopes that he would let you take care of at least half of the things.

he did not.

“alright i think i’ll stop here for today and let you guys go a little earl—”

you shot up from your desk and shoved your books in your bag, not even letting your professor finish before you were already up and speed walking out of the lecture hall and down your building, thanking the gods above for the thousandth time that megumi’s stadium was only a fifteen minute drive from your campus, and therefore made it so much easier for you to drive on over without difficulties and pretty much whenever the fuck wanted… which was all of the time.

just as you plopped in the drivers seat and chucked your bag to the passengers side, an apparent buzzing vibrated through the right back pocket of your skirt as you reached in to pull it out, your best friend’s name flashing at the top.

“hellooo!” you answered, swinging the door shut and turning on the ignition, the heater unit blasting through the vents and warming up the spiking chilly temperature in your car.

“hi babe!” your best friend greeted. “how far away are you?”

“i just got out of class! i should be there in about ten if i go over the speed limiiit.” you grinned, putting your phone on speaker and setting it down on your lap, backing out of your parking space.

“SHE SAID TEN MINUTES GOING OVER THE SPEED LIMIT MEGU— what?! i can’t— i can’t hear you idiot you’re across the fucking field!—”

you laughed loudly as you drove out of your campus parking lot, zooming down the street and going the usual route to his stadium.

“oh my— megumi ordered and yelled at me to call you to see how far you were babe.” she sighed. “when is this man ever gonna treat me fairly this is ridiculous— WHAT?! TELL HER WHAT?!—”

“i’m about eight minutes away now!” you laughed. “tell him that please i’m almost there—”

“WAIT SHE SAID SHE’S EIGHT MINUTES AWA— oh my god okay megumi says not to go over the speed limit and to park next to him in the players parking lot.”

“tell him i said watching him play baseball is more important than the law i don’t give a—”

“SHE SAID WATCHING YOU PLAY BASEBALL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE LAW— oh he’s coming. save yourself and hang up y/n he’s coming— YUJI GET HIM HE’S GONNA TAKE MY PHONE— ARGH STOP!—”

“—go over the speed limit and see what happens.”

a different deeper voice muttered over the line, partially out of breath and one you instantly recognized to be megumi’s as you giggled.

“gumi the speed limit is a social construct and if i don’t get to watch you play for the last thirty minutes of practice i’m gonna gauge my eyeballs out.”

“baseball’s also a social construct.” he deadpanned. “and you watch me play all of the time baby don’t speed you drive like a fucking street racer sometimes.”

“but isn’t it cool and sexy that i do? eehh?” you quipped in a silly way. “and i don’t care how many times i’ve seen you play gumi… i still need to be admitted into a mental facility each time it’s embarrassing.”

he chuckled softly.

“you almost here?”

“yeah! i’m just pulling into the stadium i’m going over to your structure right now.”

“okay.” he spoke. “park next to me please.”

“—megumi i told her that already—”

“can you not eavesdrop—”

“—if it has to do with y/n fuck no—”

“—okay!” you sputtered while shifting your gear to park and turning off the ignition, cutting their bickering off. “i’m here gumi i’m gonna walk to the stadium now.”

“alright i’ll see you baby.” 

“i’ll see you!—”

“your phone time’s revoked asswipe give me my device right now—”

“—can you mind your fucking business for two seconds—”

“NO!—”

you winced and hung up the phone, shaking your head amusedly as you grabbed your keys and stepped out of the car before locking it, walking your way over across the parking structure and to the entrance of the stadium, maneuvering through various hallways and corners like muscle memory and politely saying hello to some of the team’s staff that you recognized as you walked.

you passed through the main hall— megumi’s giant glorious handsome portrait still displayed proudly against the wall amongst his other teammates, prestigious awards and trophies in glass frames and casings littering the room from practically top to bottom as you happily moved through the hall, passing by the same bench that you first unknowingly and officially met megumi in while you were embarrassingly crying your eyes out over him— a treasured memory that you swoon over every now and then at the way he kindly gave you his sunglasses to hide your big fat tears.

you hoped that megumi’s management never replaced that freaking bench, as you wanted to put a plaque on it in commemoration of you and your emo man, knowing that if they ever did you’d be at those stadium doors first thing in the morning to grab and take it home with you to keep.

upon opening the doors to the stadium, you continued on down the steps as you looked on ahead and squinted your eyes, distant hollers and the clanking of bats echoing through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, several players out on the field practicing and pitching but none being megumi as you reached the bottom and went inside the bullpen, expecting to see your best friend sitting there and possibly still fighting with your boyfriend, but faltering instead.

because megumi was sat there on the bench by himself with his baseball cap on… waiting for you, a bouquet of pretty pink tulips in his arms as he looked straight over the field with an emotionless gaze, his head snapping to you once he heard you coming in and standing up, his face gradually warming.

pink tulips were your favorite.

“gumi…” you spoke softly, astonished and mushy inside as you grabbed the bouquet from him, it neatly tucked in brown paper wrap and pretty pink tule with a little matching bow around the stems to tie it off, the paper crinkling in your arms.

“hi.”

“oh my— these are gorgeous baby thank you!” you gushed, your cheeks hot and you absolutely beaming as you swung your unoccupied arm around his neck and brought him in, pecking his slightly sweaty cheek repeatedly as he huffed out a breathy laugh and pulled you to him.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured, cheek lightly resting against the side of your head as you smiled.

“you really didn’t have to gumi you bought basically everything for today…” you spoke softly, bringing your head back a bit to look at him.

he shrugged.

“so.”

you scoffed. “so? you don’t let me do anything and i feel oppressed.”

he snorted, playfully rolling his eyes and kissing your forehead. 

dramatic.

“it’s fine baby.”

“okay but it’s not.” you grumbled lowly, and the corners of his lips quirked up, taking a tiny step back as he released you and lifted a hand, gently pinching your cheek.

“you look really pretty.”

your pout slid into a cheeky smile, a cute blush rising to your cheeks.

“thank you gumi!” you readjusted the bouquet in your arms and shyly looked away, his direct dark blue eyes on you still nerve wracking even after two years. 

“h— how come you’re not on the field?”

“oh.” megumi’s gaze shifted to his playing teammates. “i wanted to give you the tulips before going back out.”

your eyes softened, chest clenching as you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a little kiss.

“you’re so nice…” you murmured. 

“i—”

“fushiguro i need you back on the field!”

megumi huffed and rolled his eyes at his coach interrupting his time with you, hands reluctantly dropping from your waist as he took a step back.

“m’sorry baby...” he sighed tiredly, lifting his cap up from his spiky hair and adjusting it back on. “practice is almost over i promise.”

you frantically shook your head. “no gumi it’s okay don’t apologize! go please though i don’t want you to get in trouble.”

he nodded, quickly pecking your cheek before stepping out of the bullpen and back out on the field, turning his body slightly just as he reached the home plate and raising a hand to you as a little goodbye, shifting his attention to his coach and the rest of his teammates once he saw you give him one back.

you walked over to the benches then and sat, your eyes happily watching the mock game unfold as you settled your pretty bouquet carefully over your lap.

“please tell me you guys are done it’s fucking cold up here in the stands—”

your head shot to the side and you instantly smiled, your best friend popping her head in from the bullpen entrance and shivering.

“heyyy! oh my god yes come come—” you scooched over and patted the spot next to you, her trodding over and plopping down.

“let me seeeee!” she squealed and nudged your shoulder with hers, gesturing to your tulips as you lit up and turned the bouquet in her direction, her jaw dropping.

“i hate him but he’s good.” she muttered, shaking her head as you laughed and lightly hit her arm. 

megumi ran through a few bases, passing by the bullpen and stopping at a base closest to it with remnants of brown dirt puffing and swirling through the air, him looking over his shoulder at you briefly before turning back to the game.

“he does so much for me that i feel like a big fat loser that does mediocre for him.” you spoke worriedly, and your girl friend looked at you bewilderedly.

“are you kidding? y/n you being with him is enough jesus that man is an ogre—”

you flicked her forehead and she cackled, pushing your hand away.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry i’m joking… kind of…whatever— babe you literally do so much let him dote on you like this… that man loves you.”

you pursed your lips to suppress a giddy smile.

“plus after the pain and torture we both went through with your high school boyfriend christ—”

“oh my god don’t remind me.” you mumbled, shifting your attention back to the field. “he sucked so bad.”

she laughed. “and it took you forever to realize that he was a loser y/n… you gave him too much and he gave you absolutely nothing.”

you solemnly nodded, the feeling of miserable regret filling your body.

“granted i think megumi’s also a loser.” she continued, and you playfully glared. “but! he’s a different kind of loser. he’s good for you babe… and you’re super good for him.”

you grinned brightly at her, set your bouquet to the side, and threw your arms around her shoulders, bringing her in a tight hug as she laughed loudly and held you back with just as much love.

“have fun on your anniversary date tonight!” your girl friend exclaimed. “you guys are still going to that stargazing spot right?”

“mhm!” you nodded. “we’re going up in his car and setting up the backseat once we get there.”

“are you guys getting freaky too back there?—”

your head snapped ahead to find yuji leaning against the gate of the bullpen on the other side, your eyes wide and mortified as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestingly.

“h—huh?—”

“eehhh?” your best friend matched her boyfriends expression, her eyes twinkling and mischievous. “valid question yu! what are you wearing under your outfit let me see—”

you yelped as your best friend pulled and tugged at the collar of your chunky knitted sweater, basically shoving her head through to see what you had on and you pushing on her shoulders to try and get her away.

“stop you sicko!—”

“y/n why the fuck don’t you have a lingerie set under here—”

“oh my god shut your mouth right now—”

megumi curiously turned his head over to the commotion by the bullpen, jaw dropping and eyes growing big in absolute dumb struck horror as he watched your best friend basically trying to strip your sweater off of you, and yuji just standing there and watching like a fucking pervert—

“itadori!” he barked, and yuji jumped a whopping fifteen feet in the air, swiveling around to face him.

“oh hey man!— WHAT THE FU—”

megumi hurled a literal baseball at him and yuji dove out of the way, the ball hitting against the gate of the bullpen as you and your best friend jumped at the slamming noise.

“the fuck are you guys doing?!” megumi yelled, arms out in emphasis as he quickly strode over with pinched brows.

he looked to you as soon as he properly reached the bullpen, the collar of your sweater stretched out over an exposed shoulder with your black bra literally peeking out, your pretty eyes wide and downright alarmed as your best friend still had an iron tugging grip on your sweater.

megumi’s gaze hardened, switching to your girl friend.

“get off.”

he looked to yuji, his legs wobbling in fear as he used the gaps of the bullpen gate to lift himself up from the dirt.

“close your fucking eyes—”

“yes sir fushiguro sir!—”

“what?!” your best friend exclaimed. “megumi if you guys are gonna fuck in the backseat she needs to be looking scrumptious—”

his face paled and his cheeks turned a vibrant pink simultaneously.

“why are you guys always like this?” he muttered exasperatedly, stepping inside the bullpen now and pushing her off of you, your girl friend scoffing as megumi pulled your collar back over your shoulder and fixed your sweater for you, your lips clamped shut as you tried your best to refrain yourself from laughing.

