#u wanna be confrontational ya know but

[satrs]

Hands Off! Or Not?

SYNOPSIS. The forbiddenness of it all so tempting, and restraint a thing of the past. To which depraved and perverse lengths are they going for you truly?

FEAT. XAVIER. ZAYNE. RAFAYEL. SYLUS. CALEB. xfem!reader

TAGS. MDNI! NSFW/DARK CONTENT! DUB-CON! sexual intercourse. unprotected intercourse. extremely pervy guys/acts. perverse actions. making out. jacking off to you without ur knowledge. blowjob and slight roleplay in zayne's. throatfuckin. SOMNOPHILIA in Sylus. watching u shower in rafayel's. shower sex. rafayel and caleb are kinda manipulative. dIrty talk. praise. size kink. oral, panty stealing and cunn!lingus(?)in calebs. Caleb cumin on ya panties lol(nasty ho). They r js nasty and pathetic, man. PANTY SNATCHER CALEB!!!

✎ A/N; Felt cute might delete later Hihi^^ Idk what's gotten into me but M' LOVIN' IT WUHUUU! Hope y'all are doin well and enjoy! xoxo

XAVIER ♡ Snatched!

Xavier, your reliable, caring neighbor.

You just entrusted him with your keys, begging him to tend to your plants while you're out for work since he's off for the week. And he gladly agrees.

But strangely, every time you come home, your plants look more withered than the day before. When you check on them, they're not even watered.

When you confront him about it, he just mentions how he waters them early in the morning so they dry by the evening. And with his slick words, you believe him.

Then, some of your things start appearing in the strangest places. Your lip gloss on the kitchen counter, a scarf on your bed, even panties you don’t remember wearing showing up in your dirty laundry. Weird.

You brush it off, blaming yourself for your forgetful nature, going about your morning routine before heading into another exhausting day of work. Just one more day, and then you won’t have to bother poor, busy Xavier with these tasks anymore.

Xavier, your reliable, sweet, and caring neighbor, moves on instinct as he checks the time, quick to hurry to your apartment door, unlocking it with ease.

Since the day you gave him your keys, it’s been the same routine.

He slips into your apartment after you leave, scanning over your belongings—your scarf, your lip gloss, even the forbidden rose toy you think is hidden in your drawer next to the bed. Anything that carries your essence is an item he’ll examine.

His first mistake.

And once he musters the courage to go into your panty drawer, he’s doomed before he even realizes it. Snatching a pristine pair of white lace panties, he lays back on your bed, taking a deep inhale of the sheets still coated in your scent before his hand travels down to free his aching cock.

His second mistake.

Lustful eyes scan the lace in his other hand as he wraps the flimsy material around his girthy length, his grip tightening as he strokes himself, imagining it to be your tight pussy instead, his head falling back against your headboard.

If this is wrong, dirty, even perverse—then why does it feel so damn good?

He could drown in your scent, stay in your bed like this forever, take panty after panty, repeating the same process over and over again.

He continues, lost in his pleasure, not even noticing the front door opening, the approaching footsteps, or the door creaking until—

"Xavier?"

His eyes snap open, panic surging through him. Before he can explain himself, his mouth falls shut, embarrassment creeping up his face.

"M’ just—"

"Just casually jerking off with my panties, right." You stand before him, arms crossed, a raised eyebrow aimed at his vulnerable form. But your gaze drops, lingering on his cock, still hard, still wrapped in your lace. And fuck, does it look good like that.

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. "You know what? You're lucky. I could use a little stress relief."

He watches in utter disbelief as you strip off your top, bright eyes soaking in your bare breasts, your perked nipples. His breath hitches when you step closer, knee dipping onto the mattress beside his hip, lustful gaze locking onto his.

"Wanna have the real deal?" You lower yourself onto his lap, heat pressing against his still-throbbing cock. "Then take it, you perv."

You don’t have to tell him twice.

His hands fly to your hips, pulling you down, a shuddering groan ripping from his throat as your soaked cunt draaags over him so deliciously.

His fingers dig into your flesh, thumbs brushing reverently over your waist, your thighs, committing the feel of you to memory.

His third mistake — nah, this is a blessing.

"Fuck," he exhales, voice raw. "Yer' for real?"

You roll your hips, smirking when he hisses. "What do you think?" Your fingers trail up his chest, tracing trembling muscles. " You could still leave. You can help yourself, can you?"

Xavier swallows thickly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. "N-no, wanna' stay," he murmurs, voice husky. "Wanted this forever— been waitin' for so long."

You hum, dragging your fingers along his jaw before gripping his chin. "Then show me."

"Heh, I'll show you, alright."

In one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, down your sternum. His tongue flicks over your nipple, making you arch into him, gasping as he sucks it into his mouth, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

His hands are everywhere—gripping your flesh, caressing your tender skin. He pulls back just enough to watch as he drags your soaked panties down your legs, letting them drop carelessly to the floor. His eyes darken as he spreads your legs, settling between them with a predatory gleam.

"So fucking pretty," he breathes, running his fingers through your slick folds before pressing a teasing kiss to your cheek. "Ohh, wanna feel ya'— pleaseee, lemme' get nice and comfy in yer' warm pussy, angel."

A shiver runs through you at his possessive tone, your body burning with anticipation, sending an electric shock right to your aching clit. "Then stop teasing and take what’s yours, Xavier."

He groans at your words, positioning himself at your entrance before sloooowly pushing in, the stretch making you moan as he fills you inch by inch. His head falls against your shoulder, panting against your skin as he finally bottoms out.

"Warm, s-so warm," he grits out, hands gripping your hips as he pulls back before thrusting in again, setting a deep, slow pace that has you whimpering beneath him. "Wanna stay like this—inside ya'—fuckkk."

Your nails dig into his back, urging him to go faster. And he does, movements rough, desperate, as his cock spreads you open, massaging your g-spot with his viciously, throbbing tip.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and curses filling the room, Xavier presses his forehead against yours, lips ghosting over your mouth, the incredible stretch causing your tongue to loll out weakly and he happily laps up your saliva, sucking on your wet muscle.

"Give it ta' me—fuckkk, all of it," he coaxes, thumb circling your clit in tight, deliberate motions, "Make a mess on me, c’mon, ya can't shy out now."

“G-gonna give it to me, yeah? Promise?” His voice is strangled, thick with lust as his thrusts grow frantic, erratic. His fingers dig into your hips, bruising, as he chases his high, grinding deep with every desperate snap of his hips.

You nod frantically, heat coiling in your stomach until it snaps, pleasure crashing over you. Your body tightens around him, and Xavier lets out a strangled groan as he follows, spilling his thick cum inside you, coating your walls in slick white as he buries his face in your neck, panting heavily.

For a moment, you both stay like that, tangled in each other, bodies slick with sweat until he pulls back just enough to look at you, a lazy smirk curling his lips.

"Oops. Forgot to water your plants today."

You huff out a laugh, pulling him down for another kiss, robbing a hiss from him as you slightly shift, cock springing to life inside you.

"Figured."

ZAYNE ♡ Doctor's Orders.

Zayne hates how much of a pervert he is.

He tells himself he should stop, that he should have some damn self-control, act like the composed professional he's supposed to be. But it’s just too tempting—especially when he catches those inviting glimpses of you during medical check-ups.

Like when he presses the stethoscope to your chest, fingers accidentally brushing over your soft skin as he pulls away. Or when you bend over, reaching for your toes for some 'spine check' he made up while he can’t help but admire the perfect curve of your ass.

He really can't help it.

It’s bad enough in his clinic, but it's so much worse when he does house calls.

You sit there so obediently, following every command, trusting him so completely. And it doesn’t help that you're dressed in ridiculously tight pajamas, your breasts practically spilling from the neckline, your thighs fully exposed, leaving little to the imagination.

Fuck. He could wreck you right here on this damned couch if he weren’t supposed to be acting professional.

