#wait quite a while before glancing at the sandwich

[stonelions]

he thinks he's being so smooth with his little face on my leg. i SEE you, villain

#comics #benny dog tag #to his credit he did #wait quite a while before glancing at the sandwich

[1-ker0sene-1]

Your blog is like a buffet, thank you 🥺 I would like to maybe put in a wee little request of poly 141 with a reader that has arthritis with pain flare ups maybe, I'm kinda going through it rn with a bad flare

{Thank you for your lovely words and great request! I'm sorry about your flare, I hope it goes down soon!♥️ Take care of yourself pookie♥️ paraffin wax has helped some friends of mine :)}

John notices your flare first. The way you try to breathe through your pain and continue your tasks, eyes close and shudder for a second. His eyes soften and a frown etches on his face. Oh sweet thing, you've done enough. He just wants you to rest. He'll move closer to your side, a hand sliding warmly up your back before holding the nape of your neck. Authoritative, yet in a gentle manner.

"Darlin'?.. you doin' alright?"

He asks, he knows you're not. But whether you tell him you are or not gives him an inside to exactly how much pain you're in.

However no matter how you answer, he's sending you to go rest. Kissing your temple.

"Hm? How about you watch a movie with our boys? I'll take care of dinner.."

His arms wind around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. Kissing on your shoulder. He didn't want you to feel bad for needing a break. Besides the boys waiting on the couch would be more than willing to look after you.

"John you really don't have to worry about it-"

You can hear the creak in his knees as he bends to lift you up. An arm under your knees, and another behind your back. Kissing your cheek, his beard tickling your soft skin.

"We're home now. We can take care of you."

He mumbles. Glancing over as Kyle walks into the kitchen. Tilting his head at the scene.

"Something happen?"

He asks in a bit of alarm, raising his brows. John shakes his head coming over to stand in front of the younger man, holding you up between them. Mindlessly you reach up, skimming your fingers over Kyle's jaw. Who takes your hand gently and kisses your fingertips.

"I'm alright really-"

John sighs at your dismissal. Leaning to kiss Kyle's head just above the brow, explaining to him.

"Flare up.. darlin' will be up in no time. Just needs some rest and care is all."

Kyle hums in acknowledgement, taking you into his own arms. You groan at their dramatics, dolling you around like you can't move at all. But smile as Kyle peppers your cheek in kisses.

"Let's get you to the couch lovie.. I'm sure Johnny will be all too eager to give ya a massage while I get you an ice pack yeah?"

You sigh softly, leaning into his chest as he carries you into the living room. Despite your groaning earlier, it was nice to simply rest. Get the weight off your aching and stiff joints.

"Thank you sweetheart.."

You mumble into him, a smile spreading on his lips.

"Just loving you sweets, nothing any of us wouldn't wanna do."

Coming into the living room around to the couch, Simon sits up stiffly seeing you carried like that. Nearly throwing Johnny off on accident, earning a yelp from the scottsman. Seeing that look of pain threw the blonde man off.

"She alright?"

The question Simon asks makes Johnny blink and sit up as well. Kyle waves them off, slotting you carefully between the two men.

"Flare up."

Is the only words he needs to say. Before both Johnny and Simon envelop you in their arms.

"They're being dramatic- I'm not dying y'know-"

You giggle. Simon chuckles, an arm around Johnny's hips as you lay between them on his chest. Johnny laying almost on you, quite the effective soldier sandwich. Johnny kisses your collarbone. Leaning into the dramatics to cheer you up.

"Our wee lass. How are we ever gettin' by without you?"

He practically purrs. His hands warmly brush over you, serious for a couple seconds.

"Where does it hurt bonnie..?"

As you tell him, he caresses, massages, and feels over each area that you mention to him. Watching you with loving bright eyes. Occasionally leaning down to notch your lips together, swallowing up your groans of comfort. Simon licks his lips watching the both of you, gripping Johnny's mowhawk to pull him back a bit. Kissing him first, sloppy and rough.

You watch the two of them. Pressing a kiss to Johnny's throat from below him, your fingertips skim over Simons arm. When Si disconnects the kiss he leans down to kiss you next, gentle and soft. Moving slow and sweet with you. Now Johnny is watching with a lovestruck grin. Hands still kneading and massaging your aching joints.

Doesn't take long before Kyle walks back in with a couple of ice packs, kissing Simons cheek- which has the blonde pulling back. Just so Kyle can get the next kiss, cheekily pressing his tongue in to run over your mouth. You laugh and pull back when he's had his fun.

"Got your ice baby."

He hums, Simon takes the packs, resting them where Johnny is done massaging.

"Twenty minutes on and off!"

You can all hear John say sternly from the kitchen. Kyle smirks and nudges your shoulder.

"I'll go help the old man with dinner."

He says. You reach out before he can leave, bringing him into some drowning kisses from all three of you on the couch. Kyle finally slips away after a couple minutes of chasing eachothers mouths. Wiping his lips with a dazed smile as he heads back to the kitchen.

Johnny's cheek is on your chest now, cradling the back of his head close to you. Simon is kneading at your hips. Whispering into your hair.

".. We'll get you in a hot bath.. yeah doll? Warm you up.."

His Manchester accent purring in your ear.

"You won't have to move an inch. You take care of everything while we're deployed. Gotta do the same for our girl.."

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #poly 141 x reader #taskforce 141 x reader #141 x reader #kero answers

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (4/?)

Part summary: Getting to know Leigh Shaw comes with some hardships—literally.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 4.600 | Warnings/Tags: Pining | A/N: Still haven't decided how many parts will there be, but for now, enjoy reader's POV as her interest in Leigh grows :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Next

-

For some reason, you keep saying yes to Leigh Shaw.

Yes to providing your veterinary services for her.

Yes to divulging the private aspects of your relationship with Matt.

Yes to staying in her yoga class.

Yes to running very early in the morning, with a lung-busting pace that leaves you dehydrated and feeling queasy by the end of it.

As if to add insult to injury, Leigh Shaw doubles back to where you're lagging behind, barely hanging on for dear life. She flashes that cheeky grin, says, “Try to keep up,” and takes off again like it's nothing. You're left gasping for air, your heart screaming in agony as you attempt to match her pace, but Leigh's already a blur ahead. 

She was right—your endurance is really nowhere to be seen. It's in these moments, as you're pushing past what you thought were your limits, that you start to get why Leigh's both a pain and a push that was kind of missing before in your life. 

Leigh eventually vanishes around a corner, and consequently, you lose sight of her. You dig deep, pushing yourself to keep going, refusing to quit out of stubbornness and curiosity of what your body could do. By some miracle, you make it to the finish line, which turns out to be that park you've been to only once before with Matt. He had made it a special day with sandwiches and comics, while you got lost in a book he swore you’d love. You can’t shake off the feeling that this place is significant for Leigh and Matt too.

When you finally stumble in, there's Leigh, chilling on the grass, looking like she's lost in thought, her eyes dark with something you can't quite put your finger on. But then she spots you, and it's like someone flipped a switch. She’s back to the flippant Leigh—easygoing, as if nothing’s amiss.

“Was half expecting to find you passed out somewhere back there,” Leigh smirks up at you.

You can’t help but flop down next to her, letting the sun beat down on your face, feeling every bit of your skin that's exposed soaking up the warmth. Thirst claws at your throat, fierce and unforgiving. Gathering the little energy you have left, you manage to ask, “How long have you been waiting?”

Leigh glances at you, her casual ease belying the brief glimpse of concern you thought you'd seen earlier. “Oh, about five minutes,” she says, her tone light, as if the grueling run was nothing more than a leisurely stroll for her.

You pant out, “Why are you so fast, anyway?” 

Leigh bursts into laughter, finding your question absurdly funny. “Fast? Me? That's hardly competitive speed, you're just... completely out of shape.”

You pout, feeling slightly offended but too exhausted to argue. Stretching out beside her, you let out a series of groans and pops, feeling your muscles protest and then slowly relax. “Feels like I'm a hundred years old,” you mutter with a heavy sigh.

Still chuckling, Leigh shakes her head. “I've been running for three years now. It's more of a hobby, really, but I need to stay active for my job at the Beautiful Beast. Or my mom will fire me.”

“Your family owns that place?”

Leigh corrects you quickly, “Not my family, just my mom. And being the owner's daughter doesn't give me a pass to slack off. I can't afford to be terrible at my job.”

Her distinction between “my family” and “my mom” sticks with you. It seems like a clue into her family dynamics. In the short time you've known her, Leigh comes across as straightforward, genuinely helpful, and yes, perhaps a bit quick-tempered, but overall...she's okay. 

More than okay, actually. She must be incredible to those she truly cares about. So, what went wrong with her and Matt? How could he betray her like that? It’s even more baffling when you remember Leigh saying they were trying for a baby. That detail still turns your stomach, and you're endlessly grateful you never went down that path with him, despite once wishing things had gone differently.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize how intently you've been staring at Leigh until she calls you out on it. “What is it?” she asks, her voice pulling you back to the present.

Flustered, you find yourself asking the question that's been simmering in your mind, since you first pulled on your sneakers for that 5k this morning. “Why'd you bring me along for your run? Why are you even helping me?”

Leigh just gives an offhand shrug, says, “Well, you didn't have to show up, so you're actually helping yourself.”

“Fair enough,” you reply, but can't shake off a bit of disappointment. The truth is, you were hoping she'd say something that suggested she was up for being friends, or at least saw you as more than just another client of hers.

It's weird, really, why you keep wanting to be friends with Leigh Shaw.

Suddenly, Leigh glances at her watch and looks up at you. “Ready to go?” she asks, a bit impatiently.

“If I can still walk after this, sure,” you say, half-joking, half-serious, feeling the effects of the run in every muscle.

Leigh laughs at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that lights up her face. It's a sound that's real and unguarded, making you think that maybe, becoming friends with her isn't such a far-fetched idea after all.

-

Yoga sessions with Leigh stick to the script you first stumbled into. She's all business, only really tossing you a nod or a word when your form goes sideways. “Shoulders down, back straight,” she corrects you, her voice firm, yet not unkind. Outside of that, you might as well blend into the walls for all the personal attention she gives, just like anyone else there. Everyone gets the same treatment—tough love, dished out in equal measure.

Despite her imposing presence, there's something else, a depth to her that often seems just out of reach. You catch her sometimes, looking out the window with a distant gaze. But then she blinks, shakes it off, and is back, fully attentive and ready to guide the next pose.

“Focus on your breathing,” Leigh's voice snaps you out of your focus on her. “Inhale deeply, and as you exhale, sink deeper into the pose.”

Determined to excel, you pour all your effort into being the student Leigh doesn’t need to worry about. Ironically, your diligence only seems to make you more invisible to her. As you master the poses with less need for correction, Leigh's interactions with you dwindle further.

After class, you toy with the idea of approaching her. Maybe get some feedback, or even suggest grabbing dinner together so you don't have to eat alone. But as you're putting together what to say, you notice Leigh seems in a hurry. She exchanges a few quick words with another instructor who's just arrived, and before you can decide, she's excusing herself and heading out.

The moment to ask her has slipped away, leaving you to pack your yoga mat with a resigned sigh. 

Another time, then, you think.

-

The next day, without another invite from Leigh for a run, you lace up your shoes and follow the same route you and Leigh took together. Just 20 minutes into the run, the solo effort feels more like a chore than the engaging challenge it was with company. You loop the route four times, hoping maybe to cross paths with Leigh purely by coincidence, but she’s nowhere to be found. 

The studio had announced last night that Leigh’s yoga classes would be temporarily led by a different teacher, with her expected to return next week. This bit of news leaves you mulling about her absence, kind of hoping you might accidentally run into her to find out more. But as the week goes by without any such encounters, you realize you actually know very little about her daily routines or habits. Despite the nagging curiosity, you refrain from texting her, not wanting to intrude or anything.

Admittedly, your motivation to work out dipped slightly without Leigh being part of it.

-

When you finally talk yourself into visiting Matt’s grave, you do so just minutes before it could get really dark. You've chosen this time deliberately, betting on the common fear that keeps most people away from cemeteries as night approaches. 

Your main concern isn't the general public, though; it's just Leigh. Past experiences have shown that encounters with her can happen unexpectedly and in the most random of places—like that night at the club when she ended up getting sick just a few inches away from you. You're not here out of a longing for Matt. Instead, you aim to properly close this chapter of your life, hoping to do so without running into his widow and giving her the wrong impression.

The air holds a chill that wasn't there when you left home, making you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s quiet, just the sound of your own footsteps crunching softly on the path. Being here as the day turns to night, watching shadows stretch out long and skinny, really gets you thinking about life, death, and everything else in-between. Maybe that's also why people avoid this place—it sort of forces you to face the music, making you curious if all the things you're wrapped up in are actually important or utterly pointless. 

As for you, you haven't quite figured out where you stand on that yet. Lately, you've really come into your own in your career, especially now that you’re seeing the profits steadily rising each month. But that sense of achievement fades each evening as you return to your empty apartment. It's just you, night after night, pushing through the grind, pouring everything into your job. Yet, when you try to envision where you'll be in five years from now, the picture isn't clear. Will you be settling down with someone, or just picking up the pieces from another relationship that’s gone awry?

Finding Matt's grave takes a moment, but when you do, your heart clenches. It’s just a simple stone with his name, the years he was here, and a couple of words(you’re guessing it’s Leigh who wrote them) about him. 

You kneel down, the grass cool and slightly damp beneath you, and lay the flowers you've brought on his grave. They look kind of bright against the dimming light. Like hope.

“Hey Matt,” you say, stepping into a silence that feels like it's hanging around, just waiting for you to fill it. Talking to a dead person feels ridiculous like they do in the movies, but it's not like anyone's around to hear you.

“You know, I met Leigh,” you begin. “Your wife you conveniently forgot to mention when you were busy asking me out.”

There's a sour edge to your voice, airing grievances to a guy who can't throw back excuses anymore. You can't help but chuckle, though it's more bitter than amused. You let your thoughts more freely now, like the barrier between you and Matt has thinned out with the honesty. 

“Leigh is… beautiful, you know? Not in that runway or social media kind of way, but in a manner that's hard to just overlook.” 

You could list a dozen more positive things about Leigh to tell Matt, but he already knew all that, didn't he?

“The first time I met her, I felt small, maybe even insecure. And now?” you shake your head, smiling slightly. “...I still do. But mostly, I'm just left thinking…” You pause. The next thought isn't really for Matt, not anymore. 

It’s for you.

“I just can't wrap my head around why you'd want to be with me when you had her. I feel like the murder weapon that's trying to seek justice for its victim.” You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Not a great spot to be in, honestly. Makes me feel kind of helpless, you know?"

Sitting back, you take a moment, just looking at the headstone, at the name etched into the granite. The conversation, if you can call it that, feels like it's shifted something inside you. Not closure, exactly, but maybe the first step towards understanding—or at least accepting—that some things just don't make sense.

Standing up, you dust off your knees, taking one last look at the grave. “Anyway, Matt, I hope you've found peace. It looks like we're all searching for a little of that ourselves. Thanks for the book suggestions. Though, you might be a bit disappointed to hear Agatha Christie remains my top favorite.”

As you walk away from Matt's grave, it feels as though you're leaving a piece of yourself behind to rest with him. You decide then, as the cemetery gate closes behind you with a gentle click, that you won't let this page in your book define you. Maybe tomorrow, you'll try a new coffee shop, or take a different route to work. Small changes, but important ones.

Maybe you’ll even try that spin class that scares you so.

-

“Since when did you start living at the gym?” Suzie teases you from her spot across the desk, that signature playful, all-knowing arch to her eyebrow.

Suzie, who had originally come on board as a receptionist at your vet clinic with little more than enthusiasm and a genuine love for animals to her name, had quickly become much more than just a staff member. Her lack of relevant experience was initially a concern, but her dedication and the way she connected with both the animals and their owners made it clear she was a perfect fit. Over time, she evolved from being just the receptionist to a friend. 

A friend who seems to enjoy teasing you, though.

“First off, it’s hardly the gym. It’s this fitness class I’ve been trying out—big distinction,” you clarify, eyes glued on your phone. The last half hour has been a slow crawl towards 5 PM, the magical hour when you can finally shut down and head to Leigh’s class at Beautiful Beast.

“Tomatoes, to-mah-toes,” she quips.

“Not the same thing,” you insist, still not fully engaged in the conversation, your focus on a food article you're reading.

Suzie just waves her hand dismissively. “Semantics. But seriously, you've been really into whatever this is. There's gotta be a guy making those sweat sessions worth it.”

You can't help but laugh, the idea so off base it circles back to being hilarious. 

“Trust me, the allure isn't the sweat. It's those endorphins,” you say.

“Yeah, sure,” she drawls, unconvinced. “Come on. Who is it? I know you're not this amped to be all gross and sweaty for nothing.”

“There's no guy, Suzie.” Then, as if the thought just occurred to you, you add, “Or girl. But honestly, there's really no one.”

At that, Suzie's expression shifts from playful teasing to one of pleasant surprise and a touch of mock offense. “Hold up, you might be into girls? And here I was, shooting my shot in the dark this whole time!”

Your ears burn red at her blunt flirtation. “Suzie, come on,” you stammer.

“If I had known that was on the table, I would’ve upped my game ages ago,” she says, her wink sending your face from warm to inferno.

“You’re impossible,” you manage to say as you hurry to collect your things, ready to rush out the door.

“Impossibly into you,” she retorts saucily.

“I’m gonna have to fire you, you know,” you mutter jokingly, glancing at your watch. “Gotta run, bye!”

“Just so we're clear, the offer stands,” she adds, still grinning.

-

You feel a sense of relief seeing Leigh back in class. 

Though the website clearly stated her schedule, you found yourself on edge until you could see Leigh with your own eyes. There's nothing noticeably different about her; Leigh seems just as composed and in control as ever. When she catches you looking, she offers a small, somewhat dismissive smile before turning her attention elsewhere. 

You spend the whole session with your energy dialed up, partly because Leigh's presence just does that, and partly because you're already plotting. As soon as she calls time on the session, you're practically springing into action. Your belongings—a water bottle, towel, and the rest—land in a haphazard pile on the floor as you quickly stand up, eager to catch her before she disappears. You make your way toward her, determined not to let her slip away this time.

Leigh's busy packing up her own gear, her back to you as you close the distance. “Hey, Leigh,” you say, and it sounds like you've got this under control, even if your heart's hammering away in your chest. She turns, and there's a flicker of surprise in her expression. You’re hoping it’s the good kind of surprise.

“I'm really glad you're back,” you push on, hoping it doesn't sound as clumsy to her as it does in your head.

She takes a swig from her water bottle, giving you a once-over, and then says, “Thanks. Do you need anything?” There's an expectant look in her eyes, and in that moment, your confidence begins to wane, melting under her gaze. You're on the spot, scrambling for words, any words that don't involve asking her out for dinner, which suddenly seems like an insurmountable task.

“Uh, actually,” you start, your mind racing to find a safe topic, “I was wondering if you had any tips on improving my form?”

Leigh's expression softens, and she nods, setting her water bottle down. “Sure, I can show you a few things. Let's go back to the mats,” she suggests, leading the way. Despite feeling like your tank is on empty and your body crying for hydration, backing down doesn’t feel like an option. 

Not when Leigh is already spreading her mat next to yours. She does so with a sort of blasé authority, and you can't help but think how this is Leigh all over—straight to the point, no fuss. You're tired, sure, and a part of you is suggesting that you're about to make a fool of yourself with your shaky legs and probably even shakier form. But then, Leigh starts talking, pointing out where you're going wrong and how to fix it, and suddenly, you're not thinking about dinner anymore. You’re too distracted now by the smell of her perfume mixed with the scent of her sweat.

The next few minutes turn into what feels like a whole new session under Leigh's watchful eyes. She's on you about everything—the angle of your arm, the set of your shoulders, even the way you're distributing your weight on your feet. Leigh's not mean about it, but she doesn't let anything slide. You're just trying to keep up, watching her move with that easy confidence. It's mesmerizing, really, how she can make something so complex look so simple.

By the time you're done, your muscles are burning, your breath is ragged, and you're pretty sure you've sweated out every last drop of water in your body. As you lie there, staring at the ceiling and asking yourself how a ten-minute guidance turned into an even harder session, you mentally kick yourself for not just admitting you wanted company for dinner. It was right there, and you were too scared to be rejected. 

But why? Considering everything that's happened and the circumstances, Leigh turning you down seems like the more probable outcome anyway.

And then Leigh does something totally offbeat. She glances at the clock, then back at you, and out of nowhere, she's asking, “Want to grab something to eat?”

It's so unexpected, that for a moment, you're sure you misheard her. But Leigh's waiting for an answer, a slight smile playing on her lips, and suddenly, the fatigue feels a little less overwhelming. You sit up, a slow grin spreading across your face as you realize this is it—your chance, handed to you when you least expected it.

“Yeah,” you finally manage to say, almost tripping over your tongue. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

-

When Leigh mentioned grabbing something to eat, you expected a sit-down at some cozy restaurant serving healthy food. Instead, she pulls into the drive-thru of a fast-food joint, orders a mountain of fries and a couple of burgers, and parks the car in a secluded spot overlooking the city. It's laid-back, unpolished, and honestly, pretty perfect.