“oh my bad. thought the perv in you would thank my services—”

“why the hell would i thank you for stripping my girlfriend in front of the entire fucking team—”

“—y/n i literally think i have a lingerie set in my car i’ll give it to you it’s new i just bought it to show yuji—”

you gasped. 

“wait really?! what color? i wanted to wear one but i didn’t want to show up to class with it—”

megumi’s eyes bulged and shot to you, mouth opening and closing like an idiot.

“i think it’s red but i’m pretty sure your tits are bigger than mine lemme see—”

your best friend yanked your collar again and you screamed as megumi grabbed you and pulled you up against his chest, shielding you away from your lunatic girl friend as she cackled and pointed at megumi.

“megumi’s getting a boonneeerrrr!—”

his eyes frantically switched between her and yuji— his hands still tightly clasped over his eyes.

“what kind of sick fucks are you both?!”

you giggled uncontrollably over his appalled menacing face, your laughter muffling up against his uniform.

“us?!” your best friend yelled. “don’t get me started on you! i saw that text you sent y/n last week asking to send a video of her fi—”

“oh god babe don’t finish that sentence also can i open my eyes now you guys—”

“itadori! fushiguro! huddle up!”

yuji timidly seperated his fingers and looked at the group, hands dropping and a wide smile spreading once he realized you weren’t half naked anymore.

“off we go fushiguro!” he quipped, turning and the dirt crackling beneath his cleats as he walked. “boss man wants us—”

“i heard him.” megumi grumbled, arms loosening from their hold around you as they slid and fell at his sides, his face just plain out annoyed and over it, and you smiled sweetly at him.

“it’s okay!” you poked his cheek. “i’ll wait for you here while you guys finish up? or do you want me to go inside the locker rooms already?”

“go to the locker rooms baby.” he mumbled. “it’s cold.”

you nodded, and he placed a hand on your head with the tiniest smile, heading out of the bullpen after and jogging up to the rest of his teammates for regrouping and final announcements.

your best friend swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and you both made your way to the exit just as you grabbed your bouquet again, walking up the steps of the stands and down a few corridors and pathways until you reached the echoey hallway, the teams locker room coming into view as you pushed the heavy door open and went in.

“do you still want my lingerie set?” your girl friend asked, fixing her hair in front of one of the big mirrors. “we could still try and see if it fits but your boobs are huge compared to mine—”

you laughed and waved her off. “it’s okay babe! thank you though… i don’t think we’re gonna do anything like that out in the open and in the middle of nowhere…”

she shrugged, sending you a little smirk through the mirror. “megumi’s a weirdo. so i think you in fact will.”

you shot her a funny glare and walked to your boyfriends locker while placing your pretty bouquet down on the bench— turning the little knob around and hitting the numbers that made up his locker combination, the metal clinking open and you opening it to organize his clothes and equipment like you usually did.

you dragged his heavy duffel bag out and unzipped it, rummaging around a little to find the clothes that he had packed for your date today— spotting his thick black crewneck and gray cargo pants as you took them out and folded them neatly on the bench in front of you, setting the rest of the things he needed to the side and perking up once you heard distant chattering and banter, several players starting to pile in as you shot a few polite smiles, stepping over the bench and plopping down to wait for megumi.

“i said no.”

“pleeeaaasee!” yuji begged, the two of them emerging from the entryway as you lit up at the sight of your grumpy man, his agitated eyes to the floor as he trudged over. “i thought we were best friends fushiguro. brothers if you will—”

“no.”

“pleaaaseee!—”

“what does he want?” you laughed softly, megumi’s eyes coming up and moving to his tidily folded clothes that you had set for him on the bench, his gaze softening.

“nothing bab—”

“wrestle!” yuji wailed, dramatically leaning his entire weight on your best friend in a hug as she dumbfoundedly reciprocated, patting his back. “i wanted to see who’s strongest…”

“babe go change you’re sweaty—”

“not until fushiguro wrestles with me—”

“no.”

“whyyy?!”

you giggled loudly, hand over your mouth as megumi sent you a small close lipped smile and stepped over the bench to his locker, taking off his baseball cap and hanging it inside.

“because it’s stupid.” he mumbled, and yuji scoffed.

“wrestling is the ultimate sport for strategy, discipline and character how could any of that be stupid—”

“yu change i wanna go homeee!” your best friend whined, trying to pry him off of her. “i’ll wrestle with you.”

yuji sprung up and grinned. “will you actually?! i won’t go easy babe i can’t play favorites—”

“yes now move—”

“if i win can you suck my di—”

megumi flung his deodorant at yuji’s head and rolled his eyes as he cried out and pouted, the little container clattering against the ground.

“gumi!” you gasped. “be nice please.”

he sighed softly through his nose, unbuttoning his jersey as he begrudgingly and briefly looked over his shoulder.

“sorry.”

“oh wait what was that?” you girl friend spoke up. “i think you need to speak up a little megumi! can’t hear you.”

“i said sorry.” he spat, and she smiled, satisfied.

“you’re forgiven! thanks!”

megumi grumbled as he shook his jersey off and long sleeve underneath with it, his little chain with his promise ring dangling out around his collar, and you shamelessly and obviously drooling over his bare toned frame then as he sorted through his clothes and got his things ready for the shower— the locker room emptying out now and only one or two players remaining besides the lot of you.

you extended a hand out, wanting megumi to give you his jersey and long sleeve as he shifted his attention to you.

“what baby.”

“i’ll put it in the laundry bin for you!” you spoke sweetly. “so you can go shower.”

his heart squeezed as he shook his head. “s’okay. just wait for me.”

“gumi the laundry room’s just down the hall.” you laughed, taking his uniform from him. “i’ll be quick.”

he pursed his lips, feeling like you’ve already done more than enough for him and him just dicking around and playing ball for hours this entire time, wanting to get your date started so he could spend time with you and give you the things he wanted to give you, and not be around idiot insane people anymore (yuji and your best friend).

“sit down please.” he mumbled.

your jaw dropped.

“i’m being oppressed again—”

“we’ll see you guys tomorrow!” your girl friend smiled, coming over and giving you a hug as yuji went to put a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “have fun on your date! and happy anniversaryyy!”

“thank youuuu!” you responded kindly, hugging her back and swaying funnily, letting her go after and looking to her boyfriend. “drive safe yuji okay?”

“will do!” he smiled brightly, wrapping a friendly arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. “have fun you guys. and don’t get mauled by bears.”

you snorted, the both of you pulling back and waving at each other with final goodbyes before they turned and began walking to the exit, now the only ones left in the locker rooms being you and megumi. 

“text me if you have sex in the back y/n!”

“oh my god!—” you miserably dropped your head in your hands as your girl friends vulgar sentence literally echoed throughout the hallway outside, anyone within a one inch radius able to hear it as megumi laughed quietly, the doors to the locker room officially closing.

“your best friend is clinically insane.”

you giggled, nudging him away playfully and him catching your wrist just as you did so, tugging you in and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“no she’s not.” you smiled cutely, your little cheek pressed up against the warm skin of his chest as he looked at you. “she’s honest. and lovely.”

“and deluded.”

“gumi!”

“sorry.”

he craned his neck down and kissed you, every tense muscle in his body giving away and slowly oozing into a state of peace as your soft lips moved with his, megumi finally having you to himself for the night so he could properly get your anniversary going.

he pulled away and patted your head.

“m’gonna shower really quick baby.”

“okay!” you smiled. “can i sit by the shower with you? heh.”

he chuckled and nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours and pulling you towards the shower room— a spacious and modern area with individual stalls and little plushy sofas across from them, megumi leading you to one as you sat down and took his fresh pair of clothes from him to set on your lap.

“remember when i fucked you in here.”

“gumi!” you gasped as your face grew red. “okay but which time because my favorite time was two weeks ago when you bent me over th—”

he laughed, the boyish sound bouncing off the tile walls as he shook his head with a little faint blush to his cheeks, fingers coming down to unbutton his pants and your hands flying to cover over your eyes, him pausing and looking at you quizzically.

“what.”

“i’m giving you privacy gumi. something you wouldn’t know about in regards to me.”

he scoffed.

“kay fine. i’ll stop asking—”

“no!” you yelled, hands clasping together like a prayer. “don’t finish that sentence i don’t wanna know i don’t need to know whatever it is continue doing it—”

megumi rolled his eyes with a smile, taking off the rest of his clothes and you squeaking as you covered your line of sight again, the sound of the shower running with the door closing an indicator to you that the coast was clear for you to look, hands coming down as they settled over megumi’s clean clothes.

and he literally took less than five minutes to shower… or maybe it was because your little endless chattering made the time go by faster or the fact that you always took close to an hour, but he was out of there with a towel around his delicious waist before you could even realize and on the way out to change into his outfit.

megumi straight from the shower was always an interesting sight to see, for the usual spikes in his jet black hair were nonexistent for the time being as his hair just laid flat, and he almost looked like an entirely different man as you stood on the other side of the bench behind him while he sat tying his shoe laces, you drying his hair with a small white hand towel.

“i’m really excited for tonight gumi!” you cheesed. “oh! and i brought my laptop too incase you wanted to watch a movieeee.”

he straightened up from his hunched over position and stood, turning around to kiss your head in gratitude before taking the towel from you and drying off the last bit of his hair.

“sounds good baby.” he grabbed his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder, keys hooked from one of his belt loops on his pants as he offered his hand out to you on the way out of the locker room, you happily taking it and interlacing your fingers in the hallway, the both of you walking on to leave the stadium with your bouquet in your arm, making a quick pit stop at the laundry room first to toss his uniform and towels in one of the various hampers, leaving and going through the main hall hand in hand after with the building basically vacant now— not a single player, staff, or management member around as you moved your way down corridors to the exit, entering the parking garage.

megumi grabbed his keys and clicked a button upon reaching the players parking lot area, his shiny black car beeping and flickering its lights and him opening the door to the backseat to throw his stuff in, you catching a glimpse of the piles of grocery bags filled with chips, snacks, pastries and such as you smiled, unlocking your own vehicle and opening your trunk as megumi did his.

he swiftly stepped in and grabbed your blankets and a few pillows, transferring them over to his car and you setting your bouquet down in the back, throwing in a few other things.

“oh gumi!” 

“hm?”

you opened your drivers side door and reached in, megumi peering around from his open trunk to look at you.

“i got us a little lunchbox cake!” you pulled out a small white cake carrier and showed him. “and a number two candle too so we can light it!”

“oh nice baby.” he calmly smiled, reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulling out his wallet.

you blinked.

“what are you doing?”

he gave you a confused look, opening the folds and taking out a few twenty dollar bills.

“for the cake.”

“what?!” you frantically shook your head. “no i got this for us—”

he scoffed, extending his arm out to you regardless with a pile of bills in hand that was way over the initial cost of the little cake, your jaw running slack.

“oh absolutely not sir i’m not taking that—”

“take it.”

“nope!”

“y/n.”

“nuh uh.”

megumi sighed and retracted his hand. “i’m putting it in your purse—”

“if you put it in my purse i swear to god i’m never letting you see me naked ever again—”

he froze and narrowed his eyes at you, you standing there with a shit eating grin as you tilted your head.