"Alright, now open your mouth wide. I need to check your throat."

Lie.

You comply, lips parting in a teasing "ahhh," making a show of it just to get a rise out of him. And oh, does it work.

His grip tightens around the tongue depressor as he guides it to your tongue, watching you, trying so hard not to let his gaze meet yours because if he does—he’s done for.

But then his hand trembles, just enough to push the depressor a little deeper.

You gag. Loudly.

His cock twitches violently, and he swears he can feel a bead of pre-cum leaking into his briefs right then and there.

"M’ sorry," he mutters hastily, barely able to form words. "Feeling a bit off today. Been a long one. Can I use your restroom?"

"Of course! Are you alri—"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he's gone, practically sprinting to the bathroom.

The second the door is almost shut, he’s already fumbling with his belt, shoving his pants down and gripping his hefty cock, hissing as he wraps his fingers around the thick, aching length.

God, he’s horrible. Pathetically horrible.

He’s jacked off to the thought of you more times than he can count, but never in your home. Never with you just outside the door.

And the worst part?

He wants to get caught.

It's evident— his groans slip past his lips a little too loudly, the wet sounds of his strokes just barely muffled by the rush of running water. And he doesn’t even try to lock the door, leaving it cracked just enough—a silent invitation, a trap.

His hand moves faster, his mind spiraling into filthy thoughts, how much better would it sound if you were gagging around him instead of that damned wooden stick? If you looked up at him, lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowed, eyes teary?

"Fuck—"

His breath hitches, his body tensing—he’s about to—

"Z-Zayne? What the—!"

His eyes snap open, glasses nearly sliding off the bridge of his nose as he whips around.

And there you are. Standing in the doorway, lips parted, gaze locked onto his hand wrapped around his cock, glistening with pre-cum.

For a split second, shame claws at him, heat burning up his neck—until he sees a smirk creeping onto your lips.

"M’ sorry," he breathes, voice rough, unrepentant, "but you’re a vixen of a patient, you know that? Teasing me with your tight little outfit. You planned this, didn’t you?"

You tilt your head, playing innocent, though your eyes gleam with mischief. "Doctor... I think you’re just imagining things."

His grip on the sink tightens when you step closer, sinking to your knees before him, your breath ghosting over his swollen tip. And you giggle, giggle as you watch pre spurt out of his slit as your hand creeps up his thigh, doe-eyes locking with his.

You grasp him, a teasing flick of your tongue sending a sharp jolt through his entire body.

"Unbelievable," he huffs, fingers instantly tangling in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. "I’m not imagining things, trust me."

And then, with a firm push, he guides your mouth onto him, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as your lips wrap around his cock.

"Let's finish yer' check-up. Open wiiiiide— ya' know the drill. " His smirk deepens, hips rolling forward, forcing you to take him to your throat, the delicious gag you let out makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

His hips snap forward in a slow, deliberate thrust, dragging a needy whimper from your throat as he sinks deeper, stretching your lips around him further. His breathing is uneven now, heavy with restraint, but his control is crumbling, and you can feel it in the way his fingers flex against your scalp, the way he hurries to throw his fogged glasses of, his muscles coil under your touch.

His thrusts grow sharper, more demanding, and you take it, every inch of it, his cock sliding deep into your throat, eyes tearing.

The filthy, wet sounds of your mouth working him fill the small bathroom, along with his ragged breathing, the curses slipping past his lips as his body trembles beneath your touch.

You drag your nails up his thighs, feeling the way his muscles tense, how he shudders when you hum around him, sending vibrations straight through him. He groans your name, voice rough with need, his head tipping back, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure coils tight in his gut.

And then you dare to contract that tight throat of yours, squeezing his mushroomy, rosey tip so tight, he's starting to feel dizzy now.

"Fuck, sweetheart—" His voice breaks, a low growl vibrating in his chest as his thrusts falter, his entire body seizing under your touch. His grip tightens, almost bruising, but you welcome it, relishing the way he shudders, how his knees slightly buckle.

With a final, deep thrust, he spills into your mouth, a sharp curse falling from his lips as he rides out his release with weak bucks, his fingers still tangled in your hair. His chest rises and falls in harsh, uneven breaths, his body trembling as the last waves of pleasure crash over him.

His heavy breath fills the tight space, fingers now sliding through his disheveled hair as his cloudy gaze falls to your messed up face in awe, hair tangled from his firm grip, tearing eyes examining him as you happily swallow his hot semen, cum slicked lips stretching into a big smile right after.

Your knees dig into the floor as you tilt your head to lap up a droplet of semen trapped to his tip in delight.

"So," he catches his breath before reaching for his glasses with shaky fingers, swiftly putting them on,

"Same time next week?"

RAFAYEL ♡ Steambound

Rafayel is nothing if not considerate, letting you shower at his place while your apartment complex deals with yet another plumbing disaster.

You appreciate it, really. His shower is just as extravagant as the rest of his house—sleek, modern tiles stretching from floor to ceiling, the entire bathroom almost as big as your whole damn apartment.

Steam curls into the air, thick and heavy, wrapping the room in a heated mist. Water cascades down your tired body, and you close your eyes, exhaling softly, relishing in the warmth as it soothes your muscles.

But you don’t notice the faint crack in the door, nor the tall figure standing just beyond it, or predatory eyes locked onto your naked form through the glass, tracing the curve of your back to the soft swell of your ass.

Who could blame him?

He noticed you didn’t lock the door, and as he listened to the rhythmic patter of water, felt the humid air creeping into the hallway, he told himself to just take a quick peek, just to make sure you don’t need anything. A towel, maybe. Then he’d be on his way.

Why is he even lying to himself?

He always does this—always tries to craft reasonable excuses for his own depravity.

This isn’t the first time you’ve showered at his place, and it sure as hell isn’t the first time he’s watched you.

He’s perfected the art of lingering just out of sight, watching through a barely open door, catching glimpses of your reflection in the mirror as you undress in the guest room he swears he never uses.

Or when you step out of the shower, towel wrapped snugly around your glistening body, droplets still clinging to your skin, he’s there, lurking, memorizing every inch of you, maybe even letting his hand drift lower, palming himself through his pants as he drinks in the sight, knowing that just watching won’t be enough.

So, when he's feeling extra risky, he'll sneak a peak into the shower, like right now, unbuttoned pants hanging low as he slowly strokes his aching cock to you soaping your body with his body wash, in his shower, your hands gliding along your delicate skin and he wishes, prays he could touch you like that.

You mindlessly pour the shampoo into your hair, turning just right for him to catch a glimpse of your exposed front, tits on full display. Your eyes are cautionary closed, careful not to get any of the product in your eyes.

And he's taking full advantage of that.

His head rests against the doorframe, low-hanging eyes and mouth agape as he tries to sneak a peak at your cunt, but he's just too far away.

What a shame.

Desperate to catch a glipse, he lets out a frustrated huff, maybe a little too loud, causing you to halt in your tracks, turning your head with cautiong, eyes closed covered with remnants of bubbles.

"Rafayel? Is that you?"

Your voice cuts through the thick steam, startled and unsure, and it makes his stomach clench, as his hand tightens desperately onto his bulky tip and his breath stutters. His name so sweet on your tongue—he shouldn't react like this, but he can't help but stroke his heavy cock firm in his palm, faster, stronger.

A shiver runs down his spine, his grip tightening around himself again, a quiet muffled moan slipping past his bitten lip, overwritten by the dripping noise of the water, his ears flush red. Damn it.

This wasn’t how he planned to spend his night, fisted around his cock, your scent thick in the air, soap and you making his head as cloudy as the humid air around him. But you’re here now, close enough that he swears he can feel the warmth of your body beyond the veil of condensation.

And maybe it’s reckless—no, it is reckless, but desire makes him bold. He exhales sharply, letting his hesitation crumble, and before he can overthink it, he pushes past the fogged glass and steps fully into view.