“So, how long have you been in town?” Leigh asks as she hands you a burger, the city lights twinkling below like a scattered deck of glowing cards.

“Just over a year,” you reply, taking a hearty bite of your burger. “Moved here for the business opportunity, but it’s been... you know, slow on the social front.”

Leigh nods, understandingly. “It can be tough, starting fresh somewhere. This place isn't the friendliest to newcomers.”

Your eyebrow lifts, curious whether she's speaking from her own experiences or perhaps someone else's.

“Yeah, most of my socializing happens online these days. My closest friends are scattered across different states,” you say.

Leigh just hums a bit, not really adding anything else. She doesn't go into details about her own friends, so you're left trying to think of something else to talk about. But everything that comes to mind feels too personal, like asking why she wasn't at the Beautiful Beast for a week, how she's dealing with being a widow, or questions about her family.

Small talk isn't really your thing, so the conversation fizzles out from here. Both of you just end up staring out at the city lights in silence. Leigh seems comfortable with it though, so you decide to just go with it and savor the quiet moment too.

After a while, Leigh breaks the silence. “I didn't think I'd be able to love another dog after Rogue,” she shares, not taking her eyes off the cityscape. “Matt and I had to put her down because she was sick. It was brutal. I swore off dogs after that.”

You look over at her and offer a soft, “I'm sorry.”

But there's no trace of sadness on her face. It’s so nonchalant, almost as if she’s just talking about the weather and not a painful memory.

“But then...I saw Visitor,” she goes on, a small smile cracking through. “I just knew he needed me. And, this might sound odd, but I realized I wanted to feel needed. When Matt—” She stumbles over his name, a rare falter, but she's quick to brush it off. “When he died, nobody needed me. And I struggled with that. Because being needed felt like a purpose.”

The idea of needing to be needed isn't something you've ever considered. Truth is, you've never really needed anyone. You've been a solo act for as long as you can remember, handling things on your own, relying solely on your own capabilities. And so, that also meant you couldn't imagine being on the other side of the spectrum—being needed by someone.

However, there's a part of you, unexpectedly, that feels a twinge of jealousy towards Leigh. To truly experience loss, there first has to be something meaningful to lose. You're not sure you've ever let yourself have that kind of bond with anyone. Not yet, anyway. It's a sobering thought, making you think about what you might be missing out on.

Leigh notices you're not saying much and says, “I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I'm sorry.”

You shake your head slightly, “It's okay. I just... I don't think I've ever been in your shoes.”

Leigh looks a bit puzzled. “What do you mean? Are you talking about the dog thing, or…?”

“The other thing,” you clarify.

Leigh smirks. “Oh, I wish I was like that.”

You quickly realize how arrogant that must have sounded, so you rush to explain, “No, I'm not trying to brag or anything. It's just, I guess I've never really opened myself up to that kind of bond.”

“Not even with Matt?” she asks, and there it is—the topic of Matt you've been tiptoeing around. You're suddenly aware that Matt's shadow is something you'll have to get used to, just as Leigh apparently has, given the unceremonious way she alludes to your almost-affair with her late husband. 

“No,” you whisper, looking straight into Leigh's eyes, hoping she’ll believe you. “We never needed each other like that.”

Leigh's eyes linger on yours a moment longer before she looks away. Eager to change the subject, you add, “Must've been rough, giving Visitor back to his real family.”

“Yeah. I mean, I shouldn't be, right? But part of me was actually angry at them for letting him get away like that. He could've been hit by a car or worse, all because they weren't careful. But at the end of the day,” she stops, a sigh escaping her, and that smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes comes back as she looks at you again. “He’s not mine.”

“Visitor really snuck into your heart, didn’t he?”

Leigh nods. “I wasn't expecting to care that much, you know?” Then, she offers a small, reflective chuckle. “Makes you think about the connections we allow ourselves to have, and the ones we avoid, doesn't it?”

You try to gauge whether she's still talking about Visitor while also trying to figure out where you stand—the connections she's chosen or the ones she sidesteps?  Before you find the courage to ask, Leigh starts the car and presses down on the clutch, ready to switch gears.

“I need to head back to the studio, so I can only drop you off somewhere on the way,” Leigh says, signaling the end of your time together for now.

You quickly decide that being dropped off at the studio is fine. “The Beautiful Beast works for me,” you reply, hoping to extend the time you have left with her, even if it's just by a few minutes. 

The ride is quiet, the earlier ease replaced by a thoughtful silence. You're watching her, the way she's all eyes on the road but clearly lost in her head. Leigh, as you’ve noticed, is someone hard to get to open up, her walls built high and strong. She's this fortress of a person, but tonight felt different, like she accidentally left a window open and you caught a glimpse inside. 

It just makes you crave for more.

As the studio comes into view, it feels like you've both made some progress with Leigh and yet, somehow, not made any at all. Stepping out of the car, you’re met by Jules, another staff member at the Beautiful Beast whom you've heard Leigh refer to numerous times, approaches. You barely catch her saying, “Danny is waiting for you inside,” to Leigh. You miss the frown on Jules's face or how Leigh instantly seems on edge.

“Thanks for the ride—and for dinner,” you say, feeling a bit out of place now.

“Don't get used to it,” she says, the corners of her lips twisting into a reluctant smile. “Was nice talking, though. Thanks for not making it weird.”

As she's quickly pulled away by whatever's going on inside, you hover for a second, debating if you should go in for a goodbye hug. But before you know it, Leigh is tossing a quick “Bye” in your direction as she strides towards the studio.

You're left there, floating in the aftermath, wondering about everything and nothing all at once.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

[musubi-sama]

Game of Chicken

Satoru invited you to a club to see his favorite band play. But you have a boyfriend, so surely you can win this game of chicken?

CW: afab!reader x gojo satoru, modern au no curses, outdoor sex, piv, cunnilingus, DP if you squint.

AN: Shoutout to @/bunny584 and @/pseudowho for helping with two key elements! You two are amazing and I look up to you! And guess the name of the song and band I used.