“just get in the car.” he grumbled, slamming his trunk shut and doing the same with yours, you cheering in your head and lighting up over your win as you opened his passenger side door and got in, completely unaware of megumi choosing to take his chances and shove the bills in your purse anyways.

the car ride there was a whopping one hour, seeing as the stargazing hotspot was in the middle of the bustling city where megumi’s apartment was around, your boyfriend making frequent stops at various food places to pick up the food he had ordered for the picnic, and you still fighting with him over the fact that he should let you pay at least half, him just laughing at your huffs and puffs until he simmered you down to a mere grumble with a kiss to your cheek.

“i don’t care how many times i’ve done it there isn’t a limit.” 

megumi backed in reverse once he found a good spot for you both on the hill, looking behind through his rear view window with a hand on the back of your headrest.

“but you have to let me pay sometimes gumi.” you sighed softly. “i feel like im freeloading off of your millions and doing fucking nothing.”

he gave you a bewildered look.

“first of all.” he shifted his gear into park. “you do everything so don’t give me that. second of all—”

he unlocked the car and you both got out, the trunk latching open on its own as you walked over.

“you’re not supposed to pay baby.” he stared at you sincerely, a little crease in between his brows. “ever. i don’t care.”

he unhooked the backseats and pushed them down, the trunk now extending even wider and leaving plenty of space for the two of you to set up your picnic, your shoes off and down below next to the car.

“i just—” you struggled, shaking out the blankets and splaying them out. “i worry that it’ll bother you eventually…”

“it won’t.” he responded firmly, yet still gentle. “did your ex-boyfriend make you feel bad about it? is that why?”

you froze.

“no…”

he looked over his shoulder just as he set a pillow down, dark blue eyes staring you down.

“wow i’m so hungry right now gumi are you—”

“i heard what your best friend said during practice about him.” he set a few more pillows down. “she talks like a linebacker.”

you laughed, grabbing the box of fairy lights you had brought and pulling them out, untangling them by sections.

megumi never really asked too in detail about your ex, just because he knew he’d get bitter and bothered by the thought of it, and the only things he really knew was that he was a moron who said you were a blabbermouth and didn’t treat you right at all, your three and a half year relationship with him in high school one megumi wished he could erase entirely.

but now with the way you squirmed and stared off into space in avoidance over this particular topic… he was curious.

just how bad was he?

“did he pay for your dates or did you.”

you fiddled with a little fairy light bulb.

“well— he did… but then we started splitting it… and then i started paying…”

megumi shook his head, reaching for the grocery bags and taking out the snacks he’d bought.

“why.”

you finished untangling the cord and reached up, looping the lights around through the grab handles of the car.

“i don’t really know…” you mumbled. “but i felt bad because he always did initially pay… so i was just giving back. but then—”

you looped it through the last handle and grabbed the battery box.

“i remember one time he asked me if we could split the bill on our anniversary dinner.”

megumi stopped.

“and then every time he did pay for me he would say side joking comments like— ‘are you gonna pay this time? are you gonna take care of the bill? since i bought you dinner are you gonna buy me this?’ blah blah—”

megumi was looking directly at you at this point, eyebrows furrowed and with slightly parted lips as he slowly set up the food and listened.

“and i don’t mess around when it comes to things like money.” you finished off screwing the battery box after putting a fresh pair in, switching the small lever and the fairly lights twinkling to life. “i appreciated so much every time he did pay so i just felt like i was— i don’t know i just felt guilty. his side comments made me feel a little awkward…”

you scooched over and sat back on your ankles next to megumi, helping him with the groceries.

“i remember one time too for valentine’s day, we had gone out to eat dinner and he paid with his usual side comment… but when we got back to his place i had given him his gift and he hadn’t gotten anything for me at all.”

“huh?” he spoke up. “did he give you flowers at least?”

you shook your head, a little sad look on your face.

“he told me my gift was dinner… which again i did really appreciate that he paid. and he never really got me flowers either unless it was for special occasions like anniversaries… so once a year?”

megumi was in complete and utter disbelief.

how in the ever living fuck were you ever with a guy like that for so long? a girl like you whom he literally worshipped the shit out of the ground you walked on, the thought of you being so incredibly sweet and doting and selfless for some dumb fuck who just took advantage of your kindness again aggravating megumi, him chucking the pastries he bought out of the bags one by one bitterly and you blinking at him.

“what a fucking idiot.”

you giggled, nodding in agreement as you both finished setting up, you crawling and sitting down by the mountain of fluffy pillows as you extended an arm out for him.

“that’s why i just get nervous gumi…” you spoke softly, pulling him to lay down next to you as you looked at the beading stars through his open sun roof, the view and landscape of the sparkling city below insane as megumi slid an am around your shoulders, nudging you to lay on his chest. “i don’t wanna end up bothering you or upsetting you about it and repeating the cycle so—”

“oh god baby no…” he looked at you, squeezing your shoulder. “you realize all of that was because he’s a loser right.”

“yeah to an extent—”

“no not to an extent.” megumi cut you off. “i know for a fact he never did anything for you… and for him to do shit like that on top of it is crazy.”

you slid a slow arm across his torso and held him tighter.

“i do what i do because i love you… and because you deserve it. and because i’m supposed to.”

you smiled big, your heart hammering in your chest as you slung your leg across his lap and straddled him then, megumi’s hands instantly coming to settle on your waist as you gave him a cute wicked look.

“i’m tired of talking about him, but you know what else you’re supposed to do?”

the side of his lip curled.

“what pretty baby.”

“make out with me.”

he laughed, a shiny smile on his face as he reached a hand up and brushed your hair over your shoulder, cupping your face after and bringing you down to his level.

“if you tell me you love me.”

you giggled.

“i love you gumi.”

megumi brought you in then and kissed you, light little smacks and wet lips parting and moving as your noses brushed against each other’s delicately, his thumb running gently over your cheek as you readjusted and leaned in, deepening the kiss and megumi parting his lips wider as a result to drink more of you down.

your hips subconsciously rutted downward, him taking a sharp breath in through his nose as he responded and lifted his crotch up, meeting with yours and grinding sensually with every steamy exchange of your soft plush lips on his, both of his hands quickly going down to grab your smooth thighs and knead them.

megumi suddenly slid a fast hand up your chunky sweater to cup your tit, you squeaking and trying to pull your lips off of his so you could speak, but him only chasing after your mouth and trapping you in.

“wait what if— mmph!—” 

“hm?” 

he forced your hips down again and you both moaned at the stimulation.

“what if someone walks by there’s a— fuck— there’s a few cars not too far—”

“don’t care.”

“gumi!—”

he yanked your bra cup down and your tit spilled out, his head diving in under your sweater and popping your nipple in his mouth, both of your hips still grinding and rocking against each others as you dazedly tried to look around for any passing people.

you tried to pull off and megumi yanked your other bra cup down, jerking you roughly to him as your weight gave out underneath you and you basically fell on him, his face fully submerged and stuffed in your puffy tits that he nearly lost it and came in his pants.

lewd slobbering sounds filled the car as he sucked and laid his tongue flat all over your boobs, your shuttering gasps and whines making his dick rock fucking solid in his pants as he continued to make out with your chest, relishing in the feeling of your panties running up and down his crotch and your pretty little skirt exposing your ass.

“baby i’m flashing the city please—”

“m’gonna stick my dick in.”

“no!” you whined, your clit pulsing with every rut from his hips. “when we get home when we get home please it’ll be so obvious we’re having sex if we do—”

he bit the fat of your tit and you yelped.

“it’s our anniversary.”

“i— i know gumi but there’s people!—”

he groaned and let your tits go with a pop, head falling back on the pillows as he looked at you with a dead look— knowing you were completely and absolutely right but refusing to believe it because he was fucking horny, the only conscious brain cell that he had left telling him to just wait and that he’d actually cum in his pants if he kept going.

a tiny smirk spread across his face.

“thought you texted me that i could take you to pound town in the backseat of my car.” 

you blushed, totally forgetting you did that.

“y—yes but—”

“and that you were gonna send me a picture of your tits.”

“i—”

“you lying to me baby?”

“no!” you sputtered. “no gumi we’re still gonna have sex just not here!”

he laughed loudly and nodded, pinching your cheek as he fixed your bra and pulled your sweater down, sitting up a bit.

“i’m kidding s’okay.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “m’taking pictures of you when we get to my apartment though.”

“huh?!” you exclaimed, your face buzzing with embarrassment but need at the same time. “what— what kind—”

he poked your side. 

“naked.”

your jaw dropped.

“legs spread with—”

“okay i get it i get it!—”

you slapped your hands over his mouth and muffled the rest of his sentence, desperate to get him to stop.

“i have your gift i have your gift open your gift!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and licked his slimy tongue on your palms, you snatching your hands away and giggling as you wiped them on his sweater.

“i told you not to get me anything.”

“too bad!” you grinned, pecking his cheek before swinging yourself off of his lap and reaching into the passengers seat. “close your eyes!”

he sighed softly, a small smile on his face as he complied, hearing slight tissue paper rustlings and things moving before he felt you next to him again.

“okay open!”

his long lashes lifted, eyes growing soft at the ginormous basket you made him— his favorite candies and chips neatly propped up inside with a little baseball teddy bear that had ‘cool baseball man’ embroidered across its jersey, a framed silly picture of the two of you from one of the nights you slept over at his place, various volumes of his current favorite manga wrapped in black tissue paper along with a lego race car set, and a separate shoe box next to the basket— a brand new pair of baseball cleats that he had been specifically eyeing and needing to buy, and knowing that it was ridiculously expensive too as his bulging eyes shot up to your giddy ones.

“baby—” his words got caught in his throat, shaking his head. “baby thank you but you didn’t have to get anything seriously—”

“the fuck.” you snorted. “yes i did! do you likeeee?”

you pushed the shoe box towards him.

“did i get the right ones? these are the cleats you’ve been wanting right?”

he nodded dumbly. “y—yeah but they’re expensive i don’t want you spending this much.”

“gumi money is a social construct.” you smiled. “but my love for you isn’t… it’s bible! happy anniversary!”

megumi looked down and slowly took the little grizzly bear out of the basket, everything you gave him absolutely perfect and filled with the things he loved, but the custom bear with the nickname you always called him— the same one he adored ever since you first said it, somehow pulling at his heart strings more than anything else.

“i love you.” he mumbled. “thank you.”

you beamed, leaning over and pecking his lips.

“because you do everything for me gumi.” you spoke. “i can’t thank you enough for the things you do for me… and i love you.”

a cute pink blush rose to his cheeks as his gaze stayed locked on the bear, feeling his throat closing up from how much you were affecting him at the moment.

he sent you a smile.

“can i give you mine?”

you stopped.

“what? i thought the pretty tulips were my gift?”

he snorted, giving you a look.

“no you dummy.” 

he reached under one of the seats, pulling gift bag after gift bag after gift bag from somewhere as he placed them all in a line in front of you, a shocked look on your face as you looked at the amount of tissue paper and packaging that was in your line of sight.

“holy shit.” you flashed him a growing dazzling smile. “are you— for me? actually?”

he nodded.

“guummiii!!” you flung your arms around his neck and pulled him in a tight hug, rubbing your cheek on his head side to side in a silly way before you let go and sat back on your ankles again, him chuckling at your excitement.