Your reaction is instant. A sharp gasp, eyes going wide as you stumble backward, water cascading down your bare shoulders. Your hands, trembling, fly up to shield yourself, though they do little to conceal the curve of your hips, the soft swell of your chest, the way droplets cling to your flushed skin.

His gaze darkens, tracing every detail greedily, hunger curling low in his stomach. His lips twitch, amusement flickering beneath the heat in his stare. That trembling attempt at modesty, those blown-out eyes staring at him like he's some kind of dangerous animal—like he’s something hazardous— God, he might cum right there.

"Mind if I join in? The shower is big enough for two, no?"

Your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes darting between his face and his tall, sculpted frame while he cautiously steps closer—dripping, bare, utterly unapologetic as he stands before you.

Everything feels so hot, from the hot steam to his body so close to yours, to the lingering feeling in the pit of your tummy. You should scream, slap, cuss him out, but,

"Y-you, you perv" , is all you can muster, your whole body tensing as your eyes linger at his straight, heavy dick maybe for a little too long.

Fuck, this is turning you on.

Rafayel watches every shift of your expression like a predator drinking in the scent of his prey.

Embarrassment and conflict, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying just how hard your heart is pounding.

But beneath it—Oh, he sees it. That flicker of something curious, enticed, even, something that makes his blood run straight to his already painfully hard, pounding length.

"I prefer the term 'enthusiast'. Plus," he's inching closer, finger reaching behind to turn off the flowing fountain of water, "I let you shower here for weeks, ya owe me, ya' know."

Droplets cling to his skin now, sliding over every defined muscle, down the sharp lines of his abs, following the ridges like they’re tracing a path meant for your eyes to follow.

You press yourself against the cool tile, heart hammering against your ribs, but you don’t look away. You can’t. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, hard, thick, aching.

And he’s not even trying to hide it.

"I don’t owe you anything," you manage, but your voice is weak, your body betraying you with every shaky inhale, every slight tremble he notices instantly.

Rafayel smirks, watching you intentively. "Oh, cutie," he drawls, rolling his shoulders as the warm water cascades over him, washing away the last remnants of restraint. "You don’t even believe that yourself."

Coral eyes trail lower, drinking in the sight of you of your glistening skin— the way some bubbles still slide down your curves, clinging to the peaks of your breasts before slipping down between your thighs.

"Look at cha'," he murmurs, thick voice drenched in lust "Fuckin' perfect."

You shift under his gaze, thighs pressing together, but it’s useless—he sees everything. He always does.

Your breath stutters, heat licking up your spine, but you shake your head, desperate to deny it. "That’s not—"

His fingers swiftly trail lower, slipping between your legs, rubbing just once over the slick, buttony clit, and you nearly collapse.

Rafayel groans, his forehead dropping against yours for a moment, his breath coming out ragged.

He hisses, other hand forming into a tight fist, holding onto his last bit of sanity — if there's even anything left. "Yer' cute cunny 's sayin' sometin' else," precise fingers glide down to tease your fluttering hole, "You sure you want me ta' stop?"

Your mind his clouded, gaze hazy, shaky hand coming up to trace down his slim waist, halting just above his pelvis.

A whimper escapes you, gasping when he grips your thigh and hikes it up around his waist, pressing you closer, his cock gifting your clit a quick, addictive kiss.

"You could’ve locked the door," he breathes against your ear, his voice dripping with amusement, sin. "You could’ve told me to fuck off the second I stepped inside. But you didn’t."

His lips graze your throat, nipping at the delicate skin, making you squirm.

"You wanted this, didn’t you?" he growls, rolling his hips, letting the thick length of him drag against your slick folds, teasing, taunting. "You wanted me to come in and give this pussy some proper lovin' hm?"

A broken moan spills from your lips, nails digging into his shoulders, but he only grins, reveling in your unraveling.

"Say it," he demands, voice laced with need and desire. "Tell me you want this — want me, and I'll treat this needy cunny sooo good."

His digits find your clit again, circling it lazily, his teasing touch making your legs shake.

"Tell me," he repeats, pressing the head of his cock right against your entrance, barely pushing in, just enough to make you feel the stretch, make you crave for more.

Your head falls back against the tile, lips parted, body trembling, and as the words spill from you in a breathless whimper— he loses it.

Groaning, his patience snaps as he slams his mouth over yours, tongue plunging deep, stealing the last bit of your resistance. And before you can even register it he’s inside you, stretching your walls so meanly agape, your breath halts in your lungs.

"Ohhh, baby" he growls against your lips as he fully bottoms out inside you. "Finally— fuckkkk, finally. Was so tired of js' watchin' ya'."

You can feel him everywhere— his tongue tangling with yours, desperate claws on your thigh and hips, his selfish cock spreading you so lewdly, so meanly, you almost don't notice the bulge in your tummy— almost.

"Goddd, g-gonna be the death of me, cutie", his words come out in a quiet whisper as his eyes fall down to his cock marking a visible spot on your tummy, bullying his way into your cervix.

He picks up a quicker pace, deep thrust jolting you further up the cold tiles.

And each appearance of his cock against your belly, each little sound he swallows from your bitten lips make his balls tighten, threatening to pump his load deep into you.

"Ya' feel even better than I imagined. So greedy, suckin' me in so damn deep."

And he has imagined. So many times.

But now? Now he doesn’t have to anymore.

SYLUS ♡ Home Sweet Home!

Sylus always had a calculated mind, being two steps ahead of everyone around him- even you.

So once in a while when you're sleeping over at his place, he takes the sleeping-gap you both have to his advantage. Well, more often than he'd like to admit.

This has become quite the routine once you come over, he'll spend time with you, then leave for so called buissnes late at night. Sure,, he had a lot to do as the Leader of a criminal organization but sometimes? he just drove off around the corner of his home, waiting, preying.

He's purposely come home later than usual, sitting in his car as he watches you in his room through Mephisto, getting ready for bed.

He's waiting, watching intensly with his leg tapping the floor of his car as he watches you get into the bed with a defeaded sigh, the long wait of waiting for Sylus return now overwritten by the need to sleep.

So once he notices the lights turning off, your regular breathing indicating that you're far off into the dreamland now.

That's when he strikes.

The door creaks open, closing with a soft click! as Sylus steps into the dimly lit apartment.

You're sprawled out on his bed, breathing softly, body tangled in the blood-red sheets, wearing only his shirt, the fabric barely clings to your body, slipping off one delicate shoulder, the hem riding up just enough to tease a slight view of your panties.

His pupils blow in excitement, silver eyebrows raising in amusement.

"Would you look at that," he muses, voice thick with something sinful.

The bed dips as he climbs in, tugging the blanket you curled yourself into to crawl inside it, your warm, resting body spurting excitement right to his cock,

He watches you sleep, listening to the soft sounds of your breathing while palming himself through his pants. He never touched you —he would never—but God, the temptation burned.

And once he hears your sleeping form mutter a silent moan, he tenses.

What could you possibly be dreaming of?

He fights internally, fingers twitching, itching to touch you.

His suspicions solidified once a short gasp spilled from your lips, your thighs clenching under the sheets as you shamelessly moan his name in your sleep.

He pushes the blanket aside, exposing your flushed form with eyes scrunched together, thighs twitching as your hips rock against nothing.

"S-Sylus. Need you."

God, he can't help himself.

You said it yourself, you need him. So you wouldn't mind if he gives you just what you're craving for, right?

The bed dips as he climbs over you, one knee pressing between your legs. His fingers ghost along your exposed thigh, pushing the fabric up further, revealing more of the soft skin beneath, careful not to stir you from your peaceful slumber.

Sylus exhales slowly, forcing himself to move with precision and restraint. His touch is featherlight, tracing the delicate curve of your thigh, reveling in the way your skin shivers under his fingertips.

You're so warm, so soft—his perfect little prize wrapped up in his sheets, whispering his name like a prayer even in sleep.