WC: 5.1k | Link to AO3 if you prefer

~~~

Trying to quell the shivers of excitement and nerves, you focus on the road ahead of you. Glancing momentarily at the digital nav on your console, you change lanes in preparation to take the next exit. As you exit the freeway, you see another message arrive from Satoru.

>> Text me when you’ve parked and I’ll come down

You hadn’t planned on going out tonight, especially not planning to drive into the city and meet up with a new friend to go see a band at a local club. But when he sent you a text in the afternoon gauging your plans and interest, you all too eagerly responded yes.

Before you left for the evening, you sent off a message to your boyfriend:

<< going to Murasaki tonight, don’t wait up <3

An otherwise unremarkable drive, you spent the 30-minute trip with your music uncharacteristically low and your hands uncharacteristically fidgety on your steering wheel.

You’re just going to see a band with a friend. A friend, that you told your ridiculously tall, tanned, and handsome boyfriend about. A friend, whom your boyfriend assured you he is not worried about - you or him.

But each flick of the passing streetlights dances over your ticking hands gliding over the steering wheel. Light catches on the demure set of silver-shining rings your boyfriend bought you recently. They match a pair he wears on his right hand, while yours are thinner and more feminine for your left hand. The hands you hold when you’re sitting at home or walking around town.

Reaching Satoru’s building, you slip into the open visitor parking spot in the underground lot. Hopping out of your car, taking a deep breath to attempt to quell your nerves and quiet your hands, you send off a quick message:

<< hheree!

Damn your shaky hands! Again, sending off messages too quickly before you think.

A moment later after arriving in the cavernous, brutalist lobby, a shock of white hair attached to a tall, lanky body pops out of the elevator. Satoru is sporting a black and pink color block shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, distressed designer denim sitting perfectly on his hips and a sleek leather belt.

“Hey. Hi. C’mon up. How was the drive?” he says as you approach the elevator.

“The directions on the app sent me half-way around the city just to avoid the local roads,” you respond exasperated as you step into the elevator. The button for floor 41 is illuminated.

Satoru stands directly across from you and in a moment, you get a whiff of his sweet scent of vanilla and cherry. You’re fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and the lengths of necklace decorating your plunging neckline as you ride up the quiet elevator. It’s not like you’ve never spent time in a penthouse, in fact your boyfriend lives in one not too fa-.

Your thoughts are cut off as the elevator dings and opens up to a sprawling, blue and silver post-modern penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. Satoru’s hand is resting in the space of your lower back, heat radiating into you but not quite making contact.

“Do you want a drink? We don’t need to leave just yet,” Satoru slips past you to the well-appointed bar area of his sprawling kitchen. A chill is left in the space where his hand sat, and it slides up your spine.

“Dirty martini, gin, if you have it would be lovely,” you take a seat at the oversized kitchen island seating. A drink will calm your nerves.

You’ve known Satoru for about a month, having met while in line for the deli counter during lunch. You both ordered sandwiches, then walked over to the drink cooler and tried to reach for the same can of seltzer, and somehow ended up next to each other at the register. After deciding to grab a seat and eat together, you exchange contact information and meet up for lunch weekly.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, Satoru carefully followed you around the deli creating “accidental” run-ins with you just so that he could sit down with you over lunch. A known playboy in the city, he was thinking only with his dick and with a goal in mind when he ran into you. And if tonight went well, you would be another notch in his bed post. And, if he played his cards right, a recurring one.

Satoru spent his entire life being gifted with everything. He owned the building you were standing in; his entire life was crafted for him specifically. Satoru only chose two things - his best friends and his sexual partners.

Satoru flashes a quick raised eyebrow at the request but quickly moves to grab the ingredients and set to mixing, “How many olives?”

“Hmm, four, please!”

You take in the view of the city from your perch. Even though it’s dark outside, you can still get a decent view as the lights are dimmed in the rest of the suite.

“Your drink,” Satoru slides the chilled and dangerously filled martini glass sitting atop a coaster across the shiny marble countertop towards you, not spilling a drop. He sits an old fashioned with four Luxardo cherries on a cocktail skewer in front of himself.

Satoru lifts his glass to yours, “kanpai!” as you gently bump your glasses together, still not spilling a drop. You take a quick sip and hum in satisfaction as the savory bite coats your tongue. You take a second, much larger sip before setting down your glass and picking up the skewer of olives.

“So,” you bite one olive off the stick, “who are we going to see tonight?”

The game of chicken has officially begun. You lay your first trap, shiny and red lips sliding around the piked olives.

“My best friend is the bassist in Jujutsu Kaisen and they’re playing a secret show tonight downtown.” Satoru follows your tease with a nip of the cherry from his own glass.

“Is this how you impress all your girls? With secret shows of mega stars?” another olive bitten.

“It’s not always girls,” he gives you a wink as he leans over the island, resting his head on his arm propped up by his elbow. The last two olives slip off the skewer because you need something to do with your agape mouth.

Winner of the game: whoever breaks second. You were going to win. You had to. You have a boyfriend, but you sure planned to enjoy the harmless chase. If you can chill out enough to enjoy it. The gin is really helping, though.

Stepping out of the building, Satoru leads you over to a luxury black car waiting for you and a driver holding the door open.

“This is too much, I thought you said we were just going to a bar to see a band?” you said incredulously, looking back at Satoru.

“We are. Ichiji is my personal valet. After you,” he waves you into the car and you slide in across the supple leather seats.

Satoru doesn’t think twice about how this looks. To him, this is standard operating procedure. He’d never considered any other way to get around the city. And of course, he asked Ichiji to use the sportier model today.

You take in the sights of the city as you take the quick 10-minute trip across downtown into the industrial district. Ichiji pulls up to a brightly lit club with a few throngs of people milling about.

Satoru leads you to the door, flashes something on his phone to the bouncer, and you’re both waved in. Sliding across the room to a pair of seats on the side of the club and a great view of the stage. Satoru slips away to grab you both drinks from the bar, returning after a few moments.

“My favorite shot to start the night, Red Headed Sluts,” he passes the shooter to you and you both take it in a single swallow. A small dribble leaks from the corner of your mouth. Satoru reaches over to wipe it off with his thumb, proceeding to lick it off while maintaining eye contact. You blush and immediately turn your head, trying not to look at Satoru after that.

Damn, lost that round. Focus, dammit.

Satoru slipped away again to return the shot glasses to the bar and get more drinks; this time a beer for you.

Checking the time, it’s almost time for the band to go on. The crowd has quickly started to fill in and you are developing a nice buzz, your head starting to feel a bit cloudy and suggestible.

The band comes out to roars from the crowd and you join in. Satoru stands behind you, one hand again hovering at your lower back. As they start their set, you get caught up in the music and fail to notice your date disappearing occasionally to keep your drink filled.

Each time he returns, his arms slowly reach up your body to rest on your shoulders. You’re in control, put your hands on his to make sure they don’t drift any further.

Then they encircle your shoulders, and you’re standing. Swaying your hips with the beat, lipstick marks on your glass appear with increasing regularity as you try to distract yourself. You’re playing against a master.

And slowly, Satoru’s arms reach down across your chest. By some definitions you have lost. But by the imaginary rules in your head, you move the goalposts. All is not lost. Other than your brain, in the moment. The band starts up a ballad, powerful chords racing through your veins, melodic lyrics and a stunning harmony between the lead singer and the bassist.

Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto, bassist of the band. His thick black hair, half pulled up into a bun, stretching down to his mid back, and bangs framing his face. Tall, broad and you can see the edges of tattoos extending across the edges of his shoulders into his bare chest. He has thick eyeliner, dark eyes, and a pair of sharkbites and large plug ear piercings to decorate his fierce face.

You’re going to lose the battle if you aren’t careful. Satoru, well-practiced in this game of cat and mouse knows that you are a timid mouse he needs to delicately trap if he wants to win.

An hour into the set, you are feeling incredibly buzzed, teetering on drunk. As the last song before the break starts, Satoru is now in front of you, standing between your legs and his arms are on your hips. His piercing blue eyes gazing down at you. There’s a slight smirk in his mouth as he slowly leans down. One hand traced its way up your side to pinch your chin and guide your lips to his.

Just before your mouths connect, you open your mouth to protest this moment. You have a boyfriend, what are you doing? This isn’t right, you’re already breaking so many rules. You need to stop, put distance between the two of you and keep it platonic.

But the song ends, music stops, the lights come up, and the band walks off stage for a short break. The crowds shift and move toward the bar, the door, and the bathrooms. You stand up abruptly, chest heaving, and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Some water on your face and a refresh of your makeup should help you calm down and fix this.

Standing at the sink, you take in yourself. You can do this, you can win.

Satoru grabs your drink to take a sip and finish it off. His pocket buzzing, he sees a text message from Suguru.

>> If you don’t fuck her tonight, I swear to god

Satoru chuckles and tips the beer bottle towards the now empty stage. The intended goal tonight was to do as much, at this point he just needed to convince you that you wanted this as much as he does.

You return after a long wait for the bathroom and with another drink. You’ve managed to calm yourself and you sit back down next to Satoru.

“Feeling better?” Satoru asks you as he places a hand leaning on your shoulder, just close enough to not touch your earlobe.

You shiver, unable to look him in the eye for more than a millisecond. “Y-yeah. I should probably drink some water,” you trail off. Satoru, already planning for that request, hands you a cup of water from the counter next to you. You take a long sip and the cold drink switches your nerves for cold shivers.

The lights flicker, indicating that the band is about to return to the stage. You join the crowd in cheering, focusing on the band and not the building desire burning between your legs. You’re here to see a band, and you have a boyfriend, one who satisfies you in ways you’d never even dreamed of. But there was something so enticing about what was standing right here, arms resting across your shoulders.

Hands drifting down from around your décolletage to brush the glittering peak of your breasts.

You arch your back slightly at the sensation, breath heavy with lust. Looking up and trying to focus on the concert, the bassist is singing into the mic, but his eyes are trained on you. Surely, he’s just scanning the crowd or looking for his friend, right?

But I'm only dancing / She turns me on But don't get me wrong / I'm only dancing

Your heart skips another beat, and you blush, tilting your head back and finishing off the drink.

Accepting that you’ve lost, you swallow your nerves and lean into the touch Satoru is giving you. Tilting your head back, you reach up to meet Satoru’s waiting lips. You take control and push your tongue into his mouth, taking your pleasure from him. Letting the alcohol suppress your inhibitions as you place your hands on Satoru’s while they continue to squeeze and massage your tits.

You pull away from the kiss. High from the adrenaline after jumping off the cliff.

“I need to tell you…” you trail off.

Satoru slides around to return between your seated legs.

“I don’t care, just don’t tell me about him.” Throbbing between your legs now taking over for all rational thought.

Satoru immediately leans down to leave a trail of increasingly stronger kisses along your neck. You stretch to give him better access. Your hands slip around the back of his head, scratching and pulling the nape of his neck and along his undercut. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you moan into his ear and bite down on his earlobe as you pull back.

“Let’s-let’s get going, back to my place,” Satoru doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool and head out the door. As you leave, you noticed the bassist still has his eyes trained on you.

You stand outside while Satoru gives Ijichi a call to come around with the car, only waiting a few minutes. Those minutes are filled with very handsy kissing until you hear a cough, signaling Ijichi’s arrival and gesture to get into the car.

Satoru slides in the car first and pulls you onto his lap straddling him. You look back towards the driver’s seat but before you can protest, you’re cut off.

“You didn’t have a problem when we were back there in the club. You even seemed to want to be seen by Suguru,” he taunts and gives your ass a hard slap.

Even in the darkness of the car, with the passing streetlights, he could see your blush.

“C’mon baby, let’s just have fun, okay? Don’t think too hard about it. Besides, it was hot seeing you show off for Sugu back there,” Satoru grinds up into you and you can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

Satoru is enjoying the chase tonight. Trying out new tricks, using old ones that have gathered dust. You’re fun to chase. Are you as much fun to capture?

You spend the rest of the, mercifully short, ride back to his penthouse slowly winding your hips across his crotch, hands resting on his chest as you tease and show off your form. Finding little relief on your own tortured arousal.

Once you arrive at Satoru’s building, the two of you stumble out of the car and into the elevator. Before the doors close, Satoru pushes you up against the back wall and slots his muscular thigh between your legs. You can’t help yourself but grind on his leg as his hands pull down the front of your shirt and exposing your lacy bra. He reaches in and pinches your nipples; you keen at the touch, sucking in a sharp inhale of air.

“Are you even going to make it to my floor?” he teases you, pushing his leg harder against your throbbing, clothed cunt.

All you can do in response is moan obscenely. At this point every drop of inhibition is gone and you push back on his chest causing him to step back from you. You use this moment to drop to your knees and begin to unhook his belt.

“No,” you exhale as you begin to palm his straining erection almost painfully pressing against the seams of his pants. You unbutton his pants as he starts to run his hands through your hair, but the elevator arrives at his floor, and you hear a soft ‘ding’ when the doors open.

Disappointed, you stand up quickly and shuffle into Satoru’s suite, adjusting yourself back into your shirt, kicking your shoes off at the door and dropping your purse. You check your phone and see a message from your boyfriend:

>>> have fun ;)

You immediately stuff the phone in your dropped purse in a panic. But as soon as you bend down, you feel a pair of hands around your ass and a clothed erection pressed up against you.

“You’re making it too easy, baby,” Satoru croons into your ear and you roll yourself up to standing holding contact.

“Are you complaining?” your pussy pulses as he continues to grab your ass with one hand and snakes the other around your abdomen and pulls you in tighter. Satoru leans in to take a nip at your neck before releasing you and walking over to the door for the veranda.

You follow in his wake, eager to see the view of the city from here. The chill of the midsummer night washes over you, but just as quickly, Satoru approaches you at the railing and engulfs your body with his.

He doesn’t waste any time sliding his hands up your shirt, unclasping your bra, and removing both in one fell swoop. Satoru drops your items on the edge of the balcony before spinning you around and kneeling before you to remove your shorts.

Oh, he looks stunning from this angle. Subservient but dominating in power. Another trick he hasn’t played in a while.

You rest the back of your forearms against the balcony, spreading your legs slightly once your shorts are off. Head buried in the ozone of lust and anticipation.

You slip one leg over Satoru’s shoulder as he leans up to whisper a touch of his nose to your clothed cunt as he inhales your sweet scent of arousal.

He palms his restrained cock as his free hand rubs over your needy bud, eliciting a whiny moan from you. Seeing how soaked your little, useless, thong is, he hooks his finger onto the scrap of fabric and pulls it aside.

You use your heel to push Satoru closer to you and he eagerly obliges. Placing his hands on each thigh, he spreads your legs more to gain easier access to your dripping pussy.

Satoru licks a long stripe up your cunt, gathering your copious arousal on his tongue. Coming back again, he takes his middle finger and teases your hole eagerly clenching around nothing. Focusing his tongue on your aching nib, he adds a second finger and you let out another strained whine. He slowly slides his fingers in and out, twisting his hand and curling the tips to drag against that spongy spot deep inside you. You buck at the pace of his ministrations, moans getting louder with each thrust.

The pressure is building in your core, your heel is digging in even more to Satoru’s back. He moans into you, the vibrations traveling up your spine through the ends of your hair.

“C’mon baby, give it to me,” Satoru moans into you. His fingers speeding up, one arm reaching around your waist, tongue pushing directly and lips sucking on your pulsing clit.

The sensations reach a fever pitch, and you scream out as your orgasm takes you. Your hips jut wildly, your hands grip the railing of the veranda, and you throw your head back as the electric shock runs through your body.

Once you have regained some semblance of control over your body again, you slide your leg off Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru pulls his fingers out and sits back on his heels once your leg releases him. Licking his fingers clean with a moan, savoring your taste.

Satoru stands up and cages you in against the railing, urgently crashing his lips on yours, sharing your taste covering his tongue, lips, and chin. You eagerly accept, moaning into him as you lightly bite his invading tongue.

“How about we move this somewhere more comfortable?” Satoru grabs your hand and leads you back inside.

He brings you down the hall to his bedroom, dim lighting accentuating his aethereal features. You fall back into the plush bedding while the bed dips with a shirtless Satoru sitting behind you, legs on either side of your body.

Rolling over and sitting on your knees, you gently push Satoru’s chest allowing him to fall backwards. Nimble hands slide their way back down his abdomen, following the dips and peaks. What luck of the genetic lottery did he win to have such divine musculature.

You quickly finish the job you started in the elevator and remove his pants. Running your hand over his twitching erection restrained by his tight black boxer briefs, you give a few squeezes before you quickly rid him of the final layer.

All ten inches of his veiny cock spring free and slap against his abdomen. Your nerves suddenly come crashing back. But this time, it’s over how you’ll be able to take all of Satoru in you. You look up and see a shit eating grin on Satoru, arms resting behind his head.

You’re not the first person to gawk over his size. Aside from the obvious prizes for winning this game, the stunned moments his dates share compete for this reward.

You grasp the base of his cock and start to slowly stroke up to the tip, gathering his leaking precum as you slide your hand back down. After several strokes, you slide your hips over his and line up your wet cunt with his angry red tip.

Satoru places his hands on your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down. All the teasing, the anticipation, the yearning has built to this moment.

“There you go, doll. Take it easy,” he chuckles as you gasp. Feeling full and it’s only barely halfway in, you let out a shakey moan. Bottoming out, you hold still for a moment before slowly rocking your hips back and forth. Savoring the fullness and depth he’s reached inside of you.

Locking eyes, you throw your head back, hair flying back in a splash as you pick up speed, taking control of your pleasure. You’ll deal with the consequences in the morning, the fun of chasing and capturing this apex specimen has you enthralled.

Sliding your hands up your body, giving in to the rhythm, you pinch your nipples and let your full tits fall and shake.

In an instant, a blink, and your world flips around and suddenly your chest is in the plush bed, a hand under your abdomen hiking you up. Pace never faltering, Satoru’s heavy balls now slapping against your ass as you’re pulled up onto your hands and knees.

“I loved the view, but something tells me you like this better,” he pulls back and finds that one angle that gets that scream from you.

You reach up to the headboard for leverage as you push back against Satoru. You can feel the coil winding again, deep in your stomach. A hand finds its way to your peaked nipples and with one, two, three pinches your orgasm washes over you again. You lose your grip on the headboard, crashing into the pillows while Satoru slows to feel your warm gummy walls pulse around him.

Not wanting to spill just yet, he waits until you’ve regained some control before reaching his thumb towards your little unused hole.

You feel a sudden wetness drip onto your ass as Satoru’s thumb presses the spit into you. Gasping at the intrusion, you just moan “more, please, god.”

With a smirk, Satoru slowly slides his thumb in and out, half speed to his hips. Using his other hand, he grips your plump ass and then pulls back for a loud slap. Not impressed with the sound of the first, he reels back for a second. This time, leaving a lovely red mark. Secretly hoping it is still visible when you go home in the morning to whomever is waiting for you.

“Baby, can I give you a mess?” Satoru asks, not a drop of fatigue in his voice, only lust.

Your mouth answers, again, before you can even think of a response, “please.”

Satoru pulls his thumb and cock out of you, precum and your slick leaving a sticky trail connecting the two of you as you roll over to your back.

Satoru is kneeling as if to propose and offering you pearls instead across your pussy.

As he finishes, you reach down to spread the sticky mess on your sensitive and hairline trigger clit. Utterly debauched, you cum with a yelp and arch your back at your own touch.

Satoru collapses on the bed next to you, taking your wet hand into his. You moan and clench your thighs as he cleans off your hands, taking each finger in turn, slowly rolling the digit around in his mouth and across his tongue.

“I should wash up,” you croak out, trying to avoid eye contact while your one-night stand seemingly fucks you again with his ocean blue eyes.

Satoru gives your fingers one final lick and slides out of bed. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the shower turn on. After a minute, he pops out of the door “shower’s this way, doll.”

Somehow you manage to wash up, in spite of an extra pair of hands and a sneaky pair of lips following after every clean patch of skin.

Falling asleep is easy, the warm afterglow of a couple orgasms and a spicy shower let you both drift off into the morning.

Rolling over, you’re awakened by vibrations coming from the headboard. You reach up and find Satoru’s phone ringing.

“Hey, fix it,” you grumble as you push the phone into Satoru’s chest. He removes his arm from under your head as he blinks several times attempting to read the caller ID.

“Yo,” his voice gravelly and clipped. “Mhmm, yeah sure no problem.” He hangs up and puts the phone back on the shelf.

Satoru reaches his arm across you and pulls you into the crook of his neck, kissing the top of your head.

“Hi,” you mumble as you stretch your leg across his.

“Breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes,” a rogue hand makes its way down your back onto the swell of your ass.

“And some ibuprofen?” your free hand finds its way through his abs. You can’t believe how someone who just woke up doesn’t have morning breath nor the musty musk of a just-awoken body.

“How about a hair of the dog that bit you?” he winks as he gets out of bed and puts on a pair of lounge pants, letting them hang low.

You walk around the corner, hearing an unexpected voice coming from the kitchen. Clad in nothing but a button-down shirt you pulled from Satoru’s closet, you decide to make the best of it and ignore any shame for being the one-night stand the morning after.

“Hey handsome, pancakes smell good,“ you stop short as you round the corner and see who Satoru is talking to.

“Hey baby, sounds like you had a good night,” Suguru turns away from Satoru to face you as you approach the kitchen. He gives you a slow elevator stare. “Looks it, too.”

“I-I did. And you sounded amazing last night, I loved the new song,” you excitedly bounce over to Suguru a kiss on the cheek and join him at the kitchen island.

“Hey Satoru, you should be more careful where you put your guests’ clothes. These-“ Suguru places a shirt and bra on the table, “were laying on the sidewalk this morning. And considering I bought them for my girlfriend, I know they came from your veranda.”

Satoru’s jaw hits the floor as he attempts to work out what is unfolding in front of him. Suguru never mentioned he had a girlfriend, and you didn’t mention a boyfriend. Wait, then why did he send that text message last night?

“I’m sorry but what is happening?” Satoru points his spatula at you, catching you in the middle of a messy kiss with Suguru.

“When I found out my lovely girlfriend ran into you, we decided to see how long it would take before you tried to get into her pants,” you’re pulled closer to Suguru.

“It was my idea, once Sugu filled me in on your sordid history.”

Satoru rolls his eyes at the implications.

“Yeah. Now, I tipped the deck in my favor by setting up the private show last night. I knew you couldn’t resist the tempatation.”

“What am I, some common manwhore?” Satoru cries as he puts a hand on his hip and returns to the griddle.

“Yes” both you and Suguru respond in unison.

“But a manwhore with a really nice ass,” you add.

Satoru just sighs and serves up three plates.

#jen の stories #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk au #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen smut

[fungifanart]

Budget for love

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Ruggie Bucchi, Grim

CW: Skipping meals, existential dread, money problems

Word count: 2,032

Notes: I heard a voice one night, urging me to write a Ruggie fic...that voice was mine. I just like Ruggie.

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Ruggie Bucchi's financial status is, by no means, a secret.

Ever since he enrolled at Night Raven College, he's garnered a reputation for being a money-grubbing cheapskate who can reduce any merchant to their knees through his skill at haggling alone, all due to his lack of financial security.

Growing up in the slums will do that to a guy, he supposes.