“i don’t even—” your eyes darted around. “i don’t even know which one—”

one by one you unraveled each wrapping and tore open each bag, your lap filling up with things that you fucking loved as you tried not to cry between opening each gift— pretty intricate coquette bottled perfumes that you liked to collect everywhere as you knew they were also a pretty penny (so him complaining about his cleats was dumb), cute mary jane pumps and makeup you needed as well as new that you’d been wanting, silver and gold sparkling jewelry that resided in small boxes and wrapped in pretty pink bows, sweaters and cute tops and just fucking everything as you ended up a crying snotting mess at the end of it anyways, him laughing at you.

because each item were things that you needed, things that you knew he couldn’t have possibly known unless he was truly paying attention to the things you were saying and the things you were looking at… this moment proving that he most definitely was.

and a crazy wicked amount too— because some of the items in front of you were even things you had merely mentioned once and done with, accompanied by others that you babbled on about whenever you could.

“gumi we can have sex right now let’s have sex i don’t care—”

he laughed for the millionth time and shot his hands out, literally trying to pull you off of him as you lunged and leaned your entire weight on him, practically fighting him by the end of it as you giggled and tried to get in his pants.

“you’re harassing me.” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“like you don’t do this to me everyday of my living life— eek!”

megumi bit your cheek and you pushed on his chest to get him away, him not budging as his nibbling travelled down to your neck as you gasped for air laughing at how much that was tickling you, and him knowing that was what usually set you off into a giggle fit, your stomach aching and him dodging your hits and swings, but both of your hearts full from a days worth of complete and utter unconditional love.

and neither of you would have it any other way as you shared the food and pastries you bought, stuffing your faces full of chocolates and mochi specifically as you both had insane sweet tooth’s and weren’t ashamed of it, chatted on about future plans and your excitement for megumi and the upcoming world series, and you elated for the holiday season too that was fast approaching, your little mind already thinking of gifts and plans and decisions because your boyfriend’s birthday was coming up as well.

and you wanted to do everything you possibly could to make it special.

for he made you feel that everyday.

especially now in this moment, the little heart shaped lunchbox cake you bought with ‘happy 2nd anniversary’ in cursive still looking fucking delicious even after you and megumi had just downed an entire pack of brownies, megumi lightning up the number two candle as you pushed it in the cake, and the both of you sweetly pecking lips as you held up the cake in between the two of you and him snapping a picture with his phone— candid and lovely and everything you’d both ever wanted in your lives rightfully yours right then and there.

happiness. love. 

and your hearts were swelling with everything you had built for the past two years, and swelling in anticipation for the hopes and curiosity of what else the two of you would continue to build… something you only hoped would last forever and ever and that you got to count and spend even more anniversaries with megumi from this point forward.

with nothing less, nothing extra, and just like this.

for a million more november’s to come.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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[lowkeyren]

in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.

wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.

ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!! ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!

PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)

the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar. 

alhaitham. 

the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%. 

you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal. 

(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)

disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win? 

anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.

though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings. 

ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU. 

alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him. 

that was what he always believed, but then he saw you. 

the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.

as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.

(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)

when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)

likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with. 

he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.

by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.

but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.

(they are.)

ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.

your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.

unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.

you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.

his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.

with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away. 

“what was that about?”

alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway. 

you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”

“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.” 

his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.” “seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”

“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó…  nó quyến rũ vô cùng.” because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.

you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.

“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.” so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.

his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.

“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?” but… none of them can compare to me, right?

your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you. 

his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.

feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.

his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”

your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.

"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."

he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.

"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”

your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.

alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”

“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.” because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.

why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!

you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.

ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.

you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.

there’s still time till your next class.

maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…

did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.

he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.

without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake. 

for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.

instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow. 

you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?

“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath. 

you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.

you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window. 

alhaitham. 

he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why? 

you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”

“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”

you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”

his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”

a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”

he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”

you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.

“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.

“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.” if anything, i think highly of you. 

your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”

“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.

the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”

despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.

“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.” good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.

you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.

cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.

the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.

ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.

the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears. 

when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.

there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.

alhaitham.

you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.

you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.

you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.

it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from. 

at this moment,

"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.

he feels like

there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

he's in heaven.

it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?

"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin." your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.

“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile. 

the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”

your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.

“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.

each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—

"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo." —like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you. 

your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”

his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.

two strange things happened today: 

1. you finally beat your sworn enemy! 2. said enemy… complimented you? 

huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.

behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.

“gago… nagkamali ba ako?” stupid… did i make a mistake?

to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still. 

“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!” 

"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.

just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”

alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.

“i’m leaving.” 

"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”

“you’re outnumbered.” 

alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.

(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)

ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.

“i think alhaitham likes [name].”

the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?” 

across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening. 

cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”

kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”

right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.

oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her. 

(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)

“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially.  “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”

kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.

“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”

sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could. 

for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.

his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.

for him, it’s a language without words.

dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."

and what sealed their suspicions? 

definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”

alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”

oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.

alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.

the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.  

now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.

“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”

“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.

—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.

...make that 110%.

(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)

ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE. 

the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.  

he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.

"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl. 

"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.

“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.

"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.

unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.

he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."

you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”

"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."

your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance. 

alhaitham. 

you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.

"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.

alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.

his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave." 

the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”

alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction. 

the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.

but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold. 

“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”

the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you. 

"are you alright?"

you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you." 

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.

streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.

"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."

your stomach twists with guilt.

"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.

he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.

"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."  

you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."  

"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.

the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.

you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.

“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.” if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.

your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.

misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?

the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear. 

“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.” "—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."

your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle. “suǒ yǐ nǐ dān xīn wǒ… nǐ shì bù shì gù yì ràng rén xīn dòng de?” “so you're worried about me… are you purposely trying to make my heart race?”

his words only make you more flustered, and you find yourself fumbling to fix the bandage. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to—”

his chuckle only grows softer, and you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. “it’s fine.”

you quickly finish adjusting the bandage, trying to focus on anything other than how your heart is now racing. (ironically) 

“you seem flustered,” he comments casually, as if he isn’t the one who just made your head spin. “did i say something wrong?”

you shake your head quickly, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "no, not at all.”

his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"nǐ bù bì yǎn shì, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ hài xiū de yàng zǐ, tǐng kě ài de.” “you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”

(oh this bastard!!!!)

you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?

after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.

he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.

“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."

you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.

you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.

it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket. 

intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting. 

ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

To [Name],  I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry. Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.  You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more. Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved. You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.  If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession. Even now, I’m still a coward for you. So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall. Helplessly,  Alhaitham. 

you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.

tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it. 

alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay. 

(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)

of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.

for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.

ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. 

“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”

ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.

“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”

maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.

“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”

how so? 

if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?

you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.

the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.

in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.

“haitham.”

the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours. 

his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?

“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.” 

“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”

you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue. 

“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.

“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."

suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops,  until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.

his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.

“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”

you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.

his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm. 

it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”

you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.

“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”

reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin. 

“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.” i love you too, alhaitham.

a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.

you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.

“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”

slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it. 

“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.” there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.

his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.

“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub. 

nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”

kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.

“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”

“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”

tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”

“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)

…

“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.

(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?” 

alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."

you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)

EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.

“how long?”

you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”

you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?” 

his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”

“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?" do you have any idea what you’ve done?

"mas lalong umibig sakin?" made you fall in love with me even more?

you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.

“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.

you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.

in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.

you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.

“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."

he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.” 

"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”

he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly. 

“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.” sure, just wait till i buy the ring.

"wh—" 

he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"

you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”

his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.

this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx

vietnamese — @https-sourlimes tagalog / filipino — @vxnuslogy arabic — @ughscara chinese, japanese — me! ty @mitsvriii for proofreading, love u all <3

and thank you for reading!!

MASTERLIST.

[pathologicalreid]

losing you | s.r.

in which you being in danger in the field elicits a response from Spencer that you're not used to - anger

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, jareau!reader, fear of abandonment, fighting word count: 1.67k a/n: i really didn't like this one at first but turns out now i really enjoy it lol. it's hard for me to dislike anything jareau!reader. anyways, setting this up to post while i chemically straighten my hair, i hope you enjoy!

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and casually leaning against the doorframe. A bored expression planted on his face as he watched you dump your dirty laundry out of your go-bag and begin to shove clean clothes inside.

You huffed, slamming a dresser drawer shut as you shoved socks into your otherwise empty duffle, “I’m going to stay with JJ tonight.” Avoiding his gaze, you proceeded to pack away your underwear—four pairs for an overnight trip.

Slowly, he meandered over to the bed, sitting on the ledge and watching you, “I think we should talk about this.” He told you, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“I agree,” you responded, checking your toiletry kit to ensure you had everything you needed to get through the next twenty-four hours—or more if the team got called off on a new case while you were with your sister.

Spencer frowned at your response, “You agree, but you’re still packing to leave.” He turned his head to follow you as you floated around the room, tossing miscellaneous clothes in your bag.

Nodding, you zipped your go-bag shut, buttoning an additional closure before turning back to face Spencer. “You’re angry with me, and I think we could have a more productive conversation with each other tomorrow after you sleep on it.”

“And I think we need to get our thoughts out now before it turns into a bigger issue. Internalizing emotions like you’re suggesting isn’t healthy,” Spencer challenged, following you as you walked to the front door, setting your bag on the console before searching around for the right pair of shoes. “And now you’re just walking out,” he griped, gesturing over to the shoe rack.

Your head snapped up at that remark, “Hey, I am not just ‘walking out.’” Your gaze narrowed at him as you nearly stumbled over your own feet.

The knot between his brows loosened at your expression, and for a moment, you weren’t in the midst of a disagreement. For a moment, the two of you were two kids who had been walked out on. “No,” Spencer said, his voice softer than it had just been, “You’re right. That was a poor choice of words and I’m sorry.”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you paused your efforts to leave the apartment and took a deep breath. “I made a split-second decision, and it ended up saving a little girl’s life. I don’t regret it, but I do regret the way it scared you.”

Spencer kept a firm distance from you, even if you reached out an arm, you wouldn’t be able to touch him. “You should have listened to Hotch; there’s no reason that you should’ve done… that.”

“You weren’t there, Spencer! If you had seen the way he was holding that gun to her temple… if you had heard the way she was crying out for her mom, then maybe you’d understand why I took her place,” you told him, shifting uncomfortably on your feet.

Spencer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “There had to have been another option, Y/N.”

Maybe there was, but part of your FBI training had been on making snap decisions, and this was just another example. “So, you think I should’ve let him keep that gun to the little girl’s head?”

“No,” Spencer answered, dragging out his vowel. “I just would have rather not seen a gun to my girlfriend’s head instead.”

You halted, eyes widening in alarm as you shifted to a newfound frustration, “Right,” you sniped, “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His eyes flashed with recognition, and you knew that he was well aware of what you were referring to. Last month when he had his face off with Cat Adams, leading to her pointing a gun at his head while he proceeded to egg her on. You’d given him a mouthful the next day, and you weren’t afraid to do it again, “That was a completely different set of circumstances.”

Cocking your head to the side, your nostrils flared, “Was it?” You ask sardonically, “A serial killer pointing a loaded gun to your head sounds pretty fucking similar to me!”