His cock strains against his slacks, aching, desperate. But he won't rush. No, he intends to savor this. Thoroughly.

Carefully, he brushes his knuckles along the inside of your thigh, eyes locked onto your face, watching for any sign of wakefulness. But you only sigh, legs parting slightly in response as if inviting him closer.

With painstaking patience, he lets his fingers skim the edge of your panties, tracing the damp fabric stretched over your core. The moment he feels the warmth, the wetness gathered there, a deep, shuddering breath escapes him.

Fuck.

You're dreaming of him.

He palms himself through his trousers again, exhaling sharply at the realization. His perfect girl, all worked up because of him, soaking through her panties in the middle of the night, writhing against the sheets, lost in whatever sinful fantasy has her gasping his name.

It's almost too much to bear.

You shift in your sleep, a tiny sigh leaving your lips as goosebumps leave a trail on your skin from the remnant of his delightful touches.

"I'm home, honey." he hums, teasing.

His large hands slide beneath your shirt with a rough, determined purpose, fingers splaying wide as if he means to carve the shape of you into his memory. His palms are calloused, a stark contrast to the softness of your skin, and the way he grips your waist—firm, unyielding, and he wonders how you've not even woken up yet despite his desperate claws.

Breath stuttering, low and ragged, followed by a guttural groan that rumbles deep in his chest as he feels the heat of your bare flesh beneath his hands like it’s driving him out of his mind.

Leaning in without hesitation, mouth finding your exposed shoulder, lips dragging with tenderness. He doesn’t kiss so much as claim, lingering long enough for his teeth to graze the sensitive skin before moving lower.

He trails downward, tasting every inch like he’s memorizing the way you shudder beneath him.

His grip tightens, possessive, almost bruising, pulling you flush against him until there’s no space left to breathe, to think—only the pounding of your heartbeat against his and the searing heat coiled between you. His mouth finds the hollow of your throat, tongue flicking out, slow and hot, before his teeth scrape lightly, dangerously, earning a desperate sound from deep within you.

“Wakey, wakeyyy,” he hums against your skin, voice wrecked, with a teasing undertone. His hands slide higher now, beneath fabric and hesitation alike, and everywhere he touches feels like it’s burning, unraveling you thread by thread.

"Were you waiting for me like this, baby?" he hums between open-mouthed kisses, voice like warm honey, " all soft and ready for me?"

A pleased sound rumbles from his chest as you sigh in response, your body instinctively shifting closer to his heat. He watches the slow rise and fall of your breath, the way your lashes flutter ever so slightly, the unconscious parting of your lips so inviting.

His hands spread your further thighs apart, a pleased groan escaping his throat as he comes face to face with your dampened panties, outline of your needy cunt plastered so firmly, he can't look anywhere but.

He doesn't shy away, his hunger mounting as he palms himself through his slacks, the thick outline of his arousal pressing insistently against the fabric.

"Beautiful," he breathes, grinding his freed cock against you, hanging firm above his lazily undone pants, pre staining your panties even more, the wet spot now bleeding further into the cotton material. He watches with rapt fascination as your body reacts instinctively—your thighs twitch, a soft whimper escapes your lips, your hips lift ever so slightly, longing for more.

His cock twitches at the sight.

"Mmm, that's my good girl," he praises, slipping his hands beneath your thighs, hoisting you up just enough to slide your panties to the side before aligning his pulsating crown on your clenching hole.

Sylus pushes in slowly, letting out a long, deep groan as your warmth stretches around him. The feeling of your needy cunny—hot, tight, wet—makes his head spin.

"S-Sylus?! When did you—hngggh!"

Ah, you're awake.

Your eyes flutter open, glazed over with sleep, a dazed confusion mixed with pleasure contorting your features as you register the delicious stretch filling you up.

"M' sorry, sweetheart," he hisses, pressing his forehead against yours, his voice strained with restraint. "Couldn't help myself."

Your hands scramble to grip his strong shoulders, your nails biting into the firm muscle, legs lazily wrapping around his waist, still heavy from sleep, pulling him deeper. The sensation sends him reeling, and he rolls his hips forward, sinking further until he’s buried his pulsating cock to the hilt, brushing against your cervix ridiculously fast.

"Nghhh! M-more."

He chuckles, breathless and cocky. "Mm, patience, baby. I always give you what you want, no?"

His thrusts start slow, deep, and deliberate, dragging against your sensitive walls. He watches you, utterly enthralled, drinking in the way your lips part, how your nails dig into his skin, how your body shudders beneath him.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs against your lips, voice filled with pure adoration. "Always—such a perfect girl for me."

"B-been waitin' for you for so long,", your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, your body still adjusting to the overwhelming fullness. But Sylus doesn’t stop—he won’t stop. He needs this. He needs you.

"My sweet, poor darling. But I'm here now, and 'm not leaving anytime soon."

His pace picks up, hips slamming into you harder, deeper, hitting that mawkish spot that has your toes curling, your moans turning breathless.

"Yeahhh," he growls, his grip on your thighs tightening. "You see? Told you I—hahh— always take care of you, hm?"

You can’t speak—you can only whimper, nodding frantically, back arching as pleasure crashes through you. Every thrust drags against that spot, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, the heat pooling in your belly threatening to snap.

"Words, baby," he demands, grinning against your cheek. "Tell me."

"T-taking so much care for me! A-always fuckin' me sooooo good—!"

His groan is primal, his thrusts turning erratic. His lips are on yours in an instant, swallowing your moans in a messy, desperate kiss. His hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your aching clit, rubbing fast, ruthless circles over the swollen bud.

Your body snaps.

Pleasure explodes through you, hard, hot and overwhelming, your walls clenching down around him like a vice. Your legs tighten around his waist, back arching off the bed as wave after wave crashes over you, your voice breaking on a strangled cry of his name.

"Fuck—fuck, sweetie," he groans, his rhythm stuttering. Your tight, convulsing heat sends him over the edge with you, his breath hitching, hips twitching as he buries himself as deep as he can go, spilling his hot spurts of cum inside you with a strangled, guttural grunt.

For a moment, he stays there, buried deep, catching his breath, his body trembling against yours. Then, a lazy smirk pulls at his lips.

"Gorgeous fuckin' mess," he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss against your jaw

You let out a soft, contented whimper, your body still trembling beneath him.

And by the determined glee in his eyes, you know he's not done playing with his prey yet.

CALEB ♡ No Shame!(What for?)

Your breath stalls in your chest, heart hammering against your ribs as your mind scrambles to make sense of what’s in front of you.

Panties. Your panties.

The delicate lace, once delicate, is now stuck together in places, soaked through with his cum. The sheer amount of it—thick, messy, so obviously fresh—makes your stomach tighten, not with disgust or fear, but something different.

Your fingers tremble as you hold the fabric aloft, staring, your pulse roaring in your ears.

This isn’t possible. It can’t be.

Sweet, wholesome Caleb—the one who always looked after you, who laughed at your dumb jokes, who ruffled your hair like an annoying big brother—there’s just no way. He couldn’t possibly be this perverse. He couldn’t have been stealing your underwear, jerking off into them like some depraved animal, desperate to soak them in his filth.

Right?

This was just supposed to be a quick peek into his room for any of his dirty laundry while he's showering to throw it into the machine alongside yours. Well alright, maybe you also wanted to check for your favorite missing pair of panties, just to be sure.

And there they are, the proof right here, warm and glistening between your fingers.

You’re so stunned, so utterly paralyzed by its sheer indecency that you don’t even hear the dropping water halting, the bathroom door open. Don’t even sense the presence behind you—not until you hear that soft, unmistakable click!

Your entire body jolts as realization slams into you.

You turn too fast, nearly stumbling, your breath lodged in your throat as your gaze collides with his.

He's bare-chested, still dripping from the shower, skin gleaming under the soft bedroom light, droplets of water trailing down his defined abs before disappearing beneath the loosely tucked edge of his towel, blocking the door, leaving no escape.