Along with that, growing up poor has also instilled in him a certain pettiness and resentment in regards to the more privileged classes, which just so happen to make up a very large portion of NRC's student body.

Joy.

Well, if nothing else, this makes it easy to simply view most of the other students as potential pickpocket targets.

However, this also makes it easy to forget that not all of them are more well-off than he is, meaning it's especially jarring when he comes across a certain Prefect and direbeast having an argument in Sam's on-campus store.

"C'mon, Henchman! You're telling me we can't afford ONE little extra can of tuna?" Grim argues while clutching said can of tuna to his chest tightly.

"Yes I am, Grim. With our budget, we can barely even afford the bare essentials for this week. That 'one little extra can' will push us over the edge for sure!" The Prefect argues back with the look of a tired father trying in vain to reason with his stubborn child, "Listen, I get paid for my work at the Mostro Lounge on Friday, right? I know you've still got some of your secret stash left, so if you can hold out until then, I'll get you a can of the fancy tuna as a reward. How's that sound?"

That last statement causes Grim's face to light up as he immediately drops the can of regular tuna and hugs the Prefect while exclaiming, "Deal!"

Ruggie doesn't do anything. He simply watches, mildly dazed at what should have been a fact he already knew as the Prefect finishes paying for his essentials and leaves the store with Grim as Ruggie continues to stand there before being brought back to his senses by another student telling to him to move out of the way.

Ruggie doesn't see the Prefect again for a few days after that, their schedules never seeming to allow them even a passing glance in the halls, but the memory of what he saw that day still lingers in his mind for a reason he can’t quite identify right now.

The next time Ruggie does see the Prefect is in the cafeteria during lunch.

It's one of the rare occasions where he hasn't been ordered by Leona to get his lunch for him, so he's taking his time, scanning the tables for a place to sit when he notices the Prefect sitting across from his feline companion while said companion munches away at his food.

Seeing no other open seats, Ruggie walks over and says, "Long time, no see, Prefect! Mind if I sit here?" He asks despite not waiting for the other man's answer and plopping himself and his tray down in the spot next to him.

"O-oh! Yeah, that's fine." The Prefect responds before turning his head back to Grim as he eats, but Ruggie can't help but notice the lack of food on his side of the table.

"Dang, Prefect! I wish I got here sooner so I could've seen the carnage!" Ruggie remarks while playfully nudging the other man's shoulder.

"Huh? What do you mean?" The Prefect asks confusedly.

"Oh, come on! YOU finishing your food before GRIM? I can only imagine how much you stuffed your face to make that happen!" Ruggie concludes with a snicker before taking a bite of one of his sandwiches.

The Prefect blinks a couple times before responding, "Oh, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I didn't get lunch." He says, causing the hyena to choke on his food.

"W-whaddaya mean you 'didn't get lunch'???" Ruggie questions after chugging his water.

The Prefect shrugs, "Just what I said. We have some leftovers at Ramshackle that I could’ve brought, but we were in such a rush this morning that we couldn't even eat breakfast, much less prepare any lunch and running back between classes would take too long. Therefore, we had no choice but to buy lunch from here, but I had barely enough cash to get food for one of us and it'd kill me to see Grim go hungry, so I figured I'd be fine if I skipped a meal or two." He concludes nonchalantly.

Ruggie proceeds to sit there, dumbfounded, as the Prefect goes back to watching Grim eat, his face content, but with a hint of melancholy.

Ruggie knows that look. He's seen it countless times in his childhood on the faces of some of the adults in his neighborhood as they forwent their own food just to let their children eat.

He doesn't remember seeing a lot of them around last time he went home.

His mind snaps back to the present as he looks down at his lunch tray piled high with the food he bought using money he'd snuck out of Leona's wallet and then back at the empty space in front of the Prefect, his stomach suddenly not feeling as empty as before.

Wordlessly, Ruggie takes two of his sandwiches and slides them over to the other man, who looks back at him in bewilderment.

"Ruggie? What's this for?" The Prefect asks.

Ruggie clears his throat awkwardly before responding, "W-well, it's just that it turns out I got more food than I'll probably eat, so I thought 'why not', right?" He says while forcing his signature laugh.

Luckily, the Prefect doesn't seem to read into his awkwardness as his suppressed hunger resurfaces on his face and he proceeds to practically inhale the sandwiches after giving a rushed "Thanks!"

In a matter of seconds, the sandwiches have completely disappeared, leaving Ruggie both amazed and...oddly fulfilled upon seeing the Prefect’s own satisfaction from having a full stomach.

Huh...that's new.

Ruggie's been so used to pinching his and other people's pennies at this school that helping out seemingly the only other student that's in the same boat as him, even without getting anything in return, feels...nice.

Nice feelings like this are few and far in between with a lifestyle like Ruggie's, so now that he's felt it, he proceeds to chase it whenever he can.

From that day onward, Ruggie makes a point to help out the Prefect if he has the time, starting with offering him a simple snack between classes or pointing him in the right direction if he gets lost, before slowly escalating into him stepping in to haggle Sam's prices down for him and even taking his hand and physically leading him to where he needs to go, not noticing the increasingly flustered looks on the other man's face.

He doesn't know when exactly it happened, but after a while, that simple nice feeling turned into something more...warm and fuzzy that he feels blooming in his chest as he and the Prefect grow closer, finding more and more time to spend with each other, whether it being studying together or going out to the market, until one night, they find themselves gazing up at the stars on the hill just outside of Ramshackle.

Looking over at the stars reflecting in the Prefect’s eyes, Ruggie can't deny how beautiful they look. And what he also can't deny is the fact that he's grown attached their owner.

He can’t help but imagine what the future could hold for the two of them.

But then he remembers who the Prefect is.

He's an otherworlder. The one destined to leave this world behind in favor of the one where he actually belongs.

The only future that exists for Ruggie and the Prefect is one where he waves goodbye as the other man disappears into the Dark Mirror forever.

But that doesn't mean he has to be okay with it. That doesn't mean he can't still want the Prefect to stay, preferably with him.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruggie questions.

"Sure, what is it?" The Prefect responds, looking over at Ruggie, the serene expression on his face only further solidifying his feelings.

"Just out of curiosity, what would you do if you couldn't go back to your world?" Ruggie asks, noting how the other man tenses up at the question.

"W-well, I guess I'd keep going here until I graduate..." The Prefect responds in a way that doesn't fully answer Ruggie's question.

"Ok? And then what about after that?" Ruggie pushes.

".......................To be honest, I try not to think about it." The Prefect finally answers with a sigh, "People always say that graduating from here basically guarantees success in life, but how many high-ranking, high-paying jobs are actually there for someone like me in a world like this, even as a so-called 'beast tamer'? And that's not even accounting for me not having any official documentation since I wasn't born here! Hell, the most Crowley will do is cover up the fact that he has an undocumented individual among his students, so if I can't find a way to become a citizen by graduation, I'm out of luck!" He concludes while bringing his hands to his face in frustration.

Ruggie...can't say he's ever thought about that. And now he's feeling extra bad for the Prefect as he thinks of ways he might be able to help.

And it's then that he remembers a certain law in the Sunset Savanna and his trademark mischievous smile spreads across his face.

"Y'know, if citizenship's a big issue for you, we could always get married!" He blurts out, breaking the other man out of his wallowing as he chokes in surprise before letting out a laugh.

"You shouldn't joke about that!" The Prefect says with a giggle and a playful push against the hyena's shoulder.

"Hey! I'm serious!" Ruggie responds in a very unserious tone, "One of the laws in the Sunset Savanna says that if you marry one of its citizens, then you'll become a full citizen yourself!"

The Prefect's laughter dies down as he ponders this information, "Wait, really? How did THAT come about?" He asks, genuinely interested.

"Well, since it's ruled by lions, the kingdom's basically viewed as one, giant pride so being accepted by one of its members means being accepted into the pride, no questions asked." Ruggie explains.

"I feel like that leaves a lot of room for exploitation, though." The Prefect says thoughtfully.

"Hey, that works out for you, though. Doesn't it?" Ruggie says cheekily, earning another soft push against his shoulder.

"Don't act like this is set in stone already when we haven't even been on a proper date yet!" The other man argues lightheartedly.

"Well, if we're not counting all those study dates and market dates, then I guess you're right." Ruggie says bluntly, "So I'm free this Saturday if you wanna make it official."

The Prefect’s giggles stop as he looks at the hyena in surprise, who looks back at him with the first serious expression he's worn since the start of the conversation.

"I want you to know that I'm actually serious about this." Ruggie says while looking into the Prefect’s eyes, "I wouldn't throw an idea like that around willy-nilly, y'know."

The other man blinks for a couple seconds before his expression softens, "Alright, fine. How about this: IF I can't go home AND we both feel the same way after graduation, then I'll marry you. Deal?" He says while holding out his hand, clearly not fully convinced about Ruggie's conviction.

"Shishishi, deal!" The hyena says before shaking the Prefect’s hand and turning his head back towards the night sky, satisfied.

"Heh. So you're free this Saturday, huh?" The Prefect says before leaning over and pressing a kiss onto Ruggie's cheek, causing his heart rate to accelerate, "I'll look forward to it."

With heat blooming on his face, Ruggie feels that warm feeling in his chest again, but this time, he's able to put a name to it: Love.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #twst x male reader #ruggie x male reader #ruggie x reader #twst mc #twst yuu #twst grim #why is this mushroom writing fanfics?

[authorhjk1]

First of all, Happy New Year!

Second, holy fuck, Midnight..the idea of ending and starting a year with fucking arguably the 3 best milkers is just wild, and while a small part of me wishes you could've explore more into the foursome action and some gxg between them as well, overall it was still smoking hot, considering the timing as well releasing this right at the end of the year with the theme of fucking them 3 to end the year is quite a nice touch honestly..and that Karina sequence especially was so fucking amazing,really,thank you for such an amazing fic to close 2023 and welcome 2024..

Last but not least, looking forward for your next works too, but do take your time and no need to rush things,good luck too for all the things you do in life and i'll patiently wait for you to drop the next one whenever you have the time too,best of luck and take care!

Happy new year to you as well!

Hope you like this small scene:

You watch as Jihyo takes the condom out of your hand. Getting distracted for a moment by Karina's lips, which wrap around the tip of your cock, you almost miss out on the sight in front of you.

Standing in the door to the bathroom, you can see Jihyo walking into the shower. Eunbi is inside, sitting in a pool of warm water and her own juices. And probably Karina's as well. Her eyes are only half open, her wet hair sticking to her face, shoulders and the tiles of the wall behind her.

Too tired to react, Eunbi feels how Jihyo pulls at her jaw, forcing her mouth to open. Tilting the condom in her hand, she let's your cum fall onto the breathless Eunbi. A small puddle of cum lands on her lips and mouth, before Jihyo cheekily, changes the angle. The rest of your sperm lands on the older girl's tits.

"Oops. My bad."

Jihyo coos as she chuckles, Eunbi too drained to defend herself.

A groan escapes your lift as Karina keeps sucking you off. Her hand holds onto your base, slowly stroking it, while her lips run along your length.

By the way her eyes are closed, you can tell how much she enjoys the taste of Eunbi's slick on your cock.

"Are you getting him hard enough for me? That's so sweet of you."

Jihyo is standing behind the youngest, who's eyes are now open in surprise and anger.

"(Y/n) just wrecked your pussy again. It's my turn, greedy slut."

Karina pouts as you glance at the window. It used to be completely fogged, due to the steam of the hot water coming from the shower. But Karina's face, which is completely wet by now, cleaned the window nicely. You pressed her against it as you took her from behind. The puddle of her cum is still staining the floor and parts of the windowsill.

Jihyo pulls at Karina's hair, making the younger hiss in pain as she gets forced off your cock.

"You better fuck me good, baby boy."

Jihyo takes you hand and walks out of the bathroom, just like Karina did a few hours ago.

Jihyo's tits feel like heaven. They are tightly wrapped around your cock as she kneels in front of you, while you lie on the bed. Her soft mounds move up and down, sandwiching your cock in between.

Karina is lying next to you, Eunbi's head buried between her thighs. The youngest moans as the oldest fucks her pussy with her tongue. Eunbi was shy about it at first, but is now getting into it. Karina's hands try to hold onto something, until they find your body. Her nails dig painfully into the skin on your arm and chest.

"Are you gonna shoot your load all over mommy's tits, baby?"

You are barely able to nod. Jihyo has a good eye, you are already close.

She spits into her cleavage, enabling her to move up and down your length even faster.

"Good boys always cum on their mommy's boobs."

Jihyo's eyes are fixated on yours as she tries to predict the exact moment in which you're gonna cum.

Next to you, Karina's moans have reached another high and so does her body. Her thighs trap Eunbi's head in place as she cums on the older girl's face.

"Unnie!"

Her sweet voice makes the word sound lewd and erotic.

It slowly pushes you over the edge as well.

"Cum for us. Jizz all over my tits."

You finally follow Jihyo's order.

You start exploding, your load coating her chest with your cum. She moans in satisfaction, feeling the warm liquid on her skin.

"That's a good boy."

She sighs, letting your cock fall out of the space between her tits.

Eunbi was able to force her head out of Karina's pussy by now. She is now straddling you, impaling herself on your cock. The sudden penetration makes you groan.

"Please breed me, baby."

She moans loudly.

"Can you get me pregnant?"

That whispered question makes you hard immediately. You are suddenly aware that Eunbi is riding you. Raw.

_____

Thank you for always reading my stuff, I will make sure to keep writing as soon as possible.

Stay healthy!

#kpop #kpop smut #anon #ask #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #aespa #aespa karina #karina smut #karina #eunbi smut #izone eunbi #kwon eunbi #eunbi #jihyo smut #park jihyo #jihyo #twice jihyo #twice smut #twice

[m4tthewsgf]

Moonlight (prologue)

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x y/n

A story where a boy who is terrified of love lays his eyes on a girl who's determined to save everyone else, but herself.

pt1, pt2

Warnings: slight cursing and mention of blood

Author's note: it's been a while since I've written something so this is actually quite exciting. this prologue is detrimental to the story, so pls do not skip it!!!!

________________

“John, come on! We're gonna miss it!” I tugged on my older brother's hand with anticipation. Even though my 16 year old body held just as much strength, it was still enough to make him stumble.

“Okay Little Bear, just give me a second, m’kay?” he looked down at me with a soft smile.

“Okay, but hurry! This only happens-”

“Every 20 years, I know” he chuckled and I scoffed. Obviously he knew, he was the one who told me that.

“Just let me grab my telescope and we'll be ready to go,” John reassured me while I impatiently strolled through our small living room.

It had been 3 years since dad left us to live with his new family and things were tough. Mom has been a wreck and started drinking consistently ever since the day he left, John has been working two jobs since my mother was jobless and I have been taking care of her and the house, as well as going to school everyday and trying to keep my grades as high as possible. I taught myself how to cook and clean. I made sure my mom and brother had something to eat, even if it was just a sandwich. I had to take care of them as much as I could. Especially my mom. She was heartbroken and I couldn’t bear seeing her like that. Even though she didn’t like me, for some reason I never got to understand, I couldn’t just let her rot. She may did not care about me, but I couldn’t not care about her. She was my mom, afterall.

I quickly glanced over at the black couch where she laid. A small smile appeared on my lips as I observed her state; the way she looked so calm and relaxed in her sleep, probably the calmest I've seen her in a while, the way she hugged that bottle of whiskey like her life depended on it. She hugged it as if it was her child; with so much protection and guardiance. My smile faded. The more I looked at the way she clinged onto that damn bottle, the more I felt like crying. I dozed off. I hadn't felt my mother's embrace in years. I was kind of getting jealous of that bottle. Why did that liquid that tasted just like poison matter more than I ever did to her? Why is it so important to her? How does one become a liquid? Maybe if I was one, she would then need me. She would then see me. She would then love me.

“Ready?” my brother thankfully interrupted my troubling thoughts. He placed a hand on my shoulder, making me jump a little at the sudden touch, and a concerned look creeped into his face once he saw my teary eyes.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he worried.

“I'm okay, J, just dozed off for too long. Let's go!” I faked a smile and finally dragged him out of the much suffocating house that did not feel at home.

_______________

Long Island was truly beautiful at night. From the hill we were at, the Montauk Lighthouse could be seen, as its bright light lit up the dark, scary sea. But that didn't matter at the time. I could visit the lighthouse whenever I wanted to, whereas I couldn't see the Jupiter and Saturn conjunction again for another 20 years minimum.

I laid my soft, warm blanket on top of the freshly wet grass and sat on it with anticipation and excitement while I watched my brother put together the telescope. Once he did and tested it, he motioned me to walk over him which I did instantly.

“You should be able to see them here…” he trailed off as he adjusted the scope for me a couple of times before letting go.

“Can you? Can you see them?” John asked me.

“Wait, no. Let me just- Oh my god, I see them!”

“Really? Let me see, move!” he practically shoved me into the ground out of excitement, throwing me into a couple of rocks that ended up scratching my knee deeply.

“Ouch!” I hissed and quickly brought my injured leg towards my chest.

“Holy shit I can actually- shit, y/n/n” my brother turned his attention to me when he heard my screech, his enthusiasm long gone once he was met with a bloody knee of mine.

“Fuck, sorry kid, I didn't mean to hurt you” he quickly apologised and whipped the red liquid with his shirt.

“I have some stuff in the car, Imma go bring them real fast” he announced, but I stopped him before he could get up from the ground.

“J, it's okay. It's just a scratch” I groaned.

“Y/n, this is not just a scratch, it's deep. It will probably scar, I have to disinfect it” he argued, but I didn't care.

“You'll disinfect it later. Now, sit your ass down and enjoy this moment with your sister” I playfully slapped his shoulder and chuckled. I was in pain, but I just didn't pay any attention to it. That moment, at that hill, with that exact night sky was all I could pay attention to. These, and the person who was sitting right next to me.

“Oh look, there’s Aquila!” I excitedly told him and pointed at the constellation.

“You remember,” he chuckled after nodding his head.

“Of course I do, it’s your favourite,” I rolled my eyes at him. How could he even think I had forgotten?

“Do you know why it’s my favourite?” he challenged me and I smirked.

“Because it’s an eagle. Eagle is your favourite animal” I smiled, pleased.

“Damn, you really do listen,” he laughed and patted my head. I huffed with fake annoyance and turned my head to admire the rest of the stars, trying to find the rest of the constellations I was reading about. Silence took over us, until I decided to speak again.

“I love it when we do this” I smiled at him and he looked over at me.

“I love it too, kiddo. Sorry about your knee” he apologised once again and I shook my head.

“Well, if I'm being honest, I think some ice cream would totally make it better,” I joked and batted my lashes at him playfully.

“Oh I bet it would,” he scoffed but still laughed at my tactics.

I truly did love this. Everything about it. I loved how the autumny slight cold breeze grazed my skin, how the brown, dried out leaves cracked when I stepped on them, how I could finally drink hot beverages and wear my knitted sweaters. I loved how the stars that aligned on the eternal darkness that made up the night sky reminded me of my insignificance, of how nothing actually matters in this world. I loved how I could feel my brother's warmth and kindness only when it was just the two of us, doing the things we both loved and were passionate about.

But at the same time, the same way the night’s bright ornaments reminded me of my insignificance, they also made me actually remember it. Yes, nothing mattered, but so did I. I didn't matter. I didn't know if I could be someone who mattered. Maybe if I was someone or something else, I would matter. Perhaps an injured dog or cat who’s looking for a home, the president's wife, a bottle of whiskey…

That goddamn bottle of whiskey.

“Do you think if I was a bottle of whiskey, mom would need me?” I whispered almost inaudibly under my breath. I didn't know why I said that out loud, but I did, and I hoped that John didn't hear. However, when I heard him sigh deeply, I knew that he did and I mentally cursed myself.

“I know that mom’s approval is something you crave. And I know it hurts you a lot because you're not getting it,” he looked into my eyes, “But I also want you to know that you are enough just the way you are. I love you just the way you are and you matter a lot to me, just the way you are. Whenever you feel like you're insignificant, just remember this moment right here,” he pointed towards the ground, “See the moon?” he asked me. I nodded.

“As long as this bright, floating ball shines, you're not alone. As long as the moonlight shines, you're not unseen or unknown. You are just as important as the moonlight and as long as you shine, you'll never not be enough” John concluded with a loving smile and a soft voice. His eyes scammed all over my face trying to examine my features for any signs of self doubt that he wasn't able to erase from my internal conflict, but he was unable to find any.

Not because there wasn't any left, but because I knew how to mask it.

I flashed him a grateful smile. If I didn't have him, I wouldn't be able to survive. He was my rock. He was the person who showed me how love actually felt like, and I couldn't be more thankful for him. As long as I had him, everything would be okay.

“I love you, John” I muttered and engulfed my big brother into my arms. He responded quickly by wrapping his own around my clothed back.

“I love you more, Little Bear” he whispered against my hair and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets smut #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo fanfic

[vnmpior]

ESTOY ENLOQUECIDO POR TI

GEKKO (MATEO) x reader pt.2

pt.1

summary — you and gekko have been officially dating for five months, and you've been. . . thinking about things. from what was once, "he's so strong" when he's carrying something developed into "could he throw me on the bed?". of course, you never knew how to initiate it. do you just ask him? does it just escalate? do you have to plan it all out? those questions have been bothering you for so long that you straight up decided, fuck it, and searched it up on the internet. well, that was one way to get it started.

note — this is my first time writing smut LMAO. this might be extremely mid or decent, but i hope i don't disappoint with this!! i couldn't stop thinking about mateo yesterday so i decided i would start making this today. I ALSO CAN'T LEAVE THE MATEO SMUT TAG HAVE ONLY ONE FIC, on that note go check it out its so fucking good i love it.

w/c — 2.5k

warnings — (bad) smut, oral (f receiving), rough (ish), praise, tones of dumbification, kitchen sex, undertones of dom reader but mostly d. gekko and s. reader

not proofread + i am not responsible for any minors interacting w this post

you were done with it.

you were done waiting for your own confidence to go up just so you could. . . have sex with mateo.

just thinking about it had you red.

now that the two of you had finally moved in together, there was even less of a time that you could just do things yourself without him noticing. before you could masturbate whenever you wanted, as loud as you wanted. now you couldn't risk him hearing out of embarrassment.

it's been five months since the two of you had got together, and not once had either of you escalated past a few brief touches under shirts while kissing. mateo hadn't even seen you naked, or even with just a bra and underwear.

you knew that it would be this way until you did something about it. but the thing is, you don't know how.

and that led you here, legs crossed on your shared bed. you took a deep breath and began typing into the laptop on your lap.

"what the fuck do i even type?" you muttered under your breath.

"how to start sex? no, that sounds weird as fuck. how to get in the mood for sex?" you typed that, and instantly glanced towards the door, feeling as if mateo would walk in at any moment.

you were really picky about what websites you went on. you didn't need a whole porn video, but you also didn't need tips on how to get yourself horny.

researching harder than you do for homework, you didn't realize that the door creaked open.

"hey, chica. are you okay with a sandwich for lunch?" he said, alerting you of his presence.

without thinking, you quickly slammed the lid of the computer shut.

he gazed at you questionably, raising his eyebrow. "what was that?"

"it's nothing," you lied terribly.

his eyes narrowed. he could usually tell when you were lying, and it was obvious.

"but i'd love a sandwich," you tried changing the subject, hoping that he'd take the hint you wouldn't tell him.

"whatever you say, hermosa," he gave you a two-finger salute as he walked out the room.

you sighed in relief and opened the laptop again. so far, you had no luck. you did find some tips, but there was no way you were asking him, "hey, wanna fuck?"

you rubbed your hands against your face and let out a long groan. all this trouble just to ask him to destroy you? you flushed thinking about it.

deciding that you needed a break, you set the laptop down, angling the screen so that it wasn't wide open, but it wasn't quite closed.

you made your way downstairs, walking in the kitchen to see mateo with a big red stain on his shirt.

"holy shit, are you okay?" you ran over to him.