“At least I stayed to talk to you about it instead of running away,” he snapped, both of you escalating in the ways you knew how. You raised your voice while he resorted to the cutting edge in his voice.

You held your hands out to your sides helplessly, “Do I need to put in for a transfer or something? Is this that big of an issue to you?” You could barely stomach the idea of leaving the BAU, but at this point, losing Spencer would be worse than joining a new department.

“No,” he answered instantly, “The problem here is that you don’t think before you act.”

You held up your hand, “I think before everything I do, and I’m sorry that my synapses don’t fire a million times a minute, and I can’t calculate the probability of every outcome beforehand, but I did the best I fucking could with the time I was given.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows curiously, “The best you could? A Glock to your temple was the best you could do?”

“Fuck you! Why don’t you have any trust in my abilities in the field? Why do you all of a sudden do you think I can’t do my job?” You demanded, chest rising and falling with anger as you glared across the room at him.

Spencer flinched at the accusation, the idea that he was just as bad as all of the people who assumed you only got your job because of your sister—the kind of people Spencer used to defend you from. “I didn’t… you’re perfectly capable—”

“But not good enough for the BAU? Not good enough to be a profiler, surely,” You interrupted him. “You know what I think, Spencer? I think you’re scared. I think seeing a gun to my head frightened you, and you’re taking it out on me because I’m the only vessel that you can snipe at and know they won’t leave you entirely.”

His posture changed then, leaning against the back of the couch as he absorbed your words, “You’re an incredible profiler, honey. The team is lucky to have you, you know that.”

Your shoulders slumped forward in response, “Then why the hostility? Why did you snap at me in front of everyone as soon as you found out the gun wasn’t loaded?” You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you studied his facial expressions for an answer. When you offered to take the little girl’s place, you were under the impression that the gun was loaded, and when the rest of the team caught up with you, they were under the same guise.

It wasn’t revealed that the chamber was empty until JJ made the shot that took out the UnSub, and Spencer had been all over you with worry one moment and wanted nothing to do with you the next.

“Did you feel like your worry wasn’t warranted?” You asked when he remained silent, “Like it was a waste of emotion when I wasn’t in any real danger?”

Spencer shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest self-consciously as you forced him to look at his behavior objectively, “You were always in danger, Y/N. The way he was watching you, the grip that he had on you…”

The UnSub gripped your hip so fiercely that he had almost taken you down with him when he was shot, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises marring your skin when you changed out of your work clothes. “I saved that little girl, Spence. That’s the deal, right? ‘I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.’” You quoted your oath to him, the same one he had taken, “At that moment, it was my duty to save that little girl. She went home to her parents today because of me.”

“You’re right,” he said, any evidence of malice washed from his tone. “You were incredible. You were fearless, and it scared the shit out of me,” he told you. “I—” he faltered, “I’m sorry,” he said, approaching you the way you would a wounded animal.

You shook your head when he held out his hands for you, leaving your arms stiffly at your sides and shaking your head, “No, Spence.”

Despite your protests, he pulled you into an embrace anyway; your body was resistant to him, the way his warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against his body. “Please don’t go,” he whispered. “Be mad at me, make me sleep on the couch, but please don’t leave,” he murmured.

Your cheek was pressed against his chest, the wool lapel of his suit jacket scratching against your skin as tears flooded your field of vision. As much as you wanted to resist, this was Spencer. Instinctively, you nuzzled your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and taking a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to lose you,” he told you.

Fear of loss. Spencer had been terrified to see a gun to your head, but the thought of having to watch you leave the apartment you shared in order to get away from him was petrifying. “I have to call my sister,” you told him, your voice muffled by his jacket.

One hand was on your waist, the other on the back of your head, fingers threaded into your hair, “Why?”

“To let her know I’m not coming,” you muttered. “She’ll worry, and it seems I’ve caused enough of that today,” you told him, appreciating the heat that emanated from Spencer as he looped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if that’s all he’d ever needed.

[xlatrina]

Show Me

Tags: 16(+)* (*Minor kissing, nothing crazy fr), Gender Neutral Reader (despite canon), Words of Affirmation/Sweet Talk, basically fluff

Not proofread so… hopefully no typos or clunky sentences anywhere lol. Mr. Crawling is being “high-maintenance,” as always, lol. After playing this game for HOURS, I just couldn’t help but crave more content. Buuuutt, given that the game is more or less finished (as far as I understand), I simply had no other choice but to do as writers who play VNs do and WRITE. This is my first “Canon x Reader” fic (well, formally, at least) too, so… please be kind 😅 Anywho, enjoy!

$$$ $$$ $$$

Mr. Crawling leaps into your arms with such speed that the bed smacks into the wall. A shake travels through the room, jostling the single photo hanging from the gray, textured surface. His hair falls against your skin, the bed sinking in a bit as you feel his body drag over your own. Every breath that reaches your face is cool, no thanks to the room you’re in.

“I enjoy you,” He chirps. His head comes to rest in the crook of your neck. The smell of metal fills your nose, and you scowl for a moment before your face relaxes. It’s a smell you'll simply have to get used to, especially now that you’ve promised to be his.

His body ever so slightly warms yours, though the blankets do more of the work. “I enjoy you,” he says again. “You enjoy me?”

“I enjoy you, Mr. Crawling.” You loosely run a hand through his dark hair. Surprisingly, your fingers only get caught about twice, and the small knots aren’t too hard to pull apart.

“You lots enjoy me?” Suddenly, the cold draft flying through hits your neck as Mr. Crawling lifts his head. Though, you never see his eyes: only the growing festers that conveniently disappear right at his bangs. He tenses in your arms, and you’d think the air froze him or something if it weren’t for his soft, whistling breaths. Mustering up a little smile, you cup his face with your hands.

“I lots enjoy you.” He giggles like a little schoolgirl, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Show!” He shouts.

“Huh?”

“I enjoy you, you enjoy me. Am happy lots you come here. I lots enjoy you being together me. You say you lots enjoy me, Ϛօ show!” He bursts each sentence out right after the other, and the bed squeaks from his shifting body as his arms reach around your torso. Show… Ah, that’s what he meant. He wants you to prove it.

For a moment, you frown. How exactly were you supposed to “prove” something like that?

Noticing your face, Mr. Crawling frowns as well. “You ok? No want to do?”

You shake your head and smile reassuringly. “I want to do. I can show you.” This shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it’ll be easy… so long as Mr. Crawling doesn’t decide to use those sharp teeth of his.

Pulling him forward by his face, you two stare at each other. You focus on Mr. Crawling —first, his gaze, somewhere behind that curtain of hair, and then his lips. They’re ever so slightly purple, just like his cheeks that have become a little warmer while pressed against your palms.

Your eyelids lower as your lips graze his, the small sensation alone sending a shock throughout your body. Is Mr. Crawling feeling the same way? He’s tense all over again. “You ok?” You ask.

Quietly, he responds, “Am ok.”

You close your eyes, breathing in that slightly metallic smell. You exhale, and then pull Mr. Crawling firmly into your kiss. He remains stiff for a while until a muffled sound escapes him. His arms wrap around you tighter. He finally allows his body to fall limp against yours, and just as this happens, you pull back. A little smack bounces through the room. Lying upon your chest, Mr. Crawling drags himself a little closer to your face. Seizing the opportunity, one hand reaches to brush across his hair and the other remains on his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his face in slow, winding circles. Then, you pull his face even closer, catching him into a trap as you lock lips again. Both of you hum contentedly, the sound only accompanied by smacks and the fluorescent light buzzing above. Suckling his bottom lip, you tease him with a strong pull. He sighs into your kiss, and when you finally free him, he chases you.

“… Finished?” He asks. He seems to be pouting a little, already missing the sensation.

“Finished. You now know I enjoy you?” You ask. More or less: do you believe me now?

Mr. Crawling pauses, and then he giggles —much louder than before! He plops his head into the crook of your neck again.

“I know now,” he says. You bring your hand up to join the other in stroking his hair.

The two of you lie together this way for a while, enjoying the silence and the closeness. That is, until you eventually fall asleep and Mr. Crawling leaves your embrace to watch from afar.

[ohodie]

SETTLE DOWN!

luke castellan x reader

★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”

ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.

WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol

A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3

WC - 3.7k words

it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.

maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.

this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.

it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.

curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.

you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.

it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.

truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.

whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.

after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.

“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.

you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.

luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.

“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.

luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”

“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.

luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.

luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?

a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.

luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.

you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.

your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.

you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.

things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.

“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.

“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”

luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.

as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.

if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.

maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.

in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.

for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.

you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.

“are you okay luke?”

“i heard you were in a coma!”

“we thought you were a goner,”

luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.

with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.

he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.

but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.

2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.

you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.

“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.

luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.

you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”

luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”

you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.

“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.

“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.

that was the moment when you realised something.

you can play dirty.

not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.

you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.

“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.

he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.

you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.

luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.

obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.

but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.

luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.

“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.

“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”

luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.

he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”

you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.

“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.

“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.

luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.

you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.

“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.

he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.

the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?

why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?

you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.

luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.

you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.

“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.

“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.

luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.

“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.

you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.

his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.

after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.

“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.

luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.

“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.

you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.

the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.

“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.

“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.

you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.

needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?

[blkkizzat]

PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ 𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟒 — 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚, 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: nov 13th, 9:54 pm ⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞: eau du pussy (pussy scent lol) + dubcon + dumbification + riding + teasing + choking + brat!reader + trueform!sukuna ⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 2872

Bored out of your mind and fighting the urge to fidget, you stand stationed to Sukuna’s left, Uraume silently positioned on his right like the picture perfect little servant they are. The minutes drag like hours—forty-five excruciatingly dull minutes of Sukuna entertaining sorcerers and curses groveling for his favor. You still couldn’t fathom why he insists on you being present for these pathetic displays, but nonetheless here you are, trapped in the circus of his ego.

Watching paint dry would be more amusing—it certainly wouldn’t smell as bad!

That’s because most of the unfortunate souls asking anything of Sukuna ended up charred to ash. Their brittle bones joining in the ever-growing pile beneath his throne—a macabre monument to the grim fate awaiting anyone who'd dare to waste his time. (Even though he clearly had no qualms about wasting yours). On the rare occasion someone left alive it was only because Sukuna deemed them marginally worthwhile, but even that was a gamble.

Shifting your weight, you feel the numbing tingle of pins and needles creeping up your legs. The acrid stench of burnt flesh, human and otherwise, triggers a wave of nausea as you try really hard not to openly gag.

'Your lack of even the smallest semblance of willpower or decorum is rather impressive, woman.'

The words echo in your head—one of Sukuna’s favorite digs, thrown your way anytime your bemoaning broke through the limits of his patience. You know Sukuna relishes the sight of you squirming, and at this point, you were convinced the only reason he had you stand here in the first place was for his personal amusement. 

How Uraume tolerated the royal asshole willingly for over a millennia, you’d never understand.

But this time, you endured it better, biting back a smirk as the faintest edge of satisfaction bubbles beneath your boredom. 

For once, you had a bit of leverage.

The irony is delicious. The same word he used to mock you—willpower—had been key to goading him into cucking himself for ‘No Nut November.’