You’re trapped.

And the way he’s looking at you, amused, dark-eyed, and slow-smirking— so damn shameless, makes your stomach tighten in the worst possible way.

"Snooping around my room? That’s so unlike you, pips'."

His voice is smooth, unbothered, as if he isn’t standing there half-naked, as if he doesn’t see the ruined panties clutched in your trembling grasp.

His gaze flicks downward to your hand, to the lace still sticking to your fingers with his spent desire, to be exact.

Heat scorches through you. A sick, embarrassed thrill coils in your gut, because oh god—you’re still holding it.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through other people’s things?"

You drop the panties like they burn, but it’s too late.

He knows you’ve seen them, knows you’ve realized what he’s done, knows you’re still standing here, trapped in his room.

"You weren’t supposed to find those, y’know," he muses, taking another step closer. The damp heat radiating off his skin encloses you, his fresh and clean scent washing over you, making your legs go weak.

Your breath shudders unable to do anything but watch him come closer and closer, the towel on his hips hanging dangerously low.

"What’s wrong?" he hums, tilting his head, mocking innocence dripping from his voice. "Cat got your tongue? Or," he leans in, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath ghost across your cheek, "Are you just wondering how many other pairs I’ve got?"

Your pulse pounds, deafening. The way he says it so casually, so fucking bold, makes it obvious. This isn’t the first time, fuck— he’s been doing this for god knows how long.

"Caleb," you finally choke out, his name barely more than a whisper.

"Let's make a deal, sweets," he murmurs, reaching up, up, up— his fingers trace your wrist, featherlight, teasing, and playful, "I'll stop stealing them if ya' let me get a taste of the real thing. How's that sound, pips'?"

And your hesitant nod, bitten lips, and glazed eyes are all he needs as his strong hands grip your waist, twisting you around, forcing you backward.

Your back hits the mattress with a gasp, the soft give of his bed swallowing your weight. The room spins, the scent of him, clean from his shower, wrapping around you, suffocating in the most intoxicating way.

This is wrong.

He's on you, caging you in, hands moving quickly to remove your short pants from your legs, your shirt riding up in the process, panties on full display, and not to mention the prominent wet, stain riiiight at the center of where he imagines your needy cunt to be.

Oh so you want this as much as he does, huh?

His arms are braced on either side of your head, towel hanging low on his hips, barely clinging on. His damp hair drips onto your skin, cool against the fire burning beneath your flesh. His muscles flex above you, broad shoulders dwarfing you, leaving you breathless under his weight.

Who are you trying to fool?

You wanted this, hell- maybe even prayed for your panties to be in his possession, prayed for him to finally touch you, to have him between your legs like this,

And your prayers have been heard.

His knee spreads your legs without hesitation, without shame, pinning you open beneath him. And before you can even think, his head dips down, his mouth right at your thigh, his nose dragging against the heat between your legs.

"Never seen this pair before," he breathes, his voice rough, heavy with something filthy.

Your whole body locks up because god—he’s so close, pressing his face against your panties, nuzzling the damp fabric, so shamelessly, so utterly desperate, taking a big whiff of your scent, making you wail in embarrassment.

A deep, guttural, fucking shameless moan wrecks from his throat, so obscene, so needy, that you feel the heat of it pulse straight to your needy pussy.

"Fuckkk," he groans, dragging his nose up, nuzzling slow, breathing deep. "Ya' smell so damn sweet, baby."

Your hands fly to his shoulders, weakly pushing, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he presses in deeper.

"Didn't think ya' could keep ts' cute cunny hidden from me, did ya'?" he purrs, hot breath fanning against the wetness he’s indulging in, dropped gaze engulfing your expressions whole.

And then—

His tongue. Right against the fabric, mere atoms away from your bare clit, slow, deliberate kitten-licks draaaag over the damp lace, so close yet so maddeningly far, and your head snaps back against the mattress, a moan spilling from your lips before you can stop it.

His breath left him in a rough chuckle, fingers flexing as if resisting the urge to rip your lace apart right then and there.

"H-hey, no peeking!" You try to scold, your hands darting down to grasp his hand threatening to get rid of the fabric—but Caleb's faster.

Hand snapping yours away, a low growl retorts, a primal sound that sends heat licking down your spine.

He loves your panties, he really does. But right now, he just wants to fucking tear them apart.

"Baby, ohhh — babybabybaby," he groans against your hidden folds, rolling his hips once, twice against the bed, watching as your head tipped back, a sharp gasp leaving you.

"C-Caleb—"

That was all it took for him to finally lose it.

With one swift movement, a loud riiiip! echoing as he tears your panties from you, exposing your aching pussy bare before him.

He doesn't tease. Doesn't wait.

A low, primal sound resonates before he crashes headfirst into your soaked cunt. His hands take control, gripping your thighs, dragging you forward until your soaked heat is pressed firmly against his eager mouth as he bucks his hips into the bed like a desperate mess.

A sharp cry rips from your throat, legs locking around his head as he fills you with his tongue, forcing you open. Your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking your head back as his lips latch onto your clit, biting teasingly, sucking onto your clit with such a devastating grip your mind goes blank.

"Yer' fucking drenched," he groans, voice tight with restraint. "So eager for me, hmm?"

Each drag of his tongue scraping the inside of your hole, his nose repeatedly bumping into your throbbing clit sends pleasure detonating through your core, deep and merciless, making you cling to his hair with desperate fingers. The room's air is thick, humid, filled with the obscene sound of sloppy spurts of your juices coating his face, the sharp gasps, the deep grunts of a man losing himself in you— in your pussy.

His tongue presses down harder on your clit, circling in tight, devastating licks that had your thighs trembling around his head.

Every time his tongue drags over you, his hips jerk in rhythm, grinding pathetically against nothing but air and friction, chasing the sensation like a man starved.

But it’s the way he works his tongue that sends you spiraling, spelling out his name over your throbbing, swollen clit like a brand.

C-A-L-E-B-C-A-L-E-B-C-A-L-E-

Each letter feels like it’s seared into you, curling perfectly around every sensitive nerve, his mouth obscene in its devotion. There’s nothing measured about it now, nothing held back, just raw, consuming need as he devours you like you’re the only thing tethering him to sanity.

"H-hahhh, fuck!—" Your voice wrecked, high-pitched, barely coherent. Your nails bite into his scalp, desperate for something to anchor you as your body teetered on the edge.

Your fingers twist tightly in his hair, yanking hard enough to make his head tilt back for a moment, his groan reverberating straight through your core. The sound vibrates against you, deep and guttural, sending a sharp jolt of electricity ripping down your spine.

He doesn’t falter, if anything, the rough pull only spurs him on. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and glazed, pupils blown wide with hunger, and the sight alone nearly undoes you.

“Feels good, baby?” he rasps against your hole, his voice wrecked, teasing, but tinged with something almost desperate.

The plap, plap, plap of his hips rutting against the sheets with shameless abandon, towel long abandoned on the floor somewhere, matching the frantic curl of his tongue as he snaps his hips up, the sound of his slurping assault lewd and filthy.

"Give it ta' me, c'mon. Allll of it," Caleb mutters, vibration hot against your folds, his grip tightening, the muscles in his arms flexing as he slams you firmly, deep into the mattress, leaving no room to move.

The pleasure crested, blinding, and almost unbearable. Your whole body locked up as the first wave of your orgasm slammed into you—violent, tearing a broken, breathless scream from your lips, your tongue helplessly dangling from your open mouth, slick saliva dripping onto the sheets.

But Caleb doesn't stop.

He keeps going, arms locking around your thighs, forcing them up, up up, harshly against your stomach in a mating press, dragging out every last pulse, every aftershock, every clench of your walls around his wet muscle.