"i'm fine princesa. it's just ketchup. did you think it was blood?" he laughed.

you scowled and grabbed the sandwich on the counter, taking a big bite.

"hey, you're the one who thought it was blood, not me." he put his hands up in defense when you glared at him. "thanks for worrying about me though."

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face contradicted your irritated behavior.

"yeah, yeah. but if you're ever covered in blood don't expect me to come running."

"my heart," he pouted as he held his hand to his heart.

"don't you have to go get changed?" you questioned, trying to wipe the puppy-eyed look off his face.

"i probably should. look at you with the big ideas," he left the kitchen after giving you a peck on the cheek.

by the time he'd come back, you were busy washing the plate that you had used. he was silent, so when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and yelped in surprise.

"holy shit mateo, don't scare me like that!" you splashed him with some water, earning a chuckle.

"my bad chica," he apologized.

he stayed still for a few seconds, before he buried his head in the crook of your neck and start giving you little kisses.

"teo?"you questioned him while your face turned hot.

he hummed in response, continuing to trail open mouthed kisses along your neck. you tried your hardest not to gasp and tilt your neck.

"c'mon mateo, at least let me put this on the drying rack." you didn't trust yourself not to drop the plate and immediately go wild on this man.

that got him to stop, and you quickly put the plate on the rack and dried your hands.

"okay, hermoso. what are you doing?" you faced him, and he immediately caged you in against the counter.

your back hit the curved ledge, and his arms were on either side of you.

"what were you doing?" he asked instead of answering, inching closer.

"what do you mean me?" you were trying to convince yourself that he didn't know what you were doing upstairs, and that instead he was tricking you into saying it.

he didn't reply, but used one of his hands to pull you in, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck.

you'd never get used to how soft his lips were, the routine bite he always does to your lips whenever you make out. but this time was different. there wasn't more passion, but there was another emotion in how he pulls you closer to him

you could feel his smile, and when you pulled away, he had the goofiest grin on his face. his hand trailed up your thigh, stopping right before it got where you wanted it.

"teo," you frowned at him.

"what? is there something you want?" he teased you, inching closer to your core.

you averted your eyes, finding sudden interest in the ceiling. a sudden force tilts your chin back to face him.

"i asked you a question," he cooed.

you looked up at him through hooded eyes, and decided what's the worst that can happen?

you leaned your hips forward and grinded against his waist, letting out one long moan. he quickly stopped you with a harsh grip on your hips.

"does that say enough?" you said cockily.

"you have to use your words, hermosa. maybe i'll reward you."

you were tired of waiting, squirming at how uncomfortable it was in your shorts. from what you could see, he was too with the tent in his pants.

"i need you. i want you so bad." you whimpered, locking eyes with him.

he thought about it.

"what do you want?" he asked, his fingers making their way to your waistband and slowly inching it down your thighs. it left shivers coursing throughout your entire body, even though you felt on fire.

"i just want you. i want you to fuck me until i can't think anymore." you started rambling before you felt a pressure at your entrance.

he slipped a finger inside and curled it, and you slumped forward and found purchase on his shoulders.

"holy fuck mateo," you breathily said. "a little warning?"

"not my fault you weren't paying attention," he chuckled as he inserted another finger.

you've never bothered to use more than two fingers, but when mateo does it, it feels. . . different. you knew that you would never be able to replicate the same feeling that he makes you feel.

you could hear the noises as he went faster, along with the noises steadily pouring out your mouth.

"wait, fuck. . . mateo," you started speaking only to be interrupted by him sliding his fingers out and holding them up.

"damn chica, you're wet as fuck."

you almost died of embarrassment right then and there, but before you knew it, mateo dived between your legs.

you whimpered at his warm breath making contact with your folds, and just how you dreamed of, mateo went straight to work.

"fuck! teo, it feels so good," he hummed in response to your praise, pulling your legs over his shoulders while keeping your legs spread.

you threw your head back, letting out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard as your hand shot to his hair.

little whimpers and moans filled the room as you began to grind against his mouth. usually you'd last a lot longer than this, but either because you had been waiting months for this moment or the fact that mateo was eating you out, you felt something in your stomach tighten.

"mateo, stop, please." you slurred out, trying to use your hand to push him away. but he wouldn't move. he wanted to feel you cum around his tongue, and he stood by that.

he made a little motion with his head, shaking it side to side, still eagerly lapping away at you.

"i wanna cum with you, please i want it so bad." you blurted out, and that caused him to stop. you whined at the sudden cold air. well, he couldn't exactly pass up that offer, huh? especially when you begged so nicely and deperately.

"you always know what to say, chica," he grinned as he began unbuckling his pants.

"well, i didn't know what to say for it to come to this." you didn't know a single word that could've cause this to happen. not that you were complaining, but you might need that word for future reference.

"me about to fuck you stupid? i wouldn't know what to say either," you heard his pants fall to the floor and he angled you on the counter for you to be comfortable.

"this alright babe?" he asked, looking into your eyes for a clear answer. you stared back, impatient.

"just hurry up and fuck me," you nodded.

"i could stop right now."

"you wouldn't dare," you narrowed your eyes and before he could respond, you slammed yourself onto his cock.

he let out a groan his hands making their way to the bottom of your thighs to lift you up. although the beginning was rough, he started off slow.

"you know how long i've wanted to do this to you?" he said while picking up speed. your hands instinctively went up to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he pulled them away and pinned your wrists behind your back.

you shook your head. he watched as you didn't know where to look, eyes darting everywhere. from his chest, to his eyes, all the way down to where he was currently destroying you. then you'd get embarrassed and look away to start the cycle all over again.

"hey princesa. eyes on me," he loved seeing you not know what to do. as obedient as you are, you immediately locked eyes with him. "good girl. always so good for me, hmm?"

you nearly came as soon as he said that, tightening around his thick cock.

"oh, you like that?" you knew he'd use this against you forever. but now wasn't the time for you to be worrying about that. in fact, you couldn't think at all. you were understanding what he was saying but couldn't form a single response.

"i asked you a question." he began slowing down as if you didn't answer, he'd stop entirely. and you didn't want that.

quickly you answered, "i- mm, i love it," you slurred out.

"what was that?" he went back to his ungodly pace, and it took you even longer to piece a sentence together, letting out a moan every single time he hit your g-spot. you could swear you saw a little bump in your stomach every time he was fully in.

"i fucking love it, teo," you whimpered out, every word emphasized by the slapping of his hips against the apex of your thighs.

he would've blushed at this, but considering that he had in fact, been waiting so long for this, he attempted to go even faster and harder.

you were borderline drooling, if it wasn't for mateo holding you, you'd be lying back as far as you could. you went to grab for his back, before you realized that your wrists were still in his grasp.

"need to touch you," you whined.

he contemplated for a moment before releasing his constraint on you, and while you went straight for his back, his hands went up your shirt. the cold feel against your burning skin made you jump.

he had been letting out little moans and whimpers, but you could tell he was getting close with how they increased in volume and he began rutting into you like his life depended on it.

your moans were quieted but his lips on yours, and you began to feel that telltale knot in your stomach. it was as if he noticed this, as he broke the kiss and asked, "are you gonna cum?"

if you weren't in this position getting fucked until you couldn't think, you would've said, "isn't it obvious, dumbass?" but considering the fact he had you drooling on his dick that probably wouldn't be the best response.

you hurriedly nodded, and you could see the beginning of a smirk on his face.

"c'mon hermosa, you can do it. come for me," he trailed off into a long moan as you creamed around him, feeling as mateo did one last hard thrust and buried his head in the crook of your neck to mask his sounds.

the two of you stayed still in silence, only hearing each other's heavy breaths.

"did you mess up my hair?" you asked, blowing away strands of hair from your face.

"i think if your hair was fine, it wouldn't be much of a good time," you closed your legs as soon as he slid out, feeling something hot drip out of you.

"well, i think that i need to take a nice long shower." you attempted to get off the counter as mateo put his pants back on, but he stopped you.

"let me carry you, mi princesa. don't need you tripping." he gestured to you slightly trembling thighs.

you closed your thighs tighter together in embarrassment, as if didn't just cum in you a few minutes ago. he laughed at this and went to pick you up bridal style.

"y'know, this was what i was talking about when we first met. how we could be doing something else instead of dancing."

"why the fuck did it take you so long then, hm?" you jokingly punched his chest.

"well, why did you have to search up how to ask?" he shot back.

you totally forgot you left your laptop on the bed. it was open enough for anyone that goes by to glance at it and see at least half of what was on the screen.

and he went into the room to change his clothes.

"oh, fuck you teo," you hmphed and crossed your arms.

"you just did," he winked.

I HAD TO REWRITE THIS THREE FUCKING TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDN'T SAVE. THREE. I ACTUALLY LOST IT.

also how tf do u talk about pussy. like do you say pussy? vagina? entrance? core? heat? THIS IS SO HARD. btw i was so embarrassed making this that some parts might not make sense or be repetitive. im sorry

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#never writing smut again unless yall like it #my mind is a lot worse than this i js cant put it into words #x reader #smut #mateo x reader #mateo x reader smut #gekko x reader #gekko x reader smut #valorant smut #valorant x reader smut #valorant x reader #valorant

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook says i love you for the first time.

> fluff, a twinge of angst / wc: 2.8k

> warnings: making out, false stealing accusation </3 not exactly a warning but jungkook moles appreciation moment that did things to my heart

note: hehehhe look at me procrastinating again :] as always feedback is always appreciated <3

—

“why are we hiding?”

you sigh, resting your head on jungkook’s chest. you can hear the pounding of his heart in your left ear, loud and fast from adrenaline caused by a reason still left untold.

“i’m scared of him. let’s wait for him to go inside.”

“what’s wrong? did he do something to you?” he tenses up, his protective arms wrapping themselves around your body. as if it’s possible to be further pressed up against each other in this small gap that separates the two houses sandwiching the two of you. it’s not. you’re not even quite sure how you managed to squeeze yourself in here along with your boyfriend, who is wearing a backpack.

you wince, embarrassed about your current situation. sometimes you find yourself fearing that your inborn magnet for trouble might drive him away before you can even celebrate your first anniversary. ironic. funny.

you take another glance at your neighbor’s porch, only to be disappointed to find that he’s still there, reading the newspaper while sipping on a mug. he’s an old man who lives with his teenage grandson. he’s quite famous around your neighborhood for his beautiful garden. having spent all of his precious time making the best out of the earth he was blessed with, he is deserving of the lovely compliments.

you’ve grown quite fond of this little tourist spot as well. you allow yourself a minute or two every morning to admire the flowers before going on your merry way. it’s a good reminder that you reap what you sow. perhaps one day, you will also live in your own house. with a porch, and a flower garden. and if it’s not too much to ask, a peach tree would be nice, too.

but the thing is . . . today’s visit didn’t exactly go well.

to summarize it quickly: “uhm, how do i explain this?” you chuckle nervously, looking up at jungkook. “this morning, i saw a sunflower that fell on the ground. so you know, uh- just like what any other person would do, i picked it up. but then he saw me holding it, and he accused me of stealing. which i didn’t do! clearly! then he started jogging to me while holding up his cane, so of course i got scared . . . and ran away.”

“but you’re not hurt anywhere, right?” he tenderly strokes your face, illuminated by the warm streetlamp, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“i’m alright.” your abashed eyes meet his, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. “i probably overreacted, honestly. my flight response just activated.”

“no- he sounded threatening. of course you got scared.” he interjects, frowning.

“if i avoid him for a while, he would forget about me eventually, right?”

“oh, my baby,” he surprises you with a quick kiss on the lips, followed by another. “how can anyone accuse you of stealing?”

you unsuccessfully hold back a smile, hiding yourself between the unzipped confines of his jacket to muffle the loud beating of your heart inside your ribcage. you can hear it in your ears, and you’re embarrassed that he might also does.

he chuckles, pressing a kiss on the back of your head. “let’s come out, baby. there’s no reason to hide. i’ll protect you if he comes for you again. we’ll clear things up.”

“but i just don’t want to put you in that situation, you know? i’ll figure it out myself.” you come out for air, but his sweet perfume lingers in your nose like a vivid memory. “and this is so comfortable. let’s just hug here for a little while.”

nobody speaks for a beat.

“okay then. let’s keep each other warm.” his embrace tightens, and you hear the crinkle of the plastic bag hanging on his forearm.

“hmmm, sounds nice.” you hum, closing your eyes to bask in the peaceful atmosphere.

this is one of the things that makes jungkook’s presence in your life very special. when you’re with him, you’re only aware of your heart. your mind stills and quiets, and your heart takes over. pumping to the beat of ‘hold on to this, hold on to him’. and that’s not difficult to do, especially when he makes it clear that he bears no plans of letting go of you either.

it’s been seven days since you last saw him, since you were last held like this. you know you’re both busy, but seeing his face on a tiny screen before bed just isn’t the same as feeling his warm body.

when you got home earlier this evening, you discovered that the lightbulb in your bathroom went out. it’s the first time you’ve had to change one since you moved to this apartment, so you never really realized that the ceiling is too high for you to reach. you attemped to remove the lightbulb to see if you could handle the task yourself. you stacked the two chairs you have and stood on the tips of your toes, but to no avail. your efforts proved futile.

when jungkook called, you were already at the hardware store to pick up lightbulbs with extras to keep for future emergencies.

“can i sleep over tonight? i miss you.”

“of course, baby. but i’m at the hardware store right now. i need my bathroom light changed.”

you heard a zipper closing from the other line, followed by rustling. “the one infront of a pet shop?”

“yeah,” you were browsing through the wide selection of lightbulbs, having an existential crisis because you’ve never truly given this object much thought in your life. you used to just grab one and leave, but you were talking to jungkook, so you took your time tonight.

they even sell four-foor-long lightbulbs in here? wow, there are chandeliers over there. are you in this stage of your life now? finding stuff such as house fixtures interesting?

“okay, wait for me there so we can walk home together. it’s getting late.”

“okay,” you responded with a foolish grin. the thought of holding hands with him while walking got your ankle twisting before the sole of your shoe brushed across the floor to express your giddiness.

if jungkook carries on spoiling you like this, it’s going to become harder and harder to imagine your life without him. having him, and belonging to him, it could make or break you. it’s . . . terrifying. nevertheless, it’s a risk you found yourself wanting to take no matter the consequences.

you love him. you love him. damn it, you love him. the lights laid out infront of you could light up all at once, and in your eyes, he would still shine brighter. your hands shook, restless in your limbs, craving to be touched by your man.

—

“have you eaten dinner?” you ask, knowing how hard he worked today.

for a guy who claims to hate texting, he sure does text you a lot. he sent you pictures throughout dance practice. he had a big smile on his face at the beginning, saying he was ready to work hard. later on, he showed what he had for lunch. and then it ended with him slumped in a corner, face and neck sweaty, zoning out.

“i had meat and rice. but i feel more energized after seeing you.” you jokingly huff at his answer, and he chuckles. “did you not miss me too?”

“why else do you think i’ve been hugging you for the past ten minutes?” you remove your hold on his waist, throwing your arms over his shoulders instead. his earring brushes against your cheek, but you endure the cold metal to keep him this close.

“can i have a kiss?”

you pull away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “come get it then.”

and one hell of a magnet for trouble you are.

enchanted, he drinks in your features. from the arch of your eyelids, down to your cupid’s bow. he marvels at the stars that make up your beauty, the stars he crawls home to at the end of each passing day.

he offers you a sweet smile, and next thing you know, your back is pressed against the wall, your weak knees buckling, and your fidgety hands tangled in his soft hair. you don’t know how kissing came to be an act of intimacy and romance, but your lips caressing jungkook’s lips, the subtle brush of his tongue against yours, and his hands squeezing your hips— visceral, euphoric, devotion. it makes sense. it all makes sense to you. when is the mouth at its most honest, if not when it is kissing?

he pulls away to nuzzle his face on your neck, warm breath contrasting the chilly spring night. “don’t pick up flowers on the ground again. i promise i’ll get them for you more often from now on.”

“you promise?”

“i promise.” and he seals it with one final kiss on the corner of your lips, curved upwards by a delighted smile.

you take another peek at the porch, itching to finally take off your shoes and to change into your snug pajamas. “oh my god, he’s gone. all the lights are out.”

jungkook is the first one to wiggle out from the confined space, and you follow suit with your hand held tightly by his. you whimper in discomfort when you feel numbness and tingling on your right foot, pausing for a second to stomp it on the ground before catching up to your boyfriend’s pace. a breeze blows as you pass by the house you ran away from this morning, causing you to visibly shiver. your boyfriend notices, and so, he pulls you to his side and rubs your arm to provide you warmth to the best of his abilities.

“you’re so cold, baby. why don’t you wear gloves?”

“it’s too hot when i wear them.” you complain with lips forming a pout. “being cold is better.”

you’d rather have his hands keep you warm, so at least until winter arrives again, you will remain stubborn and gloveless. however, you are forced to briefly part when you reach the staircase leading to your apartment. you hold onto the left railing, him to the right, and you reunite at the final step.

your apartment is the fourth door straight ahead. you enter your personal space with jungkook secretly excited about getting to use his spare key. two pairs of sneakers are lazily left on the welcome home mat, and two pairs of socks are tossed in the laundry basket.

after shrugging off his backpack and jacket on your bed, your boyfriend goes straight to the bathroom with one of your newly bought lightbulbs. the stacked chairs are still there, and he laughs to himself when he realizes that you attempted to reach for the ceiling.

he makes sure the switch is turned off before climbing on the chairs, his heels slightly rising so he can use strength without losing balance. he replaces the burnt out lightbulb with the new one in under a minute.

“you already changed it?” you exclaim in surprise, flicking the switch to see it for yourself. alas, a bright light fills every corner of your bathroom. “you’re a lifesaver!”

your cheek is rewarded with a kiss as he passes by to bring back the chairs to your kitchen. “you’re welcome.”

“oh, babe! if you get hungry, i still have chicken in the fridge from earlier. do you want me to heat them up?” you trail behind him while hugging your bath towel.

“i’ll do it myself. go wash up now, so we can go to bed.” he separates the chairs and places them back at their designated places around your dining table.

you sigh as you are reminded of the task assigned to you tonight. “i need to do my readings before bed, though.”

“you’re not done with that yet?”

”i have two chapters left.”

you fell asleep on your desk last night doing the same thing. and if yelling at you through the video call didn’t work? he would’ve gone all the way to your house just to carry you to bed. but he’s with you tonight, so he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore.

“then can i watch a movie on your laptop?”

—

you originally planned to study on your desk, as a diligent and studious person would normally do. does lying on the bed, where you rest and sleep, make sense? no. however, it’s not exactly the bed you find inviting. it’s jungkook, looking all cuddly in his oversized shirt and pajama bottoms, with your laptop sitting on his naked lap (he bunched up his bottoms to his thighs because he realized it’s warmer on your bed than he initially predicted). it also seems that he found the headphones you forgot you left on the couch yesterday.

compared to your bed, the desk looks awfully grim. and so, you crawl between your boyfriend’s legs, carrying your two-inch thick book and blue highlighter. he squeezes your body for a second, not missing a chance to plant another kiss on your face before letting you settle down with your back against his torso.

the next hour and a half is spent in silence, mostly. you’re leaning to the side, the lamp shading the pages of your book. your eyes are watering under your glasses, and you wipe the tears away carefully with your thumb. beneath you, jungkook is watching the notebook, said it’s been years since he saw it for the first time and he already forgot the plot.

you can hear the sounds spilling from the headphones, barely, really, but it’s still there. you can also feel the laptop starting to heat up, slightly burning your thighs carrying its weight. it’s been sleeping on your desk the whole time you were gone, after all. you don’t mind. it feels oddly comfortable, warm. you’re not sure if it’ll remain that way by the time the movie concludes, but you’ll just have to cross the bridge when you get there.

your eyes. your eyes just won’t stop bothering you. the tears are streaming down into your ear. they’re begging for a rest. left with no other choice, you put down the book, sliding the highlighter in between the open pages. you close your eyes for a minute, and using your finger, you write the alphabet on jungkook’s knee to keep your mind awake. you’ll never know, but the heart you draw after the letters j and k puts a fond smile on his face.

your eyelids flutter open, and your gaze lands on his thigh. bewitched, the tip of your finger has a mind of its own. this time, it traces the two moles adorning his delicate honey skin, crossing the distance between them back and forth.

“these are my favorite.” you whisper absentmindedly, unaware that your boyfriend has paused his movie due to your distracting touches.

he leans his cheek on your temple, warm hands sliding under your shirt to rest on your tummy. “i thought your favorite is the one under my lip?”

“oh,” you sleepily blink in realization. “i’m torn. the ones on your thigh are so cute. and unique. they’re like childhood friends.”

his quiet laughter turns into a fit of giggles when you pinch at the space in between, drawing an elephant with his moles as the eyes, just as he demonstrated the first night you slept on the same bed.

“i think you need to go to sleep, baby.”

you contemplate between work and sleep, blankly staring at the book. “how much longer until you finish the movie?”

“mhmmm,” his finger slides across the touchpad to make the remaining time appear at the bottom of the screen. “thirty-two minutes?”

“then i’ll wait for you so we can sleep together.” you force yourself to pick up the book again, scanning the paragraphs to find where you left off.

another scattered kiss is placed on your skin, where your shoulder and collarbone meet. and he doesn’t understand why this feels like the perfect moment to say the three magical words for the first time, when you’re barely awake and his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid he’s going faint. he planned for this to be more special and romantic, but this, tonight . . . it only feels right.

more than a confession, it’s an everlasting promise. he wants to let you know that he’s not going anywhere. you don’t have to grasp your time with him like water in your hands. when you wake up later this morning, he’s going to be by your side. and the next hundred thousand mornings after that. it means he is steady, and he is sure— body, heart, and soul. it means he is honest, and he is patient. it means he carries you in his heart like a locket hanging on his neck everywhere he goes. it means he believes love is true when it is given.

he stutters your name, which he rarely uses when talking to you. but your brain is too fuzzy to recognize that fact, and you only hum in question as you try your damn hardest to absorb the words you’re reading.

“i love you. i don’t mind if you sleep first. i know you had a long day.”

—

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[papayatori]

Don’t Blink! (P6)

LN4 x fém!reader

Warnings: none

It was Sunday, it was race day. I stood in the McLaren garage waiting for the buzzed excitement to die down a bit, my own excitement contributing to the electricity.

Oscar had taken it upon himself to show me around earlier this morning, much to Lando’s objection. What Oscar really wanted was to ask me what had happened last night between me and Lando.

“You mean you fell asleep on him and you still don’t believe you have feelings for each other?” I rubbed the back of my neck, a sheepish smile growing on my face.

“I just don’t want to ruin what I’ve got. It’d be super awkward at my new job if I did.” He nodded his approval before frowning again.

“You’ve got to take that chance when you really love someone, y/n.”

As much as I wanted to disagree, I knew he was right.