Of course The King of Curses didn’t give a damn about mortal bets, but when you teased him, implying he was far too “pussy-whipped” to go a month without fucking you, the nerve you struck was impossible for him to ignore. His pride wouldn’t let it slide, and so, with a sharp sneer, he’d agreed to the terms.

Sukuna had declared it would be effortless. He was, after all, above such mortal temptations—or so he claimed.

Except he wasn’t.

On the surface, Sukuna appeared to be doing quite an admirable job of not missing your pretty lil' pussy, but you could see the invisible cracks forming. His temper, already infamous, had grown even more volatile—if such a thing were possible— and while his mounting frustrations were subtle, it was impossible to miss for those who dare notice.

You and Uraume were likely the only ones who could comment on it without risking immediate dismemberment, but neither of you are foolish enough to point it out directly. Keeping your limbs didn’t mean you wouldn’t pay for the remark.

Holding back your amusement, a quick glance at Sukuna confirmed what you already knew. A prominent vein on his forehead, which had become increasingly more pronounced as the month wore on, is now pulsing angrily. Sukuna’s brimming disinterest, betrayed by narrowing eyes, signals his impatience with the curse before him.

You didn’t need the ability to see into the future to know the groveling curse doesn’t have much of one left—you’d give it 3 to 5 minutes tops.

Fed up with the same song and dance, you sought any distraction wherever you could find it. This time, it came in the form of your sparkly new manicure. The pearlescent pink gel shimmered under the flickering torchlight, a tiny masterpiece of your own creation. 

Rarely allowed to leave this wretched place, you’d taught yourself how to apply your own gel nails to combat the intense monotony of palace life with Sukuna. At least something could sparkle prettily in Sukuna’s oppressively dreary throne room.

You wave your hand out in front of you, smiling to yourself in satisfaction, you honestly really out did yourself on your latest gel set you’d really have to—

“WOMAN!”

Sukuna's ferocious bark shakes the room and snaps your attention back to him. 

“Huh?”

Ignoring the cowering curse entirely, the wrath in Sukuna’s crimson eyes locks onto you with a dangerous glint, his scrutiny intensifying at your airheaded response.

With a single clawed finger, Sukuna beckons you forward. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes as you reluctantly ascend the treacherous steps of bones and ash leading up to his throne. The crushing force of Sukuna’s cursed energy bears down on the room is suffocating and everyone's attention is on you. 

Once in front of him, Sukuna doesn't even give you the opportunity to even ask what this is all about before he strikes. All four of his monstrous arms seize you at once, effortlessly manhandling you into his huge lap, his hands like steer bars bruising your wrists.

“Ow! Quit it, Kuna! I was being good, wasn’t I, Daddy?!”

Sukuna’s eyes flare dangerously at you causally addressing him in such a way, but he doesn’t bother to berate you for it—not when his current audience won’t live to leave this room and tell anyone how a mere human woman dared to address The King of Curses himself.

Sukuna's restraint, however, has its limits. 

Especially when he already has something much better to punish you for. With a swift tug, he yanks you closer, pressing your small hand to his face. A deep inhale follows, his keen senses confirming his suspicions.

“Oh, were you now brat?”

The wicked curve of his lips promises nothing good for you—nevertheless, it sends your heart racing with equal parts dread and excitement.

Sukuna's tone assumes a low drawl, vibrating in his chest with sinister amusement. The soundwaves ripple down your spine causing your core to quiver and dampen.

“Then explain this filthy scent your duplicitous little fingers are drenched in, brat.”

Oop! Busted.

But even with you trapped in his cruel hands— a hold that has so easily snapped hundreds like meaningless twigs—you couldn’t resist the urge to sass him. Poking the monstrous beast was a game you never grew tired of.

“Why, my sweet lil’ pussy juices, my king.” 

You purr softly with an impish grin, looking up at Sukuna seductively under your long babydoll lashes. 

“Whyever do you ask?”

Sukuna’s eyes widen devilishly, pure amusement dripping from him, though the promise of retribution edges on his words.

“Tsk, so you concede, woman? You admit you lack the willpower to stand obediently—like you lack the couth not to touch that shameless, manipulative cunt of yours.”

“Aht-aht, don’t forget tight—”

Winding your hips over the growing bulge under his robes, you feel Sukuna’s control unravel by the second. Twin cocks stirring beneath you, his reaction betrays him now as much as the lingering scent on your fingers betrayed you earlier.

A low purr slips from your lips, soft and alluring, a deliberate tickle to Sukuna’s heightened senses.

“My tight, shameless, manipulative cunt—you remember her, don’t you, my King? Remember how nice she feels?”

The air is thick with tension as you revel in the thrill of pushing him. Your half-lidded eyes, framed by your impossibly long babydoll lashes, cast a sultry gaze that only adds to the tease. 

“Watch it, Brat.”

You knew full well you were playing with fire—the most dangerous kind at that. Yet the peril only fueled your arousal with every calculated, yet foolish, risk you take with Sukuna. Being with Sukuna was playing a constant gamble with your life— and yet never failed to get you entirely soaking.

“Awe Daddy, don’t get mad cause you didn’t understand the rules. It’s called ‘No Nut November’ not ‘No Squirt November’—”

Sukuna’s red eyes glow red as a primal snarl escapes him.

He allows you just enough freedom to shift in his grasp, your body falling forward to press your tits against his chest while his claws dig into your flesh, dangerously close to breaking skin. Fully bricked, Sukuna's twin cocks are throbbing against your ass their heat and size impossible to ignore.

With a smile you seal your fate with one last taunting remark, faux innocence threading through your sinful words. 

“—ya know, you having blue balls for the month wasn’t contingent on my pussy staying dry, Kuna. As your dutiful servant I have to keep both holes stretched and ready for when you eventually crack, don’t I?”

And that was that.

It was truly your fault you ended up in this situation. 

You couldn't blame anyone else but your slick-ass mouth writing checks for your ass and pussy they could barely afford to cash.

But this was something you did on purpose too, huh?

It just so happened that Uraume had come to you in confidence asking to end this silly 'NNN' farce—they’d be your errand runner for an entire month if you’d just fuck Sukuna calm again—well as calm as a volitle curse like Sukuna could be.

And okay while Uraume didn't use those exact words, it was still something to the effect of ‘the lack of mating making Sukuna truly unbearable and they would run whatever errands you wanted in Tokyo if you’d put an end to it.’

Granted, Uraume never told you to take things this far.

But the toxic side of you, the ‘sassy brat with a death wish’ as Sukuna deems you, did want to see exactly how much you could get away with.

Well, you were alive and also still in one piece—which is far more than you can say for the pretty lilac yukata and panties you had worn, reduced to shreds before you could blink. Naked and exposed, Sukuna’s vice-like hands envelop your waist threatening to leave a permanent imprint as he slams you down onto his girthy twin-cocks. 

Both lengths stretch and fill your holes to the absolute limit—your flimsy fingers clearly not enough prep to compensate for the 12 days you’d gone without him and his monstrous cocks. Convinced he was tearing you in half, there's nothing your aching pussy and ass could do but take it when he bottoms out. The sheer size of his lengths violating every sensitive spot inside you as a well of drool to spills over your lips.

Of course, Sukuna doesn’t care if you've yet to adjust. 

The sting of tears in your eyes pales in comparison to the searing burn deep in your womb as your ass slams down onto his muscular thighs, the mix of pleasure and pain almost unbearable. Welts bloom across your skin from the mouths on his hands puncturing your tingling curves. Their sharp teeth dig in deeper as he grips you tighter, guiding you to bounce on him.

Your fresh manicure chips as your nails rake down his massive thighs in a desperate attempt to find support. With your feet braced between his manspread thighs and your limbs trembling from the strain, you're forcefully fucked stupid on his twin cocks, every thrust leaving you closer to the edge of madness.

Honestly, your mind broke the second he bullied them in, you’re purely on autopilot now.

“Looks like I have to teach this insolent little cunt some manners again. Though look how eager she is for her punishment—both holes at that.”

Sukuna’s voice rumbles through you with raw untamed hunger as his heavy hand slaps down on your stuffed pussy.  "HHNNNNGHHHH!!"

Choking on your own spittle from the overwhelming sensations, gurgles of ecstasy echo from you. 

The obscene noise of flesh colliding against flesh is heard throughout Sukuna’s throne room, mingling with your wanton cries. Sukuna times his hips upward with your descent on his cocks, ensuring you wouldn't be able to run with not an inch of him left unsheathed. 

Winding you up like a child’s toy, Sukuna delivers a smack to your ass telling you to keep going as he leaves you to it. Carrying on with terrifying nonchalance, Sukuna welcomes in the remaining petitioners as though you weren't dramatically impaling yourself on his cocks. Those who dared let their eyes linger on the spectacle of your tremoring bouncing body and face twisted in pure euphoria for too long were immediately dismantled—their remains scattering across the floor in a gruesome display of Sukuna’s wrath.

As much as Sukuna reveled in his humiliation of you, he was still insanely jealous. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to oogle you so lustfully in front of him. Like a skilled succubus the temptation you presented isn't easy to ignore and Sukuna soon finds himself killing nearly everyone who entered before they even opened their mouths. 

“Look back at me, whore. Keep your attention on your King.” 

Sukuna’s command is swimming in possessiveness but you can’t even process how jealous he is while he’s fucking your brain so perfectly smooth. You obey, although reduced to delirious sugary giggles and coos while you ride him. Your head tilting back, taking your eyes with it, you part your lips wide and stick out your tongue expectantly. 

“AAHHHHH~”

Sukuna feigns a scoff although he is thoroughly amused by how far you'd debase yourself on his cocks and so willingly too. You are far from humiliated. If anything the excitement of being watched makes you cream on him harder. Rewarding your slutty ways, Sukuna spits a fat wad of his saliva directly into your mouth. Cunt clenching around him wildly, you swallow it eargery asking for more with lewd flicks of your tongue.

“Just a nasty fucking girl, aren't you?” 

Driving up into you harder, Sukuna’s snarl has your entire body vibrating. The tongues on his burly palms swirl over your swollen areolas making your toes curl deliciously.

“Imagine a bratty slut like you the gall to call me pussy-whipped when you fall apart so easily on my cocks?”

His large hand pressed firmly against your belly, a feral growl escaping him as he felt the bulge his cock made inside you, his balls tightening painfully ready for release. 

“Now speak properly. Tell me where my pretty lil’ whore wants it.”

Sukuna taunts you knowing how you can't find words and yet somehow, because he had commanded it, you find the will to speak again. Your feeble whimpers of pleasure are near incoherent.

“I-Insiiiiiide—pluh-lease, hnnnng—wan' it s' bad, Daddy-AHHHH!!”

Your pace slows as your limbs begin to give out and Sukuna doesn't waste time scooping you up to fold you in half. His arms connect tightly hugging around your knees as your back smushes against the fiery skin of his chest.

One of his extra arms reaches around, delivering a stinging, wet slap to your pussy. The sharp smack sends a jolt through your body, and with a loud shriek, you squirt again more feverishly this time as. your release splashes across his throne. Your fluids even drain down to the floor, trickling down the steps below in rivulets.

Lifting you on his cocks until only the very tips of his fat cockheads hook on the muscles of your holes before sending you plummling back down, making you see pure white heated nirvana.  

“It's only naturally my fiendish lil' slut would want to be bred in front of an audience.” 