"That's it," he groans, voice ragged with need. "So fucking—shiiitt—tasty fuckin' pussy—"

Your body convulses, pleasure still rolling through you in relentless waves, too much and not enough at the same time. Your thighs shake, breath coming in ragged gasps, vision hazy as your orgasm drags on—longer, deeper, more intense than you’d ever felt before.

"Fuhh-fuck!—"

And as you come down from your soul-shattering high, arm dapped across your face to catch your breath, his hunter eyes bore into your form, hand sneaking down to snatch the destroyed piece of fabric from the valley of your ass, swiftly stuffing them under his pillow.

Bingo. Another one added to his collection.

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[screampied]

HIHI VEGAS!! HOW ARE YA DOING?!

i’ve had this idea for a while and i was wondering if u could write it!!

trying to get off while your husband (geto or nanami) were gone on a mission that took a few days and you started to get frustrated because you couldn’t no matter how much you tried but little did you know he was standing at the door way to your shared room watching try so hard?! and after he confronted you about it he made you get off multiple times and you even squirted for the first time once or twice?!!

nanami catching you playing with yourself — ★.

cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, brief cunnılingus, praise, first time squırt, mdni. an. hii i’m okay!

with brows frustratingly furrowed and a tangled few fingers of yours curled into your sopping cunt, you whine. it’s been a few days since nanami left for a mission and truth be told—you missed him, dearly. more than anything though, you missed his beloved touch. only your husband knew how to make you moan with something as simple as physical touch. he knew you—more importantly, he knew your body. trembly legs of yours sprawl wide open whilst you’re in the midst of trying to locate your concealed g-spot. alas, it’s so cute because regardless of how many attempts you tried, you could never do it like he could. you’re struggling, coating the entirety of your digits with your slit before you slump back in detestation defeat.

a pout goes against your lips as you swear underneath your breath. yet little did you know, nanami was leaning against the door. “aw, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a soft voice, and you jolt immediately once you realize he’s been watching this entire time. you felt a sudden wave of hotness set against your skin like wind, embarrassment overtaking you. dragging his feet against the wooden floor, he tugs on his tie. “havin’ fun?” and once you pout more, he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. you shake your head and he chortles. “ohh, i see. poor baby couldn’t even do it right. but don’t worry, kento’s here—let’s pick up where you left off, yeah?”

his words were so so smooth, just his dialogue alone was enough for you to get off. nanami had a way with words for sure. he could say anything in his deep, tantalizing voice and you’d be creaming in an instant. that’s one of the many things he’s always loved about you though.

“o- okay,” you inhale a single sharp breath, having your wrist already bent to a ninety degree angle. two pathetic fingers of yours pull out and he gazes at the soaking mess of a scene. “i know ‘m supposed ‘ta wait ‘till you get home but i was bored, ‘ken. missed you so bad.”

“baby, ‘s okay,” he reassures with a warm smile, grabbing ahold of your wrist.

his touch, you were still a bit sensitive. as his fingers dance against your skin for a few seconds, you felt that familiar throbbing pool of heat introduce itself. a school of pulsing convulsions rupture out of you so haphazardly that it’s almost splitting you from the inside out. you’re panting out of your full, heavy lungs, and that’s when nanami plants a tender kiss near the beloved crown of your head. “missed you more. ‘n don’t worry that pretty head. ‘sides, you know you can call me right?”

“but— but you’d be working,” you mumble, watching as he slowly spreads your legs further.

nanami gingerly brings a hand between your thighs, a thumb stroking against your puffy swollen clit.

swollen to the very entrance, it’s drooling, dribbling sloppily with your anticipating arousal so much that he feels the inevitable tent arise in his slacks. he’d only been watching for a good five minutes—but he couldn’t stand to see his precious baby struggle. the least he could do was teach you right. as you’re still moaning up a storm, you conclude your sentence with a sweet and shaky, “didn’t wanna disturb you.”

“next time, call me,” and his voice was pitchy.

a fair amount of raspy baritone drags around his words before he inches his head down towards your thighs. softly, he grips your left leg before languidly giving your cunt three passionate kisses. those kisses were tender—entirely sloppy, his chin rubs against your folds and you whine, already feeling your arch.

you whimper out his name in pleasure with a featuring hand immediately digging through his mahogany messy strands.

“doesn’t matter if ‘m on my break or not, i’ll always make time for you. if you play with yourself baby—play with her, i wanna hear it too.”

the most kindest eyes meets your gaze for another time—they then flicker down towards your pussy before he swiftly whistles against it. “wheww, she’s all hot ‘n ready, isn’t she,” and speaking of hot, the air feels substantially thick. so thick that you could cut right through the weightless wind with a knife.

nanami lets off a gruff groan, reaching for his pants before yanking down his dress slacks. “sweetheart, i find it cute though. just the image of you not knowing how to finger yourself properly. thought i showed you how, remember?”

with a heaving gasp, your legs were laid all out for him on display as if your body was a canvas. showing off for him as if you were a mere museum piece.

in which—to be honest, you were.

his special, priceless museum piece.

“i— i tried,” you babble, the feverish air of his warm breath aerating against your folds makes you twitch. despite him being so patient and gentle with you—understanding even, he’s still a bit of a tease. he can’t help it. your sharp breathy pants only intensifies the more each millisecond seconds passes and progresses. all the while you’re trying to match your irregular breathing patterns, a clammy hand of yours combs through his umber, unkempt slick back. “can’t do it like you, kento. my fingers are too weak.”

“aw, ‘s okay. guess you jus’ need more training then,” he guffaws with the most kindhearted, gentle expression. that soon fades once you whine, feeling nanami’s plump, perfect lips surprise your cunt with a needy brief nibble.

the moment his rotating tongue swirls against your entrance its over. it’s so slick and,

already . .

you start to coat his chin with your wetness. it’s shimmery, shining against the window pane that had sun ricocheting against the class. so effortlessly pretty. with your quavering legs being all in the air practically, you grind your hips against his face as you’re laid back.

as countless whimpers mercilessly snatch out from your dry throat, you then start to feel the soft fading stubble of nanami’s against your pussy. briefly, it tickles against your skin before it grabs out a louder bundle of moans. the stimulation of his faint facial hair smearing against your entrance makes you pulse more than you’d initially realize. long, lengthy lashes of his flutter shut and as he’s buried between your thighs—seconds go by before he then gathers out two fingers.

his thickset index and a middle finger, both long and you only ached for them to be inside. you didn’t wanna wait anymore— all you knew was that you needed him.

badly, as if your life depended on it.

nanami’s fingers were so slender lengthy, staggering inches. already, you were losing your train of thought . . imagining his long fingers stirring the insides of your cunt, clamping down against your walls. as youre in your own erotic little phantasm, you try to think of it all. nanami praising you how good you’re doing, how soaked you are—even talking you through it in that warm, alluring voice.

as you’re entrapped in your own thoughts, it makes you suck your teeth in wanting desire. your imagery would only soon turn real within a few sloppy seconds.