I now sat in the garage, watching as the grid lined up and had started to prepare themselves for the race itself. I was utterly terrified that something would go wrong. Though, I had my camera regardless. I got a few shots of the lineup, some better than others. I also got a few that were rather dramatic and exhilarating. I was quite proud of myself despite the task at hand. Task at hand being, keep my eyes off of Lando Norris.

"And that's lights out and away we go-" I heard Croft over the loudspeakers commentating. I had also gotten the perfect starting photo. I would definitely be posting this one later.

...

...

...

I was shaking. Lando had reported some issues with the car, he had already been in the pits multiple times this race and his car was still malfunctioning. I had heard them conversing through the headsets behind me. I was starting to break out into a sweat. When Lando pulled in for his sixth pit, I knew there wasn't any coming back from it. He sounded pissed, as if he was thinking the exact same thing I was. I was just happy he hadn't crashed.

Lando had finished last, first race of the season and setting to tone for the rest of the evening. Hopefully it wouldn't set the tone for the whole season.

I ran to the car as he exited and stepped into the garage and threw my arms around him. I knew he had had a bad race, I knew he would be feeling it. His face gleamed with sweat, making it incredibly difficult to pull my eyes from him once we separated. To my satisfaction, he smiled. "Lando, what happened out there today? Six visits to the pit is rather concerning.." I heard one comment as we walked off of the paddock. He wasn't as bothered by the camera's as much as I was, regardless if I literally had one around my neck or not. Lan did stop eventually, taking a few questions but keeping me behind him protectively. Oscar had been behind us, sandwiching me between the two of them as if they were bodyguards, even though I had the McLaren uniform on myself. "Yeah, I guess you could say it was good practice for the mechanics today." Lando chuckled lightly before being dismissed. His eyes immediately found mine. I saw the different emotions mixed into that one small look he gave me. He continued to glance back at me until we got away from the crowds. Paparazzi had swarmed the sides where they could stand, cameras flashing in every direction, it would be suicide if Lando had looked at me too long or held my hand the way I wished he could have. It saddened me that I wanted everyone to know my feelings for Lando, well that is everyone besides Lando apparently. It warmed my heart every time he would glance back to make sure I was okay. With every glance, the burning sensation in my heart intensified, and the more I wanted that entire paddock to know who he belonged to, even though he didn't belong to me at all. Oscar was right, I needed to talk to him tonight.

The walk back to the hotel was rather refreshing. The boys were talking about they're races and how they felt about it while I sort of hung in between the two of them. The city itself was beautiful. Bahrain's white, sandy beaches as the sun had started to set along the seemingly endless horizon was a site a camera couldn't completely capture; though to my credit, I did try. I was taking pictures of the whole city by now, trying my very best to capture the beauty of it without taking for granted the lively bustle of it. I found myself lost in the folds of the city, aimlessly following the bright papaya coloured shirts in front of me while I tried to continually capture the magnificence of Bahrain. If I had only been paying attention, I would have heard the conversation the two in front of me were having. Though, I saw Oscar flash me a smile midway through that conversation and felt the worry turn my stomach. I'd more than likely hear about this later. Not paying attention, I also didn't realize the boys had stopped. I was trying to get a good image of one of the shops across the street and I had kept walking to adjust myself. I wasn't looking forward, and I had ran straight into Lando. His arms immediately caught me before I could fall, because God knows I wasn't heavy or strong enough to knock him over, steading me in his arms. I felt the blush creep up my neck, not only in embarrassment, but also the fact that his hands sent fire through my body wherever he touched me. This was not good.

"Sorry!" I yelled, trying to focus myself on the picture rather than his hands that were still firmly around my waist. I could almost hear Oscar smiling from behind us, as if he had planned this. "You just couldn't help but fall for me, huh?" Surprised, I looked up at the smirking Brit that held onto me. I scowled, attempting to wriggle from his grasp but to no avail. "Careful, darling. Letting you go would do you no good, you'd just fall back into me." Lando continued smirking, followed by a snort from behind us. "Okay you two, lets go inside." I heard Oscar say, and for once, I was happy he spoke up.

I wasn't sure what about that interaction made me so angry. I wasn't sure why I was fuming as I walked back into my hotel room and almost slammed the door behind me. I wasn't even sure why I never said anything to them as I did. Maybe it's because Lan was right, I had fallen for him. Not to mention, if he had let me go, I wouldn't recover. Every moment Lando and I had shared had started to make it's way through my brain, forcing me to remember all of it. They all continued to replay before my very eyes, forcing me to see the way he looked at me, feel the way the air changed if something was wrong, hear the sound of kindness lacing his words. That kindness was addicting, his words were addicting, his voice itself was laced with enticing poison. Poison that I would gladly inject into my veins for the rest of my life if he'd give me the chance.

My head found it's way into my hands as I slid down the door I had just slammed behind me. I heard the two conversing outside, wondering what they had done wrong. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and I knew exactly who it was, but I was too much a coward to answer it. So instead, I sat there and wallowed in self pity. I let myself feel everything that I had been holding back on since our first 'date' a week ago. I let myself relive everything until my heart couldn't take it anymore. I sat there for hours, until I thought no one else would be awake to hear me crumble to pieces.

That's when I heard a soft knock on my door. My body answered before my brain could tell it otherwise, causing me to audibly groan before finally opening the door. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong." I saw Lan standing in front of my door with a flower in his hand, the same flower that he had brought to me the morning after we met. How on Earth he had managed to find a flower shop that would sell him just one in the middle of Bahrain on a Sunday evening I have no idea. Noticing my lack of response, his eyes searched mine frantically. "I can give you space if you need it-" "You were right." I cut him off, receiving a look of relief that I had responded that was tailed by a confused tilt of his head. "I was?" "I think I need to talk to you." He took the hint, following me inside and setting the flower down on the small table in front of the couch. He sat beside me, eyeing me with curiosity and worry. There was something else in his eyes as he searched mine, something I couldn't place and it was driving me crazy. Not like he didn't already drive me crazy. "Are you okay, at least?" He asked, begging me for some sort of hint as to why the hell I ran off. "Do you need anything?" Before I could even respond my face was buried in my hands again. Lando's hand started rubbing circles on my back comfortingly, as if I had been the one to pit six times during the first race of the season today. Some friend I am. With a groan, I pulled myself back up and repositioned myself to face him on the couch, my legs crossed in front of me. His hand fell to the side and I immediately missed his touch. "If I don't tell you this now I'm absolutely never going to say anything and it's going to eat away at me like it has been doing for the last week." He nodded, begging me to continue and give him anything. He had positioned himself to face me as well, as if taking the hint that I didn't even mean to give him. "When I bumped into you, you had said that I couldn't help but fall for you." I laughed, feeling stupid already. I saw his body tense a little. "I didn't mean anything by it, I knew that was-" "You were right." He stopped trying to talk, he just looked at me. I felt my heart shatter when he didn't say anything. "I'm sorry if this ruins-" I didn't even finish my sentence before I felt a soft pair of lips on my own. His arm wrapped itself around my waist, pulling my body closer to his until he was laying on his back, me on top of him. We were in a similar position that we were in last night, except this time I didn't have to wonder what his lips tasted like. He pulled away, gazing into my eyes with that emotion that I had been trying to crack for the last week. No way in hell- "You have no idea hard it is to restrain myself when we're alone." He said, voice low and soft. "I'm not sure how much longer I could have before giving up." I felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath me as well as his speeding heart. Or maybe that was my own pulse throbbing? I couldn't tell anymore as we had fallen back into a heavy kiss that was far more important than the rhythm of my heart. I smiled into the kiss, thankful Oscar had pushed me into this mess of emotions and forced me to open it up. I felt my walls collapsing around me as Lando pulled away, allowing us both to breathe. I smiled at him, finally being able to stare into those beautiful eyes of his that reminded me of the seas surrounding us currently in Bahrain. "I suppose now you can obsess over my eyes openly, darling." He said, smirking in the process. I pinched his arm with a sly grin of my own. "I suppose you can tell me how pretty mine are to my face rather than telling Oscar." There wasn't a trace of a smile on his face after mentioning that. I couldn't cackled. "He told you about that?" " 'said you never shut up about me." I snorted, I couldn't help it. His face was priceless. "I think it's safe to say that it paid off though, don't 'ya thing?" I smiled a real smile now, gazing back into his eyes. "I guess." He kissed me tenderly, pulling away breathless.

I lay on his chest until I heard him snoring lightly beneath me, until I had found myself dozing on top of him. My heart was beating quickly still, as if not used to this yet. Though, I still couldn't argue, this bastard knew what he was doing. With his arms wrapped tightly and securely around me, I found myself tumbling into the folds of slumber with a smile on my face, my last image being the flower on the table in front of me before I fell completely.

tag list!(Let me know if you want to be tagged) @kapsylia @venus-willow

#don’t blink #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 x y/n #lando x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #oscar piastri #ln4 x y/n #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #f1 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren

[evercries]

hatred soon turned into desire . ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ nanami office au x reader.

ʚ🍊ɞ “No, you don’t understand. He’s the absolutely worst boss I’ve ever had, and I worked with a manager who hated me for three years before I quit that job. He’s the worst, believe me.” You paused, grabbed your sandwich and proceeded to chew on it before continuing, with food in your mouth. “Did you see what he said today during the meeting? Like, how was I supposed to know the file size was 11x7 rather than 8x9? Or that the font was supposed to be Times New Roman rather than Arial? Is it just me that wants him to stop speaking? His voice annoys me.” You paused again, took another bite, and continued. “Did you see his tie today? How do you wear an orange tie with a black outfit? Okay, pumpkin. You should fix your problem before attacking my wonderful ideas. Could that be the reason he doesn’t have a wife? Ha, even a wife, sorry, a significant other. Oh, wait, no, even a date.” You giggled at your side comment as you continued to chew on your sandwich before finally staring straight at your friends who had a nervous expression on their faces. You raised an eyebrow at them, mouthing what, before they pointed at you. You pointed at yourself before turning your head around to see your boss standing behind you, his eyes staring down at you, there stood Nanami. 

Nervously smiling at him, you turned your head around again to your friends, closing your eyes and closing your mouth, hoping he just passed by and pretended nothing happened. He definitely did not do that. 

"Instead of stuffing your face with food, why aren't you fixing your mistakes before you walk out of this building with a box, Miss, L/N?” Nanami asked, his gaze still on you. You wanted to bury yourself right there in the cafeteria. After a few seconds, you lifted your head and stared at your friends, who continued to smile and act as if they didn't know you. You wondered if Nanami was gone. However, when you turned your head, you saw him still standing there. "Scumbag," you mumbled, giggled, and grabbed your bowl of green apples and your bag before standing up and walking towards the stairs. ʚ🍊ɞ

Midway through, you turned around and playfully targeted your middle finger at Nanami, while his attention was still on your friends. Your friends saw your gesture and gasped, causing Nanami to turn his head. You quickly started waving with a smile before walking away to your office, with a disgusted look on your face. You hated him. His tie looked tight enough to strangle him with. That quote caused you to giggle as you sat down at your desk, put an apple into your mouth, and laid your feet on your desk while chewing slowly, but cheerfully.

Just then, Nanami's assistant, Diana, entered your office with a pile of papers in her hand. Surprised by your position, she coughed and smiled at you before dropping the large pile of papers on your desk. The desk made a loud noise, causing you to swallow hard. You let out a loud wheeze as you choked, and the large pile of papers seemed intentional. Diana smiled softly at your reaction before turning around and walking away. You remained shocked and placed your head on your desk, dramatically sobbing, as you knew you'd be staying at work on a Friday night instead of heading to the club. You hated him so much.

As the night continued, you watched your friends and colleagues walk out early, while you still had a lot of paperwork to complete before you could go home. Sighing, you rubbed underneath your eyes before glancing over at the clock located in your office in front of where your desk was, hung your head against the headboard of your chair when you read 2AM. You decided it was time to break your promise, glancing down at the last drawer of your desk, you bend over to open it, exposing a bottle containing different types of sweets. You grabbed three of your favourites, the orange flavoured, cherry flavoured, and caramel flavoured before chewing on them slowly in your mouth as you continued your work. On the final paperwork, you had to get the signature of the administrator who was running the merge process. Standing up, you could feel the tiredness in your legs, grabbed the piece of paper before heading through the hallways of the company towards Nanami’s office. You could see the lights still on, oh, no. He was actually there. You slipped through his wide opened door as a dramatic gesture before walking over to him, but he had his eyes covered with a soft cloth. You just stood there, your eyes glancing down at his covered face as he rested in his chair, if he wasn’t so cruel, you probably would’ve fallen for him.

Wait, what? You would’ve fallen for him? Even that thought surprised you as you made an uncomfortable expression. 

“How long are you going to stand there and stare?” A voice interrupted your thoughts, you glanced down to see Nanami reach out to remove the cloth from his face, sitting up before finally staring at you with a tired expression, or at least that’s what his eyes told you. You coughed before handing him the folder, which he didn’t collect immediately, he just stared at you. Being impatient and tired, you dropped the folder carelessly on the table, causing it to fall on the ground beside Nanami’s feet. Both of you watching it fall stared at each other, the folder on the ground, back at each other before you reached out to grab it at the exact time Nanami bent over causing both of you to collide, hitting your head against his.

“Ouch?” You squealed as you stepped back, your hand over your head as you tried to rub the pain away. Nanami groaned for a few seconds before placing the folder on the desk. 

“You should've placed it carefully on the desk.” He said with an annoyed tone. You finally had enough of his nonsense, once in a day was okay, but he had now ruined your beautiful face with his enormous head. 

“You should’ve been less of a scumbag and accepted the folder when I gave it to you the first time. How about that? Blaming someone for your immaturity is embarrassing, especially for you.” You spoke, the words rolling off your tongue before you could stop them yourself. This caused you to make a shocked face, stare at him with his widened eyes before smiling nervously. “I didn’t just say that.”

“You did just say that.” Nanami said, his head nodding in agreement. He had heard everything, goodness. You were screwed.  ʚ🍊ɞ

Nanami stood up, placed the piece of cloth on his table before walking to where you were. He stared down at you with that demeanour he had given earlier that day, his hand reached out and grabbed your chin, turned your head towards him as he observed the wound on your forehead caused by an altercation between both of you. Him being close up to you had to be different because his facial features started appearing out of nowhere, his grip on your chin was doing something to you. You weren’t sure if it was the hot temperature in that office, the apples you had earlier, the lack of sleep, but god, he was attractive. His blonde hair being slicked back, his brown eyes carefully paying attention to you as his jaw clenched.

"You'll survive," he said, his deep, sharp tone snapping you back to reality as you coughed. His left eyebrow raised upon hearing the cough escape from your lips. "You're sick too?" he wondered, removing his hand from your chin. He pushed his glasses closer to his eyes, ran his hand through his hair, and walked back to his desk. You nodded. Yes, he was your arrogant boss and enemy. Reminding yourself of this, you started to walk towards his door. However, you glanced back to stare at him again and completely forgot that you were walking, mesmerized by his eyes. As a result, you walked straight into the door and tumbled backwards, causing Nanami to turn around. He blinked, trying to figure out why you were on the ground, before bursting into laughter. It started as a small snicker and then turned into loud laughter. You could feel the heat rising in your face.

You caught yourself, dusted your pants before standing up. Nanami stopped laughing, giggled one last time before finally opening the folder and just like that, his expression changed. He seemed focused as he read through the paper, stared at you, held the folder up with a raised eyebrow and a pissed smirk across his face. “What is this?”

“The proposal, what else?”

“A death note?” He questioned, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. You were confused on what he was talking about, walked over to where he was, stared at him, the form before taking it from his hand and reading the paper that was inside. It was the rant letter you had written after receiving the piles of paperwork to finish, you swore you threw it out after you were finished. Judging from your facial expressions, Nanami stood there with a straight face at you. 

“Haha.” You said, laughing nervously at him, but he joined in as he laughed too. Both of you smiled, pointed to the letter filled with insults targeted at him, written by you, the employee, before your smile soon faded. You were already on the verge of getting fired anyway, anything you said wouldn’t be compared to the words used in that vent letter. 

“I wrote it.”

“What?”

“I said, I wrote it.”

Clearly confused, Nanami crosses his arms as he waits for you to say another one of your annoying jokes, but you just stare at him. “So?”

“So, fire me.”

“Oh, really?”

He was doing it again, the lip bite he normally did when he wanted to stop himself from laughing, his hands rubbing around his mouth area with a huge smirk appearing on the corner of his lips. 

“No, actually, not really, but I didn’t mean anything by that. I did mean something, but it isn’t that bad. Actually, no, that’s bad, that’s worse. What am I even doing? Just don’t fire me, okay? I like the food made in the cafeteria.” You said, trying to seem apologetic, but in reality everything you mentioned on the letter was true, he was a jerk who loved adding unnecessary work on you when he had a group, a team for that. 

“Including the part where you said you’d spread my legs?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You wrote it, I’m just repeating the lines I read.” Nanami stated as he gestured to the last line of the letter, surrounded with hearts, where you said you’d gladly spread his legs. When did I write that? You wondered, being absolutely confused by this sentence and also grossed out when it was your own handwriting. 

“I think I was referring to something else. I’d definitely never feel that way towards you, of all people.” ʚ🍊ɞ

Nanami pulled you closer to you as both of you stared into each other's eyes, mesmerized, attached, in each other as the distance between both of you soon closed, your lips meeting each other. The kiss was slow, but you could feel the passion, warmth and affection from Nanami. That slow and gentle kiss soon turned into Nanami kissing you passionately, his hand held onto your hips as his other hand held your face carefully, drawing you closer to him. Your hands went to his face, you could feel your body heating up, and there you were, instead of finishing your work, you were in your bosses room, making out with the man you cursed for months.

♡ a small draft i found. ♡ for any drafts or preview, my discord is evercries. =^}

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nananmi kento #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen au #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustsu nanami #jjk kento #kento nanami #kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 tags #ao3 stuff

[roadkillremi]

Older randy is killing me right now, can you do something where reader and randy are at a gathering (with like Chad and mindy) and reader teases and touches him all night?

I completely understand

I am a whore for Dilf Randy!

Impatient

Uncle! Randy X F! Reader

(^the line in the gif above has nothing to do with the plot of the fic)

MasterList

Summary : The ask above. Randy is 39 and Chad and Mindy are 15.

Warnings : Language, Minors DNI, Smut, masturbating, Car sex, p in V, degrading, cream pie.

You were quite a touchy person, you always had your hand on him. You were also used to being alone with him at home. So it got exhausting when you couldn't have him to yourself for about a week.

Randy and you went to Woodsboro for Thanksgiving. You'd all watch movies and play board games together. Go out to town and shopping together. Which you loved spending time with your family. You just wanted to have Randy to yourself.

Randy was in the kitchen trying to make himself a grilled cheese. You tiptoed in and hugged him from behind. You sighed relief into his back, you leaned into him.

"Tired?" He gently asked. You shook your head no, "I just miss... us time.". Randy glanced over with a slight smirk, "Uh-huh. Well we're going home in two days.". You lightly stomped your foot in protest. Randy turned himself towards you and raised an eyebrow. You looked up at him, "Maybe we can get a hotel room...".

"You are just like a child." He chuckled. He went back to his sandwich, you crossed your arms. You stood beside him leaning over to see his face.

"You're telling me you haven't wanted alone time at all?" You whispered. He smiled, "Of course I do...". You grab the belt of his pants pulling him closer, "Then one night... one hour..". He sighed, "I'll think about it...".

You smiled kissing him, he leaned towards you before going back to his cooking. You smiled playfully smacking his ass before walking away.

You sat on the couch waiting for Randy to bring you food. You watched The Attack Of Mars as you waited. Mindy watched the film making snarky remarks. Randy soon walked out balancing three plates in his hands. He placed them on the coffee table before plopping on the couch beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders leaning into your side. You cuddled into his side taking a bite of your sandwich.

Mindy got up, "Imma go to the bathroom.".

"Alright." Randy bit into his sandwich. You immediately put your plate down and pulled him into a kiss. The crumbs on his lips crashed into yours.

"Really?" He smirked. You smiled, "I just wanted to kiss you.". Randy leaned back into his seat, "Just a kiss?". You slid your hand on his thigh, his part slightly.

"Please, Randy..." you mumbled. He took a Shakey breath watching your hand slide up. He gave you a small smile, "maybe.". You whined softly grabbing his hand leading to your inner thigh.

Slam

You pushed Randy's hand away as Mindy walked out. You resumed the movie leaning into Randy. He had a goofy smile as he looked down at you. You glared up at him, "Is everything okay?" Mindy interrupted.

"Yeah your aunt's just grumpy." Randy smiled at Mindy. You glanced over, "I'm just tired.". She nodded going back to the movie.

Moments later Martha came in with Chad.

"We're back from grocery shopping!" She announced. You got up to help her with the bags. She handed you some, "I'm going to make lamb for dinner. It'll take about two hours though." Martha explained.

"That's fine. I just made grilled cheese so." Randy leaned against the wall into the kitchen.

"I'm gonna go take a nap." You glanced at Randy.

"Alright." Martha smiled at you. You walked to the room climbing into bed. You laid down hugging the pillow.

Maybe Randy would come in. You bit your lip at the thought of him. Your hand traveled into your pants. You sighed trying to imagine it being his hand.

His hand gently separates the lips while dragging his finger through. His fingers pinching your clit then rubbing it. His wide fingers curving on your pulsing walls. You wanted to squeeze around his fingers keeping them there. You moaned softly clenching, you moved your hips slightly.

"Oh my god.." Randy muttered. You quickly sat up, "I..".

"You were touching yourself." He started down at you. You studied his body, "Yeah..".

"To think I was gonna fuck your brains out." He smirked.

"What?" You scooted off the bed. He waved his hand, "You got your fun apparently.".

"No. Wait." You grabbed his wrist. He looked down at you, "You should have just been patient.". You pouted a bit, "Don't leave.".

"I wasn't planning on it.." he sat on the bed. You sat by him eagerly, "I'm not fucking you." He laughed.

"Why not?" You gently cupped his bulge. He gasped, "Don't act like you haven't been getting hard for me.". He breathed heavily, "You're such a tease. That's why I'm not fucking you.". You sighed and laid down, "But I want you.".

"If only you waited for me.".

"Just finger me! Or I'll blow you... or I can ride your thigh" you begged. He chuckled, "As tempting as that is. Nope.".

"You're an ass." You mumbled.

"I know." He smirked. He got up and went to the door, "Oh and wash your hands before you come out here." He joked. You rolled your eyes and sat up.

During dinner Randy didn't say much. Which was surprising, he ate his food not even looking at you. You gently placed your hand on his thigh. He gave you a soft smile as a response. Once dinner was over Randy grabbed the car keys.

"We'll be right back." He grabbed your hand leading you outside to the car. You seemed confused as you followed him.

"What are you doing?" You questioned. He unlocked the car and opened the door to the back seat. You looked at him, "Get in.." he smirked. You nodded scooting in, he got in behind you closing the door and locking it. He pinned you down to the car seats.

"I couldn't take it anymore..." he groaned. He quickly unbuckled his jeans, your eyes widen reaching down to your pants to shove them off. He opened your legs pushing them down.