Sukuna is dripping with wicked intent, fangs salivating on your neck.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”

His grip moved to your throat, constricting your airflow as he fuckes you with increasing intensity, each brutal thrust wrecking your body like you were nothing more than a doll in his hands. The pressure built unbearably in your core, and with one last, devastating stroke, your orgasm shattered through you, body exploding with shivers rippling through every fiber of your being as you convulse around him.

Sukuna’s twin cocks seize, ready to blow as well, but at the very last moment, he pulls out—hot webby ropes of spunk spill across your back, pooling on his stomach, his throne, the floor—everywhere BUT in your eagerly awaiting pussy.

Blinking confused in a daze, your expression as you glance back at him leaves Sukuna hardily laughing in a wicked glee, looking absolutely diabolical. 

“Awe, poor lil' whore— you realize it’s still ‘No Nut November’, don't you brat?"

Sneering, Sukuna hauls you down to your knees by your hair.

"And I am hearby making new amendments to the rules—I will nut however there will be none being put inside those vile greedy holes of yours."

You whine as your now empty pussy and asshole pulse in disappointment —longing for the feeling of his cum oozing out of them.

Sukuna's twin-cocks, still fully hard and trickling out his cum, are gleaming in the torch light—what a waste!

The expression he wears is nothing short of cruel.

“You want my cum?” 

You moan in confirmation as Sukuna darkly hums.

“Then your treacherous lil' cunt is going to spend the rest of the fucking month proving yourself worthy of it, whore.”

Roughly prodding his cocks against your pretty, yet pathetic, lil' pout Sukuna laughs as you try not to slip on all the fluids at his feet.

“Now, clean me up, slutty lil' brat.”

blkkizzat ©2023-2024 no ai, reposting, plagiarism or translation allowed.

𝐚/𝐧: next 12/15, 6:00 a.m. PST queued geto suguru shhh, sukuna is pussy-whipped and will likely cum in you regardless in less than 24hrs. reblogs and comments make my coochie quake tysm! <3

[chelseeebe]

yours, forever

18+ mdni. smut. mean!exhusband!eddie;) breeding kink if you squint a lil

a/n: i was not expecting to post again so soon but this genuinely couldn’t wait lol. i have another parts to this little piece so lmk if you’d like to see it. someone posted a really really good exhusband!eddie fic like a month ago and ive lost it, but they inspired this entire thing!

^it was this post by @madelynraemunson !!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

eddie wasn’t expecting to find you standing on the other side of the door, nor had he expected you to barge right past him and into his kitchen. 

you seemed to show up with zero rhyme or reason, typically wanting something from him. 

that was fine, appreciated even. 

he just wasn’t a fan of you waltzing into his home with the sole purpose of talking about your pig of a husband. 

“david wanted me to ask you if he could take the kids up to washington to see his parents,” you stand awkwardly at the kitchen island, his apartment a shell of the house you once owned together. 

eddie pauses, launching the dish towel onto the counter and laughs, deep and gravely as he swings back around, “no.” 

“why not?” you huff, blinking expectantly at your petulant ex. he’d always been a sucker for your eyes, divorce couldn’t changed that. 

“because i said so,” leaning against the marbled counter, “he asked you to ask me and i said no, that’s it. done.” 

“you’re being stubborn,” crossing your arms over your chest, scolding in the way you talk to him. 

“i don’t care.”

“eddie,” stepping forward. 

“sweetheart,” his tone disapproving as he also steps up, closing the gap between you, “no,” enunciating the word in hopes that you’d actually understand now. 

“don’t be an asshole,” you frown, a couple years ago you’d pout and get your own way but now eddie found great satisfaction in telling you no.  

“i’m not being an asshole, you asked me a question and i answered, dave can go to washington, but you and my kids can’t,” his lip twitching into a dastardly smirk. any minute now you’d crack, really let loose on his ass. 

“oh, so now i can’t go? who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” poking your sharp finger into his chest, a fury behind your eye that almost instantly made him hard. 

“the father of our kids? or have you forgotten about that?” 

“unfortunately not,” rolling your eyes, nonetheless you make no effort to leave, your bag already on the counter, signifying that what he assumed would happen next was definitely going to happen next. 

“you don’t mean that,” sidling closer, trapping your body between the counter and his chest, “because if you did, you wouldn’t let me keep fucking the shit outta you.”

eddie’s rock solid now, this was foreplay for him, getting high off of the way you argued with him, degrading him right to his face. 

“shut up,” rolling your eyes to the back of your head, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt, “you’re so pathetic,” glancing down at his boner now pressing against your cunt. 

“mmhmm,” he wouldn’t fight it, in fact, he’s proud of it, “only for you though,” finding your hips, palming at the doughy flesh. 

your lips twitch and he knows he’s won this fight, planting your lips to his, a firm hand on his chest just to remind him who was really in charge. 

sighing into your mouth as you move against him, his hands running beneath the seam of your skirt, feeling his way up the backs of your thighs to settle on your ass. 

“eds,” you hum, pulling away from his lips, “i’ve gotta go pick the boys up,” making zero effort to stop the inevitable, your chest flush against his.

“well better make it quick this time then,” he growls, walking your body into the countertop, manhandling your body to face you against the hard counter, pressing up against the swell of your ass. his belt clinks as his jeans fall down around his thighs, boxers following behind. 

“this is.. i have to go,” you gasp, rolling your head back to allow his lips room to find your neck, nuzzling right into his favourite spot just tucked underneath your jaw. 

“then why don’t you leave?” his gruff voice vibrates against your chin as his hands slide underneath your shirt, spilling your tits from your bra to get a full handed grope of them. 

your hand rests atop of his, the other gripping to the countertop for dear life. 

you’re not going to leave, that much is obvious. eddie’s also fairly certain that you’ve got at least an hour before you have to go. he’s not stupid, you play the game just as much as he does, pretending to leave just to pounce on him straight after. 

“that’s what i thought,” sarcastic as ever, threatening to score violet splotches behind on your neck, though his lips detach before he’s able to. 

eddie lets his thoughts slip back to the reason you’re even here, letting himself get frustrated by your blind audacity all over again. 

“you must be fucking stupid coming in here, asking me shit like that,” his large, calloused hand pawing at your tits, the other yanking your panties down to hang around your thighs. 

“no i’m not,” arguing back though you’re completely docile, allowing him to bend your torso over the marbled countertop, his hands groping your plush skin. “he’s my..” sigh, “husband now and you need to- fu-uck respect that,” fingers curling around his arm, pinching at the skin when he slides inside with no warning. 

“what was that?” eddie mocks, slamming into your cunt with little remorse, full of years of pent up frustration and a tiny dose of regret. 

once upon a time, this was his everyday. having you absolutely anywhere he wanted, and now it was solely reserved for times you really needed him to agree to something. or perhaps david had done something stupid, as he often did. sending you running back to eddie like a feeble little deer. 

“shut up,” sighing in time with his rough strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through his barren kitchen, filthy sounds of sex wailed through his apartment far more often than they should. 

before you’d met david, he’d see you once a week while dropping the kids off, maybe he’d get to taste you a couple times a month, if he was lucky. it was only after you remarried that you’d come around unannounced, asking about something that most definitely could’ve been a call. 

eddie doesn’t care, you’re the only woman for him anyway, a couple divorce papers couldn’t change that. 

“you fuckin’ love it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and fiercely tugging your head back, “y’gotta drive all the way over here just to cum, ain’t that sad?” speaking low right into your ear, his arms keeping a strong hold of your torso as your knees grow weak. 

“you don’t.. you’re- fuck you,” knuckles glowing white with your grip on the counter, other hand desperately nuzzling between your thighs, circling your neglected clit. 

“have to speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” the tip of his cock nudges against your soft spot, eliciting a strangled mewl from your pretty wetted lips. 

“i can make myself cum,” you speak proudly through gritted teeth, voice bouncing around with every slam of his hips, “i don’t need you,” rubbing your clit harsher, as if to prove a point. 

“oh yeah? show me baby.. let me see you cum,” slowing his strokes but keeping his cock firmly enveloped inside, jaw clenching with every squeeze and quiver of your cunt. 

eddie palms your tit, getting as much satisfaction from this as you were. your whimpers alone could make him cum, hell, just a look and he was rock solid in his jeans. 

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” gasping into the air, leant back against his shoulder, head turning to hide in the nook of his neck as you teeter over, waves of pleasure shocking your body. 

“shit,” he grunts underneath his breath, feeling you writhe around in his arms, “that was good sweetheart, my turn,” resuming his assault on your cunt, breath stuttering as his hips begin to rock again. 

his hand replaces yours, slipping between your thighs to find your clit, thrusts becoming sloppy and weak as the blood rushes to his head, sending his stomach into a series of somersaults. 

even in your separation, your pleasure came first. an important pocket of information wayne had awkwardly handed him when his voice started cracking and girls no longer had cooties. 

you’re putty in his arms, fully relying on the countertop to keep you upright, thighs quivering with the intensity of your orgasm and the anticipation of the quickly approaching next one. 

“oh.. my.. god,” whining with every thrust, your voice thick with lustrous air, too fucked out to stand or even think straight. 

“i’m gonna, sh-shit cum sweetheart,” pounding recklessly into your trembling pussy, dripping in a mixture of your juices. 

you clench around him, tipping over the edge once more, barely able to hold yourself upright with shaking knees and a harsh grip of his arm. 

eddie isn’t, nor had he ever been one for pulling out, he liked running that risk, the thrill of maybe knocking you up again. 

three kids don’t happen without at least one accident, that’s for sure. 

he doesn’t now, pumping the thick ropes of his release into your cunt, groaning belligerently as he does so. praying to god this was the time it stuck, pregnant with his child once again. 

you fall flat against the counter, heaving for breath with the last of his pathetic strokes, growling into the stuff air. 

he slaps a harsh palm to your ass for good measure, trailing his hand down your trembling thighs, “so you run along home now and tell him exactly what i told you,” fingering the lace of your panties as he hikes them back over your thighs.

“no.”

[paarksunghoon]

Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?

as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol

***

Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.

He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).

He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.

When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.

You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.

The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.

He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.

His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.

Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.

“Do you have our tickets?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”

“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”

His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”

“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”

You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.

The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.

As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.

You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”

He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.

The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.

Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.

But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.

Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.

Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.

His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.

It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.

“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”

Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.

“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”

And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.

He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.

Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.

You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.

He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.

Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.

“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.

“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”

Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[luvjunie]

earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?

— facetime

pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader

contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot

“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“

“that is literally you trying to control me.”

you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.

you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.

you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.

“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”

“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.

“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”

while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.

since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.

miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.

so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”

he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.

“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.

what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.

“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.

his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.

he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.

“and watch your mouth.”

chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.

“yeah, you’re right. we are.”

thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.

“bet.”

____

you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.

you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.

you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—

“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”

the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.

“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.

he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.

“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”

you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.

“window. you should really lock that.”

“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.

“true.”

his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.

you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.

“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.

he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.

“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.

“do you know what boundaries are?”

“nah, not really.” he admitted.

you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.