“stay with me, silly girl,” he purrs, a teasing smile contorting against his lips. it’s a stretch—merely, with a swatting tiny smack against your cunt, you’re brought right back to reality. you moan, trailing your hooded eyes back down at him and he flashes you a warm, innocent smile. prying his mouth away momentarily, he prods an index finger against your entrance— watching as it slowly makes its way in. slowly, it seeps into your drenched cunt and you whine out a mewl. your sweet noises ring through his ears before he inserts another one. nanami mimics a bowling ball grip with his wrist, a low raspy, “oooh,” slithering out of his throat before he gives your pussy another kiss. a french kiss against your folds—deep, sloppy, and strictly passionate. your glutinous slick glosses against his lips—his chin and below, and it’s nothing but a pleasing sight to see.

lewd, but salaciously pleasing,

“seeee. all you had to do, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone.

hearing the sloshing slopping squelches your own cunt makes, he gets more aroused. you’re not helping the growing boner he’s got. still, nanami’s got the perfect angle, it’s almost too perfect.

two hands of yours drag near your neglected breasts—fondling with them as you bite your lip. once the bit skin gnashes against the keen edges of your teeth, you mom again. jerking further back, your lips slither cutely into an ‘o.’ chuckling, nanami then starts to ease both digits in and out. thrust after thrust—he starts off slow so you can adjust. he’s fingered you before, countless times even. but with him, it always seemed like the first time. it was that good.

its rhythm was enticing,

the crazed stimulation has your so brain fuzzy that you could barely comprehend anything but the soft padded tips of nanami’s thick fingers. “my, you’re quite the soaker today,” he continues to speak, and he lolls his tongue against your folds. your taste was his ultimate favorite—no matter how many times he’d get a quick slurp, he was never satisfied.

well—he was, but nanami kento was a perhaps a bit of a greedy man. he always wanted more of you.

every single time,

raising a brow, he grows curious once you suddenly sit up, pulling him towards you.

landing with an oof, he plops flat on his back. a hand runs through his messy hair as he cranes his neck to get a good look at you. you’re so breathtaking when you try to get what you want.

nanami doesn’t even bother to ask any questions, he always finds it cute whenever you try to have your way with him. keyword, try.

“well, excuse me,” and he spots the cute feral look in your dilated irises. you’re needy, still feeling your cunt twitch between your thighs, you crawl towards his lap to straddle him. “hm. w- what’s this?”

“wanna ride you,” was all your quavering lips could ramble out. nanami’s signature cologne scent was loud. as you make your way closer towards him, it was the only thing you could make out. his musk, his known, manly musk that never failed to give you obscene whiplash. nanami glances at the adorably ethereal sparkle in your eyes and his big hands glue onto your hips. sliding your laced panties to the crevices of your thighs, you spring out his weighty cock. “need you, ‘ken.”

“s… so impatient today, huh,” nanami softly smiles, allowing you to feel all over his body. despite him wearing mission clothes still, your hands felt his bulging muscles poke out through the piles of fabric.

once his hardened dick’s out, you moan—leaning into his neck, a hand of yours giving it a few solid pumps. nanami hisses, pulling you closer to him before you arise your jittery hips. “but- but my love,” he swallows, peppering a few kisses near the crook of your neck. “are ya sure you can handle it? you barely—”

“i can take it, ‘ken.”

famous last words—

you said you could take him, but it was the mere opposite. perhaps you’d let your horniness overtake you, because as you’re trying to barrel his fat tip inside, your legs tremor. it’s like the calm before the storm—your legs vibrate and twitch, preparing to erupt and quiver like a predicted earthquake. as you’re tightly holding onto his pent up shoulders, you whine, the peeling head of his plump cock smears itself against your soddened opening.

you’re trying to squeeze him in but he’s just so fucking so big.

your mouth then starts to open wider, voluntarily growing agape and sweet harmonic babbles of moans only escape through. it’s like you’re singing almost, except but in a much more lewd way.

it feels warm—a scorching hot type of warm.

regardless, it feels good even with you trying to take his size. you don’t get far, the head of his dick was so wide that again, you’re in awing rhapsody. you’re trying to have your cunt envelop his heat— feel him bottom out inside of you yet abruptly out of nowhere, you start to gush out.

it happens randomly. you’re not prepared, he didn’t even make his way inside. barely just the tip and here you were squirting all down his length. the sudden orgasm that drags out your throat was so long, it was pretty and bounced off the thin walls of the bedroom. a shrilling moan rudely ripples out from your esophagus as you make a cute attempt at thrusting forward. even still, you were determined to ride him—but still, it was no use. nanami grows a bit flustered at how you collapse into his chest, rubbing your head against him. he pats your head, a soft smile returning to his lips. “s- shiiit,” you croak out, sucking against the tender skin of his collar bone. nanami’s holding you firm and steady, a hand soothingly caressing down your back. the simple gesture alone calms you down, albeit you’re still shaking on his lap. your hips rapidly stutter over him, and you’re still feeling various piles of rapturing nirvana send you into a complete, euphoric trance. “k- ken, fuuuck.”

“i know princess,” he kisses against your earlobe, your narrow slitting entrance just dying to be stuffed.

you’ve never been more soaked—out of all the times, you’ve never made this much of a mess. you never squirted before, and it was a mesmerizing feeling. your legs felt like mush, still shaking and your cunt’s still trying to get over itself— throbbing and pulsing to it’s beating content. concise minuscule tears of sweat race down the sides of nanami’s thinly arched brows. a hand of his then grabs a fair chunk of your ass, making you rock against him before he lowly whispers to soothe your zealous state. your fervent was through the roof— it was a feeling you couldn’t describe let alone put into words. all you knew was that you wanted to do that again. as you’re still twitching a bit, nanami chuckles, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” and a smile creeps onto his face the moment you bury your face into his neck.

oh, you’re embarrassed. you thought you could ride him but instead you barely even lasted a few seconds. nanami was quite compassionate though—he holds you close in his arms, pressing another kiss against your collarbone. “don’t be shy. i never minded a little mess anyway.”

at his lewd, filthy words—you’re whining. you wanted him so bad and you wanted more. you bring your desperate lips towards his face to kiss him and happily, he returns the favor. a tongue of his collides with yours before a hand of his gently wraps around your throat. with moving muscles tangoing together, swaying in harmony—his hands continue to wander every inch of your body. nanami likes to take in your curves, the very curvature of your pretty physique—each spot his fingers locates and reaches, it sends you continuous new shivers every time. pulling away after a while to breathe, nanami then makes you lie on your back again. as he’s hovering over you, he leans down to kiss near your tummy. “don’t worry, wifey,” he shushes in a loving tone—his eyes filling up with even more adoring tenderness for you. you were just so pretty like this, exposed and underneath him. your body was like art to him. “i got you,” he coos, and as he raises your leg slowly, creating a damp trail of kisses from your knee to your ankle, he aligns his cock against your drooling slit. “kento’s got you,” he repeats in a sweet purr. “now let your husband take it from here. lie back— yeah, atta girl.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

cw: +18 mdni, Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

[vmlnrzmp4]

hiii, I js wanted to send in a request if ur not busy or anything, but I wanna ask for the bllk dads!AU where the kids who r like 14 u could say, have their own insta acc which is set on private cuz even if they r children of football stars it’s much safer but anyways yeah, so I’d like to request where the kids r showing their parents like their story that they posted when they went out w their friends and like the parents (us and the character🤭) honestly like the kids’ aesthetic and like the kids reactions to that and they’re happy so ya

it’s also fine if u don’t wanna do it

ty

🫶🏽

a/n: hey darling! i altered your request a lil. hope you don't mind🫶🏼

itoshi sae

hardly active on instagram, the uninterested itoshi sae accidentally peeked into natsuki's account as they both sat on the couch. "what?" natsuki asks. "nothing," he shakes his head. natsuki only smiles at her old man, showing her account to him. later that day in the afternoon, sae and natsuki sat at the dinner table scrolling through their respective phones. "papa, your fans keep following me." "that's not a fan. it's me." "...what?" @/itoshisaeeee followed you. "what's with that username?" natsuki chuckles as sae says that rest other names were taken. natsuki then helps sae aesthetify his account and give him a better username.

itoshi rin

rin always kept up with sakura on her socials(not out of overprotectiveness)(...ok maybe just a little)she was an actress after all. but what surprised him was when he found out that sakura had a secret private account. and the worst part? "you...you two knew??" rin asks sternly to souta and shouma. the twins looked at each other, then at their papa sheepishly. "papa i know this is you." sakura says as she looks up from her phone when she gets a follow request from a blank account. to which, rin just responds with—"what are you talking about."