"Fucking touching yourself like that." He mumbled. He entered and quickly slammed into you. You gasped throwing your head back.

"You're so.. needy.." he groaned. You nodded moaning softly as he continued. He leaned down close to you, "So fucking hot... I couldn't keep saying no to you.". You bit your lip looking up at him.

"is that it? Just needed my cock to shut you up?" He teased. You nodded clenching your walls around him. His lips twitched upwards as he continued. One of his hands lifted your shirt up exposing your chest.

"And not wearing a bra to dinner? Such a whore.." he smiled. You whimpered in response, he grabbed your waist helping you sit up. You lazily leaned against his body, "Is this what you wanted?".

"Yes.." you groaned. He grabbed the side of your neck to force you to look up at him. You fluttered your eyes open lazily moaned. He grinned continuing to abuse your core.

"Thank you..." you muttered. He smiled, "Shh. Don't thank me.". You whined leaning against him, his fingers dug into your hips. He grunted, "Imma fill you up.". You whimpered, "mhm..".

"You want that?" He smirked looking down at you. You nodded nuzzling your face against his neck. He lifted your hips up and shoved them down. You yelped in pleasure as he pulled you down. You lazily moved your hips in circles along with him. He groaned softly, "I'm... I'm so close.".

You looked up at him with a lopsided grin. He breathed roughly as he lifted you up and down. Once he came he squeezed your hips with a soft grunt. You leaned against his chest whimpering.

"We should go inside before they come looking for us." He whispered. You shook your head, "I don't want to go. I just want to stay with you..".

"I know..." he laid you down and pulled out. He lifted your legs up to see his release in your folds. He smiled pushing it in with his fingers. You whimpered trying to close your legs around him. He forced your legs back open,he slowly took his fingers out. He shoved them in your mouth for you to taste. You sucked off his fingers tasting his come.

"Ata Girl.. " he smiled. He pulled his pants up and helped you sit up. He slid your pants back on you and fixed your hair.

"Mm, look at you. About to walk in full of my come." He smiled.

#scream #horror #ghostface #randy meeks #billy loomis #randy meeks x reader #randy scream #scream franchise #scream 2 #billy loomis x y/n #uncle randy #randy meeks x y/n #randy meeks smut #randy meeks scream #scream movies #scary movies #scream 1996 #stu macher smut #scream smut #billy loomis smut #billy loomis x oc #billy loomis x stu matcher #billy loomis x stu macher #billy loomis x reader

[samsaurwrites]

Truth or Dare (Belphie x Reader x Beel NSFW Oneshot)

Belphie art by Saphire240400

▶ PLAYING ~ ❝ MIND GAMES ❞   "You had lost the game before it had ever even begun."

Truth or Dare (Belphie x fem!Reader x Beel, ~3k words)

Agreeing to a game of Truth or Dare with the youngest two demon brothers may not have been your best idea...

@asmos-pet, @blueparadis (thank you so much for organizing this!! i had a ton of fun participating 😏)

Tags: Belphegor Being a Little Shit (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mean Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Dom Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Soft Dom Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub Has a Large Penis (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Truth or Dare (but make it sexy), Threesome - F/M/M, Attic Club Sandwich, Mildly Dubious Consent, Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Extremely Dubious Consent, Inappropriate Use of Demon Powers (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Double Penetration, Under-negotiated Kink, Implied Marathon Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Read here or on AO3.

You had lost the game before it had ever even begun.

You should have known by the look on Belphie’s face when he’d suggested it, the way his lips twisted into a syrupy sweet smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You should have known by the way Beel glanced at his brother, the way he looked at you, sheepish and unsure.

But you agreed. Ignored the butterflies in your stomach—the ones that wriggled and writhed and warned, the ones that made your legs tremble as you climbed the spiral staircase up to the attic. 

“So,” you begin, shifting on the plush little pillow they had given you, seated on the floor near Belphie’s bed. “It’s just Truth or Dare? Like we play back in the human world?”

“Yeah,” Belphie says, smirking lazily over at you from his own pillow. “And if you don’t want to answer or do the dare—” he sets down a large bottle of demonus and a single shot glass between the three of you. “—then you drink.”

You should have realized—should have known the dangerous game you were getting yourself into—when your heart lurches in your, when nerves steal your voice and, for a moment, all you can manage is a small nod.  

You really should have known.

“Okay,” you say eventually, nodding again, “who goes first?”

“Me,” Belphie says, smiling again while he leans forward. He braces one elbow on his legs, props his chin up on his hand, and doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. “Truth or dare?”

“Um,” you hesitate, glancing between the two of them—Beel, relaxed back against the foot of the bed, one knee bent up towards his chest, watching you intently; Belphie, drumming his fingers against his cheek, waiting. “Truth.”

“Boooooring,” Belphie drawls, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let me think…”

He trails off, makes a big show of thinking; he narrows his eyes, sucks his teeth, tilts his head one way, then the other, before his eyes flick over to his twin, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second before they return to you.

His smile turns predatory. “Have you ever touched yourself at school?” 

“W-What?” you splutter. Heat floods your chest, your cheeks, the back of your neck. “No—I-I… No.”

The twins are quiet for a long moment—a moment they spend gauging your reaction, the set of your shoulders, the way you’ve curled in on yourself, just a little; it’s a moment you feel in your chest, in each frenzied thud of your heart, each fluttering wing beat trapped in the pit of your stomach.

You glance between them, open your mouth to say something, to try and fill the silence with something other than the sound of blood rushing behind your ears, but Belphie speaks up first.

“Beel’s turn~” he says, voice lilting with twisted glee.

You turn your head towards the older twin, and for the first time, you notice he’s blushing too, a soft pink that colors his cheeks, the bridge of his nose.

“Truth or dare?” he asks you, voice low and thrumming.

“Me again?” you look to Belphie, who merely shrugs, then back to Beel.

He nods.

You really should have known.

“U-uh… Dare?”

As soon as the word tumbles out of your mouth, you regret it. Wish you could snatch it out of the air; wish you could shove it back down your throat, down to join the butterflies roiling in your stomach.

But you can’t, and Belphie’s grin grows impossibly wider.

“Sit on his lap,” he says, urges, basking in the heat of your embarrassment, your discomfort.

You shift onto your knees, start to stand, to walk over to Beel and just get it over with—it’s only a game, after all—but Belphie grabs your wrist. He yanks you down, makes you fall, knees impacting on the soft carpet.

“Crawl,” he says, watching you with half-lidded eyes.

You stare up at him, eyes wide. “I… Th-that wasn’t part of the dare.”

“It is now,” he says, then lets go of your wrist and shrugs. “Drink, if you don’t want to do it.”

You eye the bottle of demonus. Mutter a short ‘fine’ under your breath and swallow down what’s left of your pride—a bitter taste the coats the back of your tongue, that has an insidious heat tingling between your legs—and crawl to Beel.

You can’t bear to look at him, at either of them. But you can feel them looking at you.

“C-Can I…?”

Thankfully, he doesn’t make you finish the sentence, lowering his leg so that you can climb onto his lap, so that you can face him and straddle his hips. You bite down on your lip, unsure of what to do with your arms, so you hold them close to your chest, back straight, shoulders tense, trying not to take too much notice of how wide your legs are spread around him.

“Good girl,” Belphie hums from behind you, much closer than he was—so close you jump. He smooths his hands down your arms, palms hot against your bare skin, wrapping his fingers around your wrists, guiding them up and around his brother’s neck. “Your turn.”

You drag your gaze away from Belphie’s hands, away from the slender fingers that rest against your pulse, to lock with eyes with Beel. Find that you can’t do anything but stare into his intensely violet eyes—eyes that threaten to swallow you whole, if you let them.

“Beel,” you say. “Truth or dare?”

Belphie squeezes at your sides, toying with the edge of your shirt at the same moment Beel’s hands find your hips, at the same moment they start to knead into your flesh and draw you closer.

“Truth,” he says.

It’s hard to think—with them like this, so close like this. With their hands all over you.

“Did… Did Belphie make you play this game?”

“No,” he says, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I wanted to play with you too.”

The way he says it, voice low and gravely and hungry. The fact that you’re straddling him, that Belphie’s arms have wound themselves around your waist. Those words. It all has you clenching around nothing.

“My turn,” Belphie murmurs, chest flush with your back. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathes in the scent of your hair, your skin. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you say, but your voice wavers, warbles when he sighs against your neck.

“Ah, ah,” he murmurs. “Beel just did truth. Can’t do that twice in a row.”

You don’t remember that being part of the rules, but you can find it in yourself to argue.

“D-Dare, then,” you stammer.

When he kisses your throat, you feel him smirking. “Let me blindfold you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, sticks there like a rock. Your pulse hammers in your chest—so hard, you know they must hear it, that they must feel it. You can’t get anything out past the cotton candy fog in your head and the ringing in your ears, so you nod.

Belphie shifts behind you, and then he draws a piece of fabric over your eyes, forcing them shut. He’s gentle when he ties it, has Beel hold your hair so it doesn’t pull when he cinches it tight against your skull.

You feel yourself swaying, steady yourself on Beel’s shoulders.

“Truth or dare?” Beel asks, and you know he’s talking to you.

“Truth.”

From behind you, “how often do you touch yourself?”

You stiffen, fingers twitching at Beel’s shoulders, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, fumbling for something, for anything.

“I… I don’t want to answer that.”

“Fine,” Belphie murmurs, breath hot against your ear. He releases your waist, and then you feel the cold press of the bottle against your lips. “Open.”

He presses his fingertips up underneath your chin, tilting your head backwards until it rests against his shoulder. Then he pours—too much, too fast—into your open mouth. You struggle to keep up, to gulp down the demonus that stings in the back of your throat, tasting like berries and spice and heat.

He pulls the bottle away—finally—and you cough and splutter, feel demonus dripping down your chin, rolling down your neck in amaranthine rivulets. The buzz sets in fast—far faster than you expect. Flowing through your veins, settling into your muscles, filling your thoughts with a distracting static.

“Who do you think about when you do it?” his voice is like silk, ghosting across the shell of your ear, low and lilting while Beel laps at the demonus trailing down your throat, sucking at your pulse point, tracing the hollow of your throat with his tongue, making you whimper.

“That… That’s two questions, Belphie,” you whine.

You. Both of you—just like this.

“Answer,” he says, hands skimming up and down your sides, “or drink.”

“I-I don’t—” you stammer, shifting your hips, squirming in Beel’s grip. The hands. The tongue. The heat. It’s too much. “I don’t want to answer that either.”

The bottle is back. “Then drink.”

You do. Or, try to. You swallow deep, tears welling up in your eyes, spilling over in time with the burning in your throat, in between your thighs. You gulp, drink and drink until Belphie is satisfied and Beel is left to clean up the mess you’ve made of yourself. When he takes the bottle away, you’re reeling, gasping.

“Truth or dare?” Beel asks, murmurs against your neck.  

“Dare,” you choke out, suddenly very aware of the hardness pressing into you from underneath, from behind.

“Kiss him,” Belphie says, fingers twisted in your hair now. You feel hands on your face—Beel’s—thumb brushing across your cheekbone, over the plush of your bottom lip.

“Okay,” you whisper, and then his mouth is on yours. Greedy. Demanding. Hungry. His tongue dives into your mouth, licking and tasting, sucking the demonus from your tongue. He traces the shape of your teeth, groaning into you, intertwining his tongue with yours. Swallows down every gasp, every little whimper.

You’re drowning. In the way he rocks his hips into yours, the way he grinds his length against you—the way he tastes you, the way he devours. You’re lost. To the feel of Belphie’s hands under your shirt, palming your breast, teasing your nipples, nipping at the skin of your shoulders, sucking dark bruises along the column of your throat.  

“Truth or dare?” Belphie asks as Beel pulls back and breaks the kiss, letting you breathe again.

“T-Truth,” you gasp, chest heaving up and down, arching into Belphie’s touch.

“Do you like what we’re doing to you?” he asks, twisting one nipple between his forefinger and thumb, grinning when you yelp. “Do you like it when we touch you like this? When we share you like this?”

You nod, nearly frantic, struggling to hold back the pathetic noises that fall from your open mouth.

“Say it,” Beel urges, “need to hear you say it.”

Oh, you really should have known.

“I like it,” you breathe.

Beel growls, a strangled sound low in his throat, grabbing tighter onto your hips, grinding your needy little cunt against his clothed cock. You suck in a gasp. Rock your hips against him. Dig your fingernails into his shoulders. Whine at the feeling of him—so thick, so hard—underneath you.

“Truth or dare?” Even Belphie sounds affected now. Breathy. Voice thick and heady.

Needy.

“Dare,” you whisper, voice breaking half-way through the word, head falling back against Belphie’s shoulder.

“Let us fuck you.”

Your whimper is all the answer they need.

You’re being lifted before you realize it, carried over and laid flat on your back on the edge of Belphie’s mattress. They peel of your clothing, drag your shirt up and over your head, fingertips lingering on your ribs, your thighs as they pull down your shorts, your panties, half-soaked through because—fuck, you’re wet, Beel groans.

Big hands—Beel’s hands—press your legs further apart, keep you open while he squeezes at the plush of your thighs. You feel breath, hot against your core, and then he’s licking you, laving his tongue over and around your swollen nub, lapping at slick that coats your folds, holding your hips in place while you twitch and writhe.

“Open,” Belphie grunts, smearing the head of his cock against your lips.

Your body reacts before your mind can, steeped in a fevered haze, mouth popping open, tongue dipping into the salty pre-cum that beads at the tip. He groans when he sinks into the wet heat of your mouth—an absolutely obscene sound that has chills rippling down your spine, heat tingling between your legs.

When you push back against his hips, when you shy away from the length prodding at the back of your throat, he grabs both your wrists and pins them to the mattress, binding them together with his belt.

“Keep them there,” he growls, bucking into your mouth, making you gag and choke, clench around the fingers that Beel slides inside you. He pumps in one, then two, scissoring them, stretching you open while he suck as your clit.

Belphie’s hand wraps around your throat, holding you down while he fucks your mouth, while he praises you for being such a good cock sucking whore. Pressure builds in your gut, spiraling tighter, brighter, and when Belphie drives his cock all the way in, when he gags you with it and holds you there, rutting into your face—panting and cursing and moaning your name—you cum on Beel’s fingers, his tongue.

Belphie pulls out of your mouth, lets you splutter and gasp for air, just barely conscious of the fact you’re being pulled upright, that Beel loops your tied arms around his neck and maneuvers you on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Need you,” he pants, tearing the blindfold off, guides your hips down and nudges at your entrance. “Need you so bad.”

He pushes in, just past the ring of muscle that struggles to accept him.

It burns—punches the air out of your lungs because he’s big.

“B-Beel,” you gasp, tightening involuntarily because it hurts. “S’too much—s’too much—”

He grunts, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His grip is unrelenting, pulling you down slowly, feeding inch after inch into your hole, forcing your legs wider around his hips, stretching your pussy open around his cock.

He’s only halfway in when you feel Belphie prodding at your puckered hole.

“Wai—” you choke on your next breath, eyes rolling into the back of your head when Beel bucks his hips up into yours, as Belphie pushes harder against your ass. “Wait, wait—” you babble, beg, squirming, struggling against the belt, the grip on your hips. “—slow, I can’t, I can’t—s-sto—”  

Belphie clamps his hand over your mouth.

“Relax,” he hisses into your ear, and a sudden, overpowering wave of lethargy washes over you. His voice lulls you, coils around your mind and drags it down into a heavy fog. His voice soothes you, makes your eyelids heavy, makes your muscles unclench—lets Beel bottom out, fully sheathed in your fluttering pussy, lets Belphie pop the tip of his cock inside your ass and slide further inside.

You drift in and out of consciousness. Head lolling back against Belphie’s shoulder, arms hanging limp around Beel’s neck. In and out of pleasure. Pain. Stretch and fill. You hardly recognize your own voice, the weak, strangled noises barely audible past Belphie’s hand.

They use you. One fucking in while the other pulls out. Holding you captive between them.

“See?” Belphie grunts, abandoning his hold on your mouth to grip your throat. To squeeze while he ruts into you. “Isn’t it so much better when you just give in?”

“So tight,” Beel groans, right in your ear.

“What a fucking slut,” Belphie hisses in your other ear.

Gorgeous—and so goddamn noisy, they whisper. So perfect—making such a mess for us. Fucking harder. Faster. You’re melting, weeping, fucked out of your mind. Feel so good—our filthy little cocksleeve. In time now. Fucking you open. So full, so fucking full.  So good for us—our needy little fuck toy.

When you cum again, you can’t even warn them, just a choked whine, just a fluttering of your walls, a clenching that has them both spilling inside of you a moment later, Beel crushing his mouth to yours, Belphie sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

Your eyes slip closed… then open.

You’re on your side, back to Beel’s chest, head tucked into Belphie’s neck, breathing heavy and achingly empty. They stroke your hair, trail their fingers across your flushed and sweaty skin.

Closed… Open.

Belphie kisses you. Parts your lips with his tongue. Moans into your mouth. Beel grinds against your ass, still hard, sliding through his brother’s release that leaks out of you.

Close… Open.

You whimper. Push weakly against Belphie’s chest, cry when Beel’s fingers find your clit, when searing pain-streaked pleasure burns through you.

“Shh,” Belphie soothes, hiking your leg up around his waist, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your soaking folds. “Just relax… we’ll take good care of you.”

The lethargy hits again, dragging you deeper.

Close… Open.

They’re inside you again. Rolling their hips into yours soft and slow… It feels good. Mind-numbingly good. The way Beel holds you tight against him. It feels good. The way Belphie’s tongue dances with yours. The way it’s sloppy and languid and soft. It feels so fucking good—

Close… Open.

You’re cumming again. And again. Over and over again as they bully open your insides, molding them to the shape of their cocks—you lose count. Lose your fucking mind while your eyes roll back. While tears stream down your cheeks.

They fill you. Your mouth, your ass, your pussy—with fingers and tongues and cocks and cum. They mark you. Paint your skin with hickies and bruises in the shape of their teeth.

Close… Open.

Belphie kisses you again, licking along your bottom lip. “… Truth or dare?”

Thanks for reading!! Consider giving it a ❤️ and a 🔁 if you enjoyed.

You can check out my other writing here.

#PLAYING ~ ❝ MIND GAMES ❞ #belphegor x reader #belphegor x you #belphie x reader #belphie x you #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x you #beel x reader #beel x you #my writing #shall we date belphegor #shall we date belphie #belphegor #belphie #shall we date beelzebubb #shall we date beel #beelzebub #beel #shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me smut #smut #fanfiction #writing #writeblr #cross posted on ao3

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[🐯] feed you my love

✿ pairing: beomgyu x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff / 3,141 words / reader calls beomgyu ‘beomie’ / reader is already established to join the members occasionally (aka txt adopted the reader lol) / beomgyu being shameless with pda / mentions of food and eating / usage of curse words in a friendly banter ✿ in which one of beomgyu’s cutest habits is feeding you whatever he has (and the boys try to get in on it, only to get ignored) ✿ honestly, i saw this tiktok at the part where beomgyu tries to feed yeonjun the cotton candy and my mind spiralled because it just feels like a love language to me so... enjoy! [masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​ 🥤

beomgyu has absolutely no shame in eating whatever he wants to eat. he takes care of his figure (to his best ability) and there are times where your mind gets confused with either how small he looks or how big he actually is. you hadn’t quite noticed it before but the longer you were with him, the more he seems to... want to feed you whatever he has in his hands. doesn’t matter, absolutely could not give zero shit on what he’s holding. french fries? he’s already holding one to your lips. chips? say no more. a cookie? he takes a bite and makes sure you take one too. his burger? already considering you to have a second bite right after him.

it might sound odd but one of beomgyu’s love languages was feeding you... and of course, the boys teases him at every chance they can get when it happens in front of them. (they lowkey think it’s the most adorable thing ever, considering how chaotic beomgyu can get but is so delicate when he’s with you)

don’t get it twisted, though. while it is a sweet gesture, there are moments and instances where he’s... creative with his advancements. there’s too many to the point you can’t keep track of which is your favorite (or most memorable).

maybe it’s that one time when he’s made an omelet without burning the kitchen and he instantly looks at you to give it a taste. it’s morning and it was one of the many times you’ve spent the night and by some force of nature, had woken up with beomgyu to make breakfast for everyone. kai was around, making sandwiches with taehyun, while you and beomgyu were in charge of frying up eggs, sausages and ham.

just as beomgyu manages to whip up a batch of omelet, he takes a bite for himself and is very, very satisfied with himself. he quickly scoops a piece on a spoon and hovers it by your cheek, using his hip to nudge at you as you’re panning the sausages.

“gyu, i’m busy, i’ll–”you can’t finish your words when beomgyu gently pushes the spoon into your mouth to make you eat the omelet. you almost kick the life out of him but when you taste what he’s made, honestly, not bad. for a second you were doubtful because you’ve... you’ve seen how he tries to cook with or without the cameras and let’s just say, all of them, all of them (maybe excluding yeonjun) have a long way to go. humble beginnings.

“not bad, right?” his eyes are sparkling at you that you can’t resist leaning over, pecking his cheek, “tastes great!”

he looks at you in a daze, as if you’ve put him in a trance until–”yah! quickly take it off the fire! it’s gonna burn!” taehyun yells from the other side of the kitchen, making beomgyu panic as he screams and hurriedly moves his pan away from the heat. you chuckle at the whole debacle, focused on the sausages you were handling, noticing how kai’s full on laughing when beomgyu’s–”arghhh! it’s okay, it’s okay! they’re still fine!”

“that’s what you get for flirting.”

“alright, bring that ass here,” beomgyu fetches the spatula, maneuvering himself around you to–”come here, huening!”

or that time when you tagged along to join the boys to make dalgona candy, and he’s very proud with the way his heart shaped one turned out. almost instantly, he holds it up to your lips, waiting for you to take the first bite. you spare him a glance, in the midst of pouring yours onto the metal plate that you wave him off, “n-not now, beomie...”

beomgyu makes a sound crossed between a whine and a yell, which seemingly sounds aggressive and adorable at the same time. at the sound, the boys glance over to see how beomgyu’s persistent to get you to try his candy. a soft round of laughters erupt when you gently nudge him away, focusing on making sure–”i wanna make mine look pretty first...”

he opens his mouth, and with a deep intake of air, you can already predict the way he’s about to yell at the top his lungs in distaste, wanting nothing more than for you to try his creation. the rest of the mentally prepare (taehyun and soobin’s already closing their ears) for the onslaught, but yeonjun’s attempting to pacify him with: "i’ll try it,” yeonjun leans over, bumping shoulders with beomgyu as he opens his mouth, “ah.” yeonjun widens his eyes, using a hand to point at his opened mouth willing to accept the candy.

yeonjun gives up in less than ten seconds when beomgyu only turn to look at him with a disinterested look; flat brows, narrowed eyes, not even a smile on the face. the older one clears his throat with a fine, not invited to the party, don’t need to tell me twice, you little shit and looks away to continue making his own candy.

when yeonjun’s out of his hair, beomgyu turns to you again, holding the candy to your lips with a frown. you finally spare him the attention when you’re done with creating your candy, allowing it to harden in the meantime. you turn the cheek to see that his brows are tightly knitted together, wrinkles on his forehead based on how hard he’s frowning that it looks permanent. 

“augh, okay, okay,” you relent, opening your mouth to take a bite and the sweetness kisses your tongue as it melts. it makes you smile, and you use a thumb to pick at the crumb at the side of your lip, and you kiss your thumb to get the crumb off. then you press that thumb to beomgyu’s cheek, “yummy! and sweet. good job, beomie!”

when you turn back to check how your candy turned out, beomgyu’s already back to his usual self. he breaks a piece and hovers it by yeonjun’s mouth, to which the latter rolls his eyes at... until beomgyu scoffs and uses his knee to nudge yeonjun’s thigh that he gives in and takes a bite, making beomgyu all smiles again.

maybe the time when he opened a packet of sweets during movie night, and you hadn’t realised he held one up for you to eat as you were engrossed in the movie. he had his head laying on your lap, cheek pressed to your thigh as his eyes gaze up to the television. one of your hands were stroking his head, playing with the strands of his hair, while the other rests on his neck, feeling the gentle taps of his pulse against your finger tips. movie night had been one of the things the boys got around to do once in a while and it was horror night, the best kind.

yeonjun’s clutching onto soobin like a lifeline, who’s holding on to taehyun holding onto kai. the bunch sat on the sofa as you and beomgyu sat on the floor in front of them, unfazed just like kai was. there were screams and shouts, a commotion when the ghost pops out onto frame, scaring the main character and it’s havoc with the way kai’s laughing louder than their mixed screams.