“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.

he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”

you sighed.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[slytherinboysvip]

!Motorcycle rider bf¡ Theo Nott

(Nsfw! Your boyfriend Theo has a motorcycle now.. and a hot fucking helmet.) (helmet kink? lol idk) smut smut smut

Your boyfriend Theo didn’t have many outlets to get away from his thoughts, before it was smoking which he’s attempting to slow down on for you, occasional journaling not that he’d ever let you see that, and now his newest and most favorite hobby riding his motorcycle.

To be completely honest at first the idea terrified you, an angry Theo driving around on a motorcycle going any speed he pleased “Starò bene amore mio, tu sei il mio portafortuna”(ill be fine my love youre my good luck charm). You’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t say he looked damn fucking good in his helmet. So good in fact that you needed him to fuck you in it.

It’s like his whole demeanor changes when he puts it on, you can’t see his face yet you know his beautiful sleepy eyes are looking directly at you underneath, yet all you see is his fit body and it just did something to you. It didn’t matter what he was wearing as long as that helmet was on his head you were drenched.

𓆙𓆙

The first time you rode on the back of his motorcycle was amazing. He bought you your own helmet “I had to get it for you baby it screamed you, and it gave an excuse to finally make you ride with me. Not that you haven’t done that before” He winked while putting it over your head. You were glad it was on so he couldn’t make fun of your profuse blushing but who cares it’s because of your hot boyfriend.

He put his helmet on and you nearly fell to your knees he looked so fucking hot. Without saying anything he lifted you up and onto the back of the bike and got on in front of you. “Can you hear me principessa?” You jumped hearing his deep voice in your ear “Yeah? how can I hear you Teddy?” You were so confused “I got mics duh, had to be able to hear my baby. Now hold onto my waist we’re gonna get going don’t let go.” His voice was demanding and you did as he said.

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he grabbed your left hand and kissed it before putting it back down and kicking off, You didn’t expect it but the bumpiness of the road was doing something to you. You tried forgetting about it, it wasn’t happening, you weren’t getting turned on, but you were.

Your hands mindlessly wandered down onto your boyfriend’s crotch, rubbing slightly yet acting oblivious. “What do you think you’re doing there, hm?”. You almost forgot your boyfriend could hear you, “Nothingg, just resting my hands duh” You added some pressure and heard a small groan turning you on even more than before.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish doll” One of his hands came down and stopped your hands forcefully, a small moan escaping your mouth unwillingly. “My cute slut” He chuckled pulling your hands back up and going back to both hands steering.

𓆙𓆙

It has been long enough and you needed him to fuck you in the helmet. At this point all you had to do was tell him, of course he’d do it he does anything for you but the act of having to ask is so embarrassing, but its what has to be done for your own sake.

Reluctantly walking over to your boyfriend you quickly somewhat quietly expressed your feelings “Ireallyreallyneedyoutofuckmeinyourhelmetorilldie”. He looked at you with a confused look “Say that again but in actual words this time” He placed both hands onto your shoulders looking deep into your eyes, yet another weakness of yours. “I want you to fuck me in your helmet” You mumbled just enough for him to understand, trying to look away .

He chuckled before pulling your face to look him in the eyes again “il tuo desiderio è il mio comando, principessa” (your wish is my command princess). He got up and turned you around, “Keep those pretty little eyes of yours closed for a second”. You heard him walking away and did as he said before feeling a tap on your shoulder, “Turn around doll.”. Doing as he said you were greeted by a helmeted Theo, “Holy fuck you’re so hot”

“You know what you asked for, don’t waste time get on the bed for me slut”. You just nodded quickly before running for the bed and undressing. “Good girl, know just what to do for me. Get my pants down for me”. Pulling them down as much as you could you grabbed his growing dick and putting it into your mouth looking up at him from the bed, this entire view and situation made your pussy fucking drip.

You could hear his low groans coming from underneath the helmet and it was making you want more, “Please fuck me Teddy, please I fucking need it” You were looking up to your own reflection and seeing yourself covered in saliva because of this and made you feel something you never felt, you just wanted more. “Lay back then, I want you to fucking watch me.” He removed his shirt and holy shit he everything became even better. You definitely weren’t protesting this.

His rock hard abs, his throbbing big fucking dick and his helmeted head. He was like a god. Lining himself up to you he rammed deep inside making you give out a loud moan, his pace was immediately picking up hitting all the right places. His right hand came up to your pussy and he easily found your swollen clit begging for attention, he began swift circles over your clit with his thumb moving it side to side occasionally, It was already making you go over the edge. Everything about this moment was everything you needed.

Your pussy began clenching around his dick, your orgasm nearing and moans increasing, he kept his pace and underneath the helmet he was a mess, moaning and cursing because of how good your pussy felt. “è una bella merda, tesoro” (thats that good shit baby) He moaned deeply. Even though your legs were shaking and you couldn’t control your moans he kept going. Pace now increasing and still not leaving your clit alone. You were being so overstimulated but it never felt so fucking good.

He pulled out but before you could even say anything you were roughly flipped over onto your stomach and pulled back, legs reaching the floor lifting your ass up and slamming right back into your pussy. Screaming moan leaving your mouth “FUCK THEO MM”. Your screams only encouraging his behavior making him go even harder, hitting far and deep you were a mess and he was going feral.

He reached his hand forward grabbing onto your jaw shoving two of his fingers into your mouth yanking you back forcing you to arch, he leaned forward his helmet barley in view but enough for you to get turned on some more, his dick was driving you insane. “You’re so wet mm” he moaned “Fuck im gonna cum again Theo!!” You announced as you collapsed back down to the bed, nothing changing but him holding your hips up to continue fucking.

Your eyes were rolling back and you were feeling nothing but numb pleasure going dumb. “Cum for me good girl, mm fuck” “I love your pussy..” He stroked deeply “..and i love how much of a needy whore you are for me” He stroked harder and quicker “..and mm I fucking love.. filling you up” He moaned his last words feeling his cum shoot deep into your pussy unexpectedly making you moan. “Fuck theoo”.

He gently pulled out and spread your pussy lips watching intently as his thick white cum dripped out. Finally walking over to the side table and getting tissues to clean you off. “Now to take this off and get you properly cleaned up” He removed the helmet and he was sweating underneath which was also attractive to you. “Fuck it was hot in there but fuck that was hot” He laughed and you laughed along “That was definitely fucking hot. We need to do it again sometimee” You laughed again.

He lifted you off the bed and brought you into the bathroom sitting you down onto the toilet and starting up a warm bath “Any of your cute soaps today love?” He asked while looking through your box of bath bombs “Hmm, surprise me” You smiled at him and he went to looking. “This one’s perfect” He plopped in the only all black one that is definitely going to stain the tub.

He helped you into the bath and got into the shower next to you, being able to see him was funny but it’s just from the stomach up so it’s not much of a show. You sat there relaxing watching the water drip down his muscled back and felt content after that entire thing. This was most definitely needed.

Hopefully you enjoyed that<33 I know i’ve been gone for a bit but writes block LOL anywho im not sure how this is so lmk!!!

Masterlist

[kotoku]

Could I request Dr Ratio, Aven, and Sunday (separately) with a partner who calls them edible as a weird form of compliment? Like “awww you look so cute and edible!”

And maybe they sometimes bite him, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to be uncomfortable

Please and thank ya!

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴇᴅɪʙʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader / dr ratio x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ reader has their own way of expressing their affection lol

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

“Aww you look so cute and edible!”

“Edible? Is this in reference to my wings being called chicken wings?” 

↻ Sunday has literally no idea what you are talking about but he appreciates the compliment

↻ Whenever you call him ‘edible’ he just gives you a smile and says thank you, continuing on with his business

↻ At one point he would probably ask his sister what it means to be called ‘edible’, getting a laugh and a not so helpful description in response

↺ He’d probably ask the Trailblazer about it since they seem on par with your slang (boomer Sunday lol)

↻ Sometimes you’ll randomly bite him, especially on his wings which always get a extreme reaction from him 

↺ He can’t tell whether he likes it or is uncomfortable with it, nonetheless he politely advises you to bite anywhere else besides his wings (he might experiment on that later in private)

↻ Like your ‘edible’ comment, he’ll find your biting a little weird but dismisses it as your way of showing that you adore him (maybe it’s some sort of mating ritual? who knows)

↻ If you call him ‘edible’ or bite him in public, he freezes– how is he going to explain this!? 

↺ He probably has numerous of bite marks on his skin from you, not like you bit too hard for it to hurt but it was definitely hard enough to leave a mark (he gets flustered everytime he looks at them, desperately trying to cover them up before leaving the house)

↺ If someone says something about it, he’ll shrug it off and say that’s how you show your affection for him, giving them a look that urges them to not talk about it any longer

“I’m cute and edible? Thanks, you’re cute and edible too, _____.”

↻ Aventurine partially understands what you mean

↻ He’ll call you ‘edible’ as well as a little joke, giving you a playful smile

↻ Honestly, Aventurine would take the ‘edible’ compliment as something suggestive, calling you ‘edible’ with a knowing look in his eyes as you burn up underneath his gaze

“Not in that way, Aven!”

↻ Aventurine lets you call him whatever you want as long as it’s nothing too extreme, especially if it’s in a public setting

↺ However, being called ‘edible’ isn’t inherently a bad thing to be called so he just shrugs and lets you call him that

↻ I can imagine him buying some sort of pastry/cake of himself to live up to that compliment of yours

“See ____, I’m literally edible now.”

↻ If you bit Aventurine as a way of showing your affection, he’d do the same to you without any shame

↺ The fucker would do it in public too, right in front of his subordinates or coworkers

↻ You’d mainly bite his forearm, cheek, or neck (right on his tattoo), which always elicits a reaction out of him

↺ Sometimes it would leave marks and he wouldn’t even bother covering them up, in fact, he’d display it with pride

“Oh this? My partner gave it to me, that’s how they show their affection.”

↻ He couldn’t give two shits about what anyone has to say about them

↻ The bites you give him are a not that uncomfortable, he’d probably like the feeling a lot (masochist -_-)

“Edible? _____, you can't eat me. That would be known as cannibalism, which is frowned upon in most places.”

↻ Veritas has no clue what the fuck you are talking about.

↻ Edible? What do you mean he’s edible?? Are you planning on eating him???

↻ He just stares at you to see if you’re joking, but you’re not, so he massages his temples as he gives you a disappointed sigh

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve given me, you chose to call me ‘edible’.”

↻ He respects your effort and appreciates the compliment though, never giving it a second thought if you call him that again

↻ Honestly, Veritas would probably do some research on what it means, taking it a tad bit far

↺ Is it something the people on your planet did? Was it a courting thing? 

↺ You’d have to reassure him that it’s just a compliment you came up with and that it just means you love him a lot (spoiler alert: he doesn’t believe you for a second and thinks there’s a hidden meaning behind it)

↻ Watching him invest his time into this compliment is something that both intrigues and worries you, but you let him go until it gets too far

↻ If you bit him as a way of showing your affection, he’d probably go down a whole ‘nother rabbit hole about its meaning

↻ If your biting left some marks on him, he’d cover them up to the best of his ability

↺ If someone noticed them, he would immediately glare at them, effectively preventing them from talking about it

“Not a word.”

↻ You probably like biting his biceps lol

↻ If you bit hard enough to where it was uncomfortable, he’d probably politely tell you to stop and that if you’re going to perform your weird mating ritual, you need to bite softer

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