isagi yoichi

"no papa, you're not my friend. hence, i won't follow you back." papa yoichi who was pouting gasped. feeling so so betrayed. you just laughed, watching them bickering. "he's sulking." you whisper to yuki. "im not." he lies. "sure." you chuckle. "how is this fair??? you followed kaito! who's not your friend. he's your brother and yet you—" yoichi sighs, "y/n, tell her!" "sorry yo-chan. she's right." later yuki follows him so that grown ass man would stop sulking. she only had one post of when kaito was a baby. she's mostly active on stories and has a highlight of her friends(and kazuki). but she hid them from her papa.

michael kaiser

anne's account—both public and private were filled with her arts. the only thing was that her papa followed her on public but no matter how much he requested her from his fake account, she didn't accept. cause on her private acc, there were her personal favourite drawings(of her friends, you, michael—which all her papa was aware of. except where she would be making magnificent arts of alex.) he one day confronted her. she knew that fake account was her papa all along. "papa it's nothing." "if it's nothing then follow me back." "papa," anne sighs, "it's just my friends, ma, you and...yeah that it—" "it's alex, isn't it?" the silence that followed was loud, "i knew it," michael shakes his head, "im your papa. he's just some guy." "he's my boyfriend." "not for long if you don't let me in."

taglist: @anyaminz @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp @vellichorira @sapph1r3x @tamashithe2nd @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 [open]

[slut4msby]

first kiss. miya osamu x reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread & v rushed </3 also like quiet a lot of swearing (mainly just the use of the word 'shit')

+ a/n; day 6/7!! one more day to go before i go take a LONGGGG nap (i wish :<) but yeah this isn't the best written but here u go bc im on my osamu shit atm <3

“So you’re seriously telling me, THE Miya Osamu has never kissed anyone?” You teased the now embarrassed dark harder boy. “Like THE Miya Osamu, like brother to like the schools biggest flirt Miya Atsumu? What’s next your brother hasn’t either? I always knew the Miya twins were FULL of surprises but this, THIS is new.”

“Ew, I don’t wanna know who my brother is kissing and shit.” He said defensively.

“Why?” You questioned.

“Whaddya mean why? Because it’s weird he is like my brother I don’t wanna know what girls he’s snogging and sh-”

“No, I mean like why haven’t ya kissed anyone ‘Samu?” You cut his ramble off, “like I’m sure there's plenty of girls willing to, you have just as many fangirls as Atsumu, just his are louder and more annoying. And apart from that there’s no denying you're an attractive man. I mean you take care of yourself as well.”

“I-I don’t know, Y/N. What I do know is I don’t wanna kiss some fangirl or some shit, I want it to be with someone I care about I guess.”

“Awww 'Samu, that's so cute.” You gushed at his response.

“Shut it, Y/N.” 

As the conversation comes to halt the school bell rings, ending your first break of the day. “I’ll see ya later, ‘Samu. You smile walking down the hall to your class. You sit in your seat next to Osamu’s twin brother, Atsumu.

“Hey, Y/N-chan~” He says as you sit down.

“Hey ‘Tsumu? Ya know ‘Samu has never kissed anyone, like isn’t that just kinda bizarre. Like he’s funny, a good cook, handsome, good at sport ya know what more could a girl want? Like I know he’s seen women and shit but I dunno it’s just weird, I kinda feel bad.” You say towards Atsumu.

“If ya care so much Y/N, why don’t you just kiss him or something? I’m sure that’d shut him up. Ya both never shut up about each other, it’s kinda annoying.” 

“He talks about me?!” You say with a pink stain spreading across your face.

“Did ya hear what Y/N-chan said earlier, did you see Y/N-chan today, I think I’m gonna bring Y/N-chan some food tomorrow, Y/N-chan this, Y/N- chan that and every time I tell him to shut his trap.” Atsumu sighed, placing his head in his hands, “and yer not any better Y/N.”

“I don’t talk about him that much.” You say crossing your arms, frowning at Atsumu. Atsumu just rolled his eyes in response. Not long after your teacher began teaching her lesson, you couldn’t stop thinking about the twins' words. “If ya care so much Y/N, why don’t you just kiss him”  “to be with someone I care about I guess” “Ya both never shut up about each other”. There was certainly no denying your attraction to the silver haired twin. But in your years of knowing him, neither of you showed any romantic interest in each other. You had both seen a range of people, every breakup the same. Ending with one comforting the other, “they were such a dick anyway” or “I never really liked them to begin with.”

As the school day concluded, you decided to watch the volleyball teams practice. A common occurrence at this point.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” Suna said as he entered the gym, Osamu behind him. Osamu looked up to give you a smile, which you returned. No hey or hug like you were used to. There was something different about Osamu this time.

As you watched the boys practice, you would have some casual conversation with the team. Giggling and smiling, but never Osamu. It was always Osamu, but not since your conversation earlier.

Eventually Osamu was alone for the first time the whole practice, so you decided to confront him on his weird behaviour. “‘Samu?” You ask softly, his head poking up to look at you, “you’re acting weird, is everything okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Y/N. Just a little stressed, school and all that,” He mumbled softly before returning back to practise leaving you dumbfounded. 

“You know that’s not the reason right, Y/N?” Suna said from behind you. Causing you to look behind you, giving him a look of curiosity. “Apparently Atsumu sent him a message earlier, I dunno what it was exactly about but it was something about you that’s for sure.” After Suna finished speaking he grabbed his water bottle and walked away.

You couldn’t focus on the last part of their practices, instead you were left wondering from Suna’s words. As practice concluded, you could hear the Miya’s bickering as you began leaving before Osamu called out to you, “Y/N-chan!” You stop in your tracks turning to face the twin jogging towards you, “can we talk for a second, please?”

“Oh sure.”

You and Osamu walked in silence, an awkward silence in drastic contrast to the usual comfortable silence before reaching a private area.

“I uhm- about earlier I’m sorry for like acting weird…” he said fiddling with his fingers, “it’s just ‘Tsumu sent me a stupid text and It’s just like bothering me and-”

“Osamu.” You cut him off, looking at him in the face, “can I kiss you? I know you said you wanted it to be someone you care about-”

Your words were cut off as Osamu placed his hand on your chin, pulling you closer before your lips collided. The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a fusion of unspoken emotions and shared history. As you both pulled away, heat rising on both of your faces. Before Osamu let out a chuckle, “did ‘Tsumu get you too?”

“Mhm. Glad he did though.” You say wrapping your arms around, Osamu. 

“Fucking finally. You owe me some puddin’.” Atsumu said towards Suna, who just rolled his eyes in response.

©slut4msby.

[wisteriaiswriting]

awww yeahh thanks 4 dis awesum opportunity!!! hope this is good enough for ‘ya, plz take all the time you need <3

you already knowww i want that forsaken matchuppp 😋! my pronouns are they/them, i’m non-binary & attracted to men! personality wise i’m generally a pretty nice & sensitive person, i’m rlly empathetic and i luv to talk yap yap i don’t shut up i DO like to run my mouth very much! that means i’m rlly bad at keeping secrets oops. i’m kindaaa stubborn and a big over thinker but i try reallyyy hard not to be;;; i just wanna have fun and b chill ^^ but i am nooot afraid to confront someone when it needs 2 happen. hobby wise anything artsy! like graffiti. baking is sooo awesome and fun doing things with your hands is great. i love music a LOT (specifically rock/metal/alt) and enjoy going to concerts!! i’m also big on conspiracy theories & psychological philosophy :3 i generally like weird/creepy things, any sort of horror media! & being outside & doing stuff because i get bored easily. i don’t like silence and i don’t like it when things are too slow if u get what i mean! >_< i hate ppl who are mean to animals babies & old people they are a different kind of evil. also i get bored fairly quickly, i usually wanna always go do something, & i hate silence! i don’t even know if this matters but i’m an enfp 4w5, gemini!! as for love languages acts of service above all but i also adore words of affirmation!! i don’t care much for gift giving.… ummum that’s kinddd of ittt !!

again, thank you, & take care! 🫶🏻

I match you with...

Two time!

Lucky for you they also love to yap, so you two tend to bounce off each other. But when you spill any secrets with them I assure you the secrets