in the midst of this, beomgyu’s holding his arm up to your lips and makes a whine. for a split second, the boys think he’s afraid, but they glance down to see that he’s just trying to feed you a piece of skittles.

“i thought we were watching a horror movie, not a romance movie.” soobin comments, using his knee to nudge beomgyu’s arm conveniently in front of him. taehyun snorts, finding the diversion to be working as he focuses on you two than the movie. you glance over your shoulder to match the sound of the voice, only to now notice beomgyu’s hand placement.

you look down to him as he lowers his hand a little, pouting when you don’t accept his candy offering.

“don’t really feel like eating candy, beomie.”

“i’ll eat it.” soobin offers, already leaning down to swoop the candy from beomgyu’s hand but the latter dodges soobin’s advances. “augh, so mean.” soobin huffs, resorting to leaning back into the sofa as he looks at the movie, but somehow finds himself drawn to see how beomgyu acts to get you to give in (even though they all have seen this probably a million times, it never seems to faze them).

“just one piece. just one,” beomgyu coaxes you, hand persistently rising up to your lips. all you have to do is open your mouth. your lips are tightly shut as you look down on him again, lightly tapping his forehead but he doesn’t budge. instead, he feigns a strain on his arm and–”ah... it hurts holding my hand up for so long...”

you let out a soft tsk before opening your mouth, allowing him to pop the candy into your mouth with a smug grin. then, he gladly feeds himself a piece, before taking out another and holding it up higher over the sofa for soobin to enjoy some of the candy as well.

you remember fondly how he tried to make you try some of his ramen, when the two of you went on a short but heart-fulfilling convenience store date. it was late, but beomgyu showed up at your door with a hand extended out to you to go on a date with me? and you couldn’t possibly say no when you’ve missed him just as much.

that’s how you two ended up at a convenient store nearby, clad in hoodies, tired smiles but giddily holding hands as you made your way there. he decided to make his “signature” cup ramen, adding other ingredients to it while you opted for something simple... by that, you mean just grabbing a cup noodle and adding water, done.

after a couple of minutes, you to curdle by the last two seats on the bar in the corner, facing the window. there’s barely anyone outside, a couple of passersby, mostly those closing up their food truck business for the night. in the silence, you two are mixing up your noodles and just as you twist some noodles with your chopsticks, you turn to see that beomgyu has done the same, already ready to feed you when you were about to feed yourself.

“ah... what about me?” he half-whines, pouting when he sees that you weren’t going to offer him a bite. 

“i gotta cross-check, make sure it’s not poisoned, you know?” 

“but–i... augh, you’re so mean to me.” he huffs, lowering his chopsticks back into his cup. he has a small frown, muttering to himself–how cute–but you know there’s no malice in his tone. you snicker, holding up your chopstick to him, “open up, pretty boy.”

he perks a brow, not turning his head but his eyes are on you, “really?”

“one... two–”you can’t get to three because he quickly leans over and slurps the noodles from your offering hand, smiling happily and chewing on the noodles. he doesn’t know why or how, but when you feed him something, it always, always tastes better.

“ugh, so good.” he groans, nodding in agreement with himself. you chuckle, shaking your head, “i didn’t even add anything. it’s just the noodles as it is.”

“it’s because you fed me,” he swallows his mouthful, “can’t you feed me vegetables? maybe it’ll taste nicer.”

you scoff a laugh, using your chopsticks to grab yourself a mouthful, “or maybe you can learn how to cook it properly than eating it without any seasoning.”

you’re about to eat your own serving but the clearing of his throat is what gets you to stop. when you glance at him, his brows are furrowed as he holds up his chopsticks to your direction, twisted with noodles, glued with cheese and a chunk of kimchi. 

“i haven’t eaten mine yet,”

he doesn’t even respond, only blinking at you and using his eyes to point at his chopsticks for your taking. you let out a sigh and shift closer, opening your mouth and he gently makes sure the chopsticks go in without the noodles smudging your lips. it’s not as great as he thought when you end up with red sauce by the corner of your lips, but with the way you light up in enjoyment makes him so giddy, it’s like he’s gotten off a rollercoaster seeing you smile like that; doing a small sway back and forth as you chew on your food quietly, happily–together.

the two of you begin to dig into your own portions, but every now and then steal mouthfuls from each other’s cup. in the midst of eating and chatting, beomgyu freezes when you tell him hold on, and you grab onto a napkin to reach over to his cheek. you brush the corner of his lips with an amused smile. he swears to you he isn’t blushing, it’s just the spice from his ramen that you relent with a sure, okay... even though he knows you don’t believe him by a long shot (not that you have to, you were totally right, he’s whipped for you).

a tough contender would be when he’s doing a live-broadcast in one of the rooms, but he still tries to sneakily feed you some food that’s out of frame from the camera. you hadn’t realised he was on a live until after you’ve entered the room and you narrow your eyes at him talking to the phone on the tripod. you try to leave quietly but he speaks up about it, playing off that you’re one of his friends who came in. you make faces at him, mouthing the words of i’ll come back later! but he refuses to let you leave as he somehow manages to make you stay by his side, inches away from being in frame.

he’s eating a couple of desserts and he sneakily tears the wrapper while he talks about their upcoming concert. he’s able to multitask, reading the comments coming in and slyly reach to the side for you to take a bite without tearing his gaze from the phone. it’s a red bean bun, easy to share, but your hand tries to gently push it away to avoid any suspicion. however, the longer you do that, the longer he doesn’t pull his hands back so you quickly lean forward to take a bite.

he starts to smile even if it’s not at you directly and you hit his knee under the table. chuckling, he takes a bite while responding to one of the comments that says you’re handsome! “ah, thank you! i always know moa will appreciate my good looks. feel like some people around me need to appreciate that.”

he tries not to make a sound when you kick him again.

maybe... maybe it was right now in the present as you two sit side by side, along with the rest of the boys circling the coffee table in their dorm, enjoying a meal peacefully. the kind of peaceful that consisted of soft murmurs of chatter and occasional pitches of excitement on the new shows about to come out, movies ya’ll planned to watch together, new television series that everyone pitched for turns on whose suggestion to take up next. 

in the midst of talking and listening, beomgyu scoops a spoonful of his kimchi fried rice, making sure to get a piece of egg and he turns to his side to watch as you slowly chew your food while agreeing with taehyun that yes, we have to watch wednesday next! as your mouth opens to start arguing with soobin who wants to watch gudetama, the nudge from beomgyu against your thigh halts you momentarily.

turning to him with slightly gaped lips, he motions for his spoon towards your mouth and beomgyu lives to see the reaction. how your eyes are initially sparking with fiery to attack, that dissolves into adoration when you lock gazes with him. how willing your mouth opens, giddily shifting forward to make sure he doesn’t spill not a single grain of rice, almost as if he can hear your well-known food is food! nothing should go to waste.

soobin can’t even be mad at the sight when he’s aware you were about to one-up him in the conversation, now witnessing how excited beomgyu gets whenever he gets to feed you. 

“is it tasty?” beomgyu asks, softly, even though everyone can hear him.

with your mouth full, you can’t respond with words so you nod with a garbled up hum of mhm! and put a thumbs up. beomgyu shakes his head with a augh, so fucking cute, using his freehand to ruffle your hair and continue eating. yeonjun swallows his ramen, nudging soobin by the elbow when he knows the latter was watching as well, “because of that, i’m on your side to watch gudetama.”

you ignore the conversation, proceeding to twist some of your pasta so you can return beomgyu the favour. it’s like he’s anticipating it, beckoning for you to i want some of the chicken, too. although you retort with look at you, taking advantage of my kindness, beomgyu grins when you’re cutting the best part; charred and drenched in the sauce to poke it with your twisted pasta. you carefully turn to beomgyu who leans forward, opening wide to make sure nothing spills.

then, it’s a brief moment of the two of you smiling at each other, chewing and enjoying the food in bliss as if none of the guys are there. even though the guys constantly tease or pretend to vomit, they secretly approve of it with knowing gazes.

the moment is short-lived when kai bumps shoulders with you, reminding you that the show wednesday is superior and–”ah, right,” you swallow your food and now look to soobin with narrowed eyes, “back to you and your egg show, we’re watching wednesday. my vote’s with kai,”

“hell yeah!” kai high-fives you, to which soobin groans, “you guys suck! gudetama is a better bet! it’s so cute!”

“i agree with soobs!” yeonjun pitches, and kai whines, “ugh, old people and their tendencies.” 

“the fuck did you say?!”

“oh, here we go again.” taehyun groans, throwing his head back as the onslaught begins.

beomgyu now watches as you and kai debate with soobin and yeonjun on what to watch next. taehyun is a silent spectator shaking his head at both parties. what beomgyu truly enjoys from this is how you don’t miss the way he wants to continuously feed you and how you take pauses to feed him in return. it’s almost as if it’s second nature for you to reciprocate his love language and that... that made his heart full; and it wasn’t because of the food.

#kflixnet #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x you #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #txt scenario

[creative-caramel-coffee]

CH 3 Ophidiophobia: Fear of snakes

Pairings: Wandanat x reader

Word count: 2.0K

Summary: Loki arrives as a snake, and you panic and try to stab him with a butter knife.

TW: Knife? Snakes. Panic (not attack just the regular kind). Mild description of shock and adrenaline.

A/n Ok so I’m not afraid of snakes but I have been in shock before, plus I’m a little bit of an adrenaline junkie (kinda) so I know what it's like. Hope you guys like this chapter. It’s been a while since I posted for the series. Sorry to everyone who’s been waiting I plan to be posting more soon (key word planning). I rather like how this turned out. Enjoy my traumatised little beans :) … also I’m Australian so i call it jam. Deal with it.

Nat had just gotten back from a mission; it wasn’t too bad, but it did mean that you and Wanda had been doing everything in your power to make her comfortable. You were in the kitchen making Nat her favourite to eat. PB and J sandwiches. You were lathering on the ingredients with great generosity, just the way Natasha liked it. Lots of jam and lots of peanut butter. You were humming the tune to a song by Rihanna you had been listening to lately and dancing around the kitchen. The rest of the team were around somewhere but nobody else was in the kitchen. Just you.

Screwing the lid back on the two jars you placed down the butter knife next to the three plates of sandwiches. One for each of you. Wanda was setting up the bedroom so you guys could have a movie day and you were also planning to grab a bunch of snacks from the cupboard for later, so you didn’t have to come back to the kitchen.

Opening the frigid you deposited the jars and went and found a tray to put all the stuff on. At this point you had moved from humming the song to singing it. You weren’t a bad singer, quite the opposite in fact. You had a lovely voice and as you grabbed the tray you were wiggling your hips to the beat. Something both of your girlfriends found cute and endearing, something they had told you many times in similar situations.

You turned around and set the tray down on the bench. Using the knife to cut the sandwiches the way your girls liked them. Nat liked hers in half diagonally. Wanda liked hers in four little triangles with the crusts cut off, much like a child which is something both you and Natasha teased her for. And you liked them the way you always did, the same as Natasha but without crusts like Wanda, you were the prefect mix of the both of them. The mediator in squabbles and the middle of all cuddles. You were the one that was probably babied the most but it felt nice to be loved in such a tender and compassionate way.

You had just finished the last of the delicate slicing when you glanced around, seeing nobody but your own reflection in the fridge door you smiled to yourself and licked the jam off the knife. Your mother would have had a conniption, you lost count of how many times you were scolded for licking knives as a child. Even if you were always careful to avoid the blade, you were young, not stupid. Except for that one time you cut your tongue on a tape measure but thats a story you would take with you to the grave, scar and all.

Drawing the knife away from your lips and licking the stick residue from the corners of your mouth you walked over to the sink and began to rinse the knife to put it in the high-powered dishwasher Tony had made … adjustments too. Somehow seeing the genius doing domestic tasks was always somewhat of a point of amusement for you and seemingly also the team. But all it had taken was an ask from pepper to “spruce up life around the tower” and the man had been following her like a puppy as she pointed out things for him to “improve.” You laughed at the memory, ever since Pepper had given the world Morgan, Tony was practically bending over backwards to do anything she asked of him and more. Poor guy. So very in love.

You had just gone to turn around to put the knife in what was basically a nuclear-powered dish-cleaning-germ-destroying machine, when you heard the unmistakeable hiss of your worst fear. You froze. Hearing the animal slither along the tiles. Gripping the knife harder in your hand you slowly turned on your heel to face it. The colour drained out of your face. Your hands shook slightly around the knife, and it took all your energy to swallow as your mouth suddenly felt very dry. Your heartbeat in your ears and you didn’t spare a thought as to how the huge beast of a snake managed to get into the tower.

Yellow eyes blinked back as you stared into the face of an emerald-green python. Its small fangs glinted with the reflection of the fluorescent lights of the kitchen ceiling. It hissed, its pink tongue darting in and out of its curved mouth. It stopped a meter away from you seemingly sizing you up. With what almost looked like a smile it opened its mouth giving you a front row seat to a perfect line of teeth that were razor sharp and you had no plans to prove that. It began to coil itself in and you were worried it was about to spring at you. Snakes did that right?

Holding the knife tighter you made a decision. In a fast movement you hurled the knife at the snake's head. You had seemed to catch it off guard as it watched the blade sail towards its face, arching nicely in the air. You had impeccable aim as always. But at the last possible minute it dodged, and the knife clattered to the floor behind it.

“Shit.” You swore. Now you had no weapon and no way out. The snake had you cornered against the bench. In other words, you were between a rock and a hard place, aka somewhere you didn’t want to be. With nothing to hold in your shaky hands you began to curl your fingers into fists and then relax them before repeating the movement. You were still terrified, if not even more so now you had nothing to defend yourself with.

At that movement the snake launched itself at you and you shut your eyes. However instead of the feeling of its fangs piercing your arms which had come up to cover your head, there was a bright flash of green which you saw even behind your closed eyes. Tentatively you peaked open a hesitant eye to look around. You heard laughing and your felt yourself trembling like a hairless cat in winter.

When all you saw was Loki you were ready to kill the frost giant. Before you could make any move, still running off adrenaline Wanda walked into the kitchen.

She paused at the sight. You were still curled in on yourself protecting your head while lock was bent at the waist, an arm on the counter to stabilise himself as he laughed.

“Whats going on in here?” Wanda asked her head tilting dangerously.

“You should have seen her face.” Loki said wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Wanda said taking in your fragile and scared state. She crossed the kitchen while Loki composed himself and you threw your body into her arms. With a small oomph noise, she caught you, wrapping her arms around your shaking torso and adding some delicious pressure to the hug you ground you and hopefully stave off any nastier symptoms of shock.

Loki had stopped laughing now and seemed almost concerned at your reaction. Wanda rubbed circles on your back as you shook evenly with small sobs which broke up the trembling. Over your shoulder Wanda glared at like with enough heat to melt a glacier. She mouthed to him ‘Talk. Now.’ With a glare shaper than his favourite dagger. Seeing no way out of this Loki stammered his explanation.

“Thor had told me of this mid-guardians fear of snakes…”

“You didnt.” Wanda growled protectively, and Loki swallowed trying to hide his fear of the witch, he was a god after all he shouldn’t be scared of mortals. But a protective Wanda was a dangerous creature after all.

“I did not realise it was so severe. My apologies Wanda.” He said.

“We will talk about this later and you will give Y/n a real apology.” She commanded. “Now leave, before a make you.” She said and Loki nodded and left in a flash of green that bounced off the walls of the kitchen.

Wanda drew a shaky breath to dispel her anger towards the god of mischief. Sure, it was in his nature to play pranks, but Wanda was fiercely protective over her girlfriends. She pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sob into her collar.

“Sh sh shhh its ok sweet girl. Im here. Im here baby. It's alright. He’s gone my love. There’s nothing that can hurt you now.” She said and held you close. You let out a small whimper and Wanda gently picked you up. You clung to her like a koala. Your legs wrapped around her waist and her hands under your thighs to hold you up. Your arms where wrapped around her neck and your cheek pressed into her covered chest. You sniffled softly as the tears still fell.

“Let’s go watch a movie with natty my baby girl.” Wanda said and she walked out using her magic to bring the snacks and sandwiches you had prepared earlier.

You nodded still not saying anything, emotionally drained. Worn out from the stress, shock and pure fear you felt. You hate snakes. They were a phobia of yours since you were a child. Wanda whispered soothing words in your hair and rubbed her nose on your cheek making you let out a water giggle.

“There’s my sweet little girl.” Wanda said and you blushed and buried your face in her neck making the woman coo at how cute you were. Walking back into the bedroom Wanda mentally informed nat of what had happened not wanting to bring it up again after you had begun to calm down. Nat gave a look saying she would fight Loki later and Wanda shook her head with a smile. She gently set you down in Nat’s open and waiting arms and you clung to her like you had to Wanda. Wanda passed Nat a sandwich and she grinned. Knowing you just wanted cuddles and could eat later. Wanda came and sat beside nat and placed a hand on your lower back ti rub soothing circles.

“You did it just the way i like Detka.” Nat said and you nodded softly into her chest. You were laid on top of her. Your legs either-side of her thighs as you wrapped your arms around her back. Your front flush to hers and face buried in her chest. Wanda chuckled softly at the position. It was one of your favoured ones. You turned your face to the side and your cheek smushed against Nat’s chest. You glared at her and poked your tongue out before burning your face again. Wanda only chuckled harder and nat paused her eat to rub your back.

“Are you being mean to wanda baby?” Nat said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

A small huffed out “no.” Was heard from the fabric of her shirt and Nat stifled a smile at your antics. They could hear the pout in your voice.

“Really now?” Nat said sounding amused. “Cuz, you know what happens with you are.” She said and you shuddered.

“No.” you said again and nat and wanda shared a demonic grin before they began to tickle you. You squealed and began laughing.

“S-stop. S-tooopp” you whined and after a bit both redheads relented.

“It's not fair your both not ticklish.” You huffed and Wanda and Nat laughed.

“Come here baby.” Wanda said and opened her arms.

“No. Comfy.” You pouted and wanda matched the expression.

“Then I’ll come to you.” Wanda moved closer and curled into Nat’s side throwing an arm over you. She had selected a romcom to watch and the three of your settled in for the movie. Wanda passed you the sandwich and you dropped crumbs on Nat’s shirt much to her amusement. After an afternoon of tlc and some much-needed cuddles. You were feeling much better. Loved. And all thoughts of snakes gone from the crevices of your mind.

MASTERLIST

#Ophidiophobia #fear of snakes #snake phobia #phobia #afraid #panic #snake #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #Loki #marvel #sicfic #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanov #wanda marvel #natasha romaoff #wandanat comfort #wandanat x reader #emotional hurt / comfort #hurt/comfort #tlc #comfort #scared r #scared reader #soft wanda #soft Natasha #reader is ticklish

[reedrfeedr]

story - pavlov

(Giving into indulgence has lasting consequences. weight gain, food play, second person.)

You should have known you were fucked the first time it happened.

It was so innocuous, you almost didn’t notice it - staring at another spreadsheet at work, rubbing your eyes to keep from passing out, the morning coffee wearing off too early to carry you to lunch…lunch. There’s that new wing place across the street…you glance at the menu flyer they left in the lobby. You haven’t had any in a while, but still you could almost taste the way the vinegar bite of the hot sauce cuts through the savory fat of the fried skin, the addictive mix of crispy on the edges, tender on the interior, greasy fat giving way to juicy meat…maybe if you ate quick enough you could get a bit more than a dozen, maybe some fries too…and you felt a tent in your tight work pants.

Your brain scrambled to rationalize the errant reaction. You’re tired, maybe you had an involuntary dick flex, almost like you were sleeping. You rubbed your eyes again and blinked enough to try and focus on the screen again. 20 minutes, then you could get lunch. 19 minutes….

That day, you came back from lunch 15 minutes late with a sauce stain on your collar.

The second time (that you noticed, anyway) felt more like a pattern of behavior.

You were glancing at your fridge, as you’ve made a habit of recently, trying to find something to eat. You were eating out more often at work, and you had to stop burning money on takeout, but you felt like your groceries weren’t quite stretching as far as you’d like anymore.

You opened the fridge door and saw the last two frozen pizzas. A thought entered your mind, one that felt unfamiliar. Could always just eat two pizzas. Gotta go shopping tomorrow anyway. Not giving yourself a moment to reconsider, you slid them out and plopped them on the counter.

That wasn’t what took you over the edge, though. That wasn’t what made you this way.

Waiting for the oven to preheat, you fell back on your fridge gazing habit. A second thought entered, much like the first. If I’m going shopping, might as well use the rest of the lunch meat too. Before you realized, you already had the sandwich made and half eaten. You just licked your lips clean when the pizzas finished up, and you were suddenly hit with the smell of them - cheap, greasy cheese, fatty pepperoni…you could imagine the way the soft, lightly browned crust would collapse like a pillow in your mouth, the almost saccharine pizza sauce tempering the salty cheese and meat…and your dick chubbed up at the idea. Something about the sight of those two pizzas, all for you…it excited you.

You ate those pizzas so fast they nearly burned the roof of your mouth.

From then on, things were different. You weren’t focused at work, but you reveled in the opportunity to try new food in the city. Your work clothes were barely fitting, and you even had to size up once or twice already, but you thrived in those lunch breaks…you stopped coming back from lunch late not from eating any less, but eating faster. It became like a game to you. How much food could you experience in 30 minutes? You’d order an appetizer, a couple entrees, maybe a dessert for the walk back, and got there immediately to savor every bite. And in between, you’d fantasize about it. The rich, creamy sauces, the crispy, crunchy bread, the salty, savory meat, the sweet, rich cakes. You stopped caring so much that it was strange that it excited you like it did.

Forget a hobby, eating was your real full time job, the one you spent your time planning and day-dreaming about.

It stretched into your free time, too - you’d find places to get food on the way home, and spend the commute imagining how those flavors would play together. It didn’t even matter if it was particularly masterful - every meal was delicious, filling, exciting to you.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before you mixed your pleasure with your passion.

You were pent up. Sure, you had your profile on the dating apps, but you’d already updated your profile picture once, showing your fuller, flabbier face, and the connections already began to dry up. And with your new interest, you had an even fatter face to meet them with now, not to mention the bloated, overstuffed body you had along with it.

You were jerking off to some amateur porn when something flashed in your mind…melty, gooey cheese. Then, the rich whipped cream of a tiramisu. You never thought to actually do it yet, like…you could enjoy yourself, but the moment you actually tried to mix the two, it was real and you couldn’t turn back. Still, that night you were feeling particularly indulgent, and you had made a habit of acting on indulgence already.

You sat back up, walked to the kitchen, rummaging through your mostly empty fridge again, and found a mostly full bottle of whipped cream you had knocked over in the back. Simple, sugary, one handed. You plopped your thickened ass onto the couch and started stroking, with the other hand working the nozzle of the can.

Stroke. Spray. Stroke. Spray. You got caught in the rhythm of it, and in moments all the sensations blended together, like a well balanced dish. Mouth full. Sated. Cloying sweet cream. Fat coating your mouth. Stroke. Sticky fingers. Rolling your tongue, feeling the cream deflate in your mouth. Stroke. Sugar. Fat. Sweet. Decadent.

Shot.

Your relationship with food had finished changing, and left you with a gluttonous, decadent body to show for it.

You knew it was irreversible when you had finally gotten a message from one of the apps, a simple ‘hey’ flourishing into a spirited conversation about your (former) interests and hobbies.

Then, he asked the question. “Wanna go out tonight?”

You had already begun the daily ritual, scrolling through the pickup spots and settling on your favorite Thai place for pickup on the way home - you could get some pad Thai, their chicken satay, maybe a couple orders of dumplings and some sticky rice. The tang of the sauce, the silky noodles, the crunchy spring of the bean sprouts.

“Sorry, busy tonight.”

#story #wg #fat #xwg #weight gain #gaining #short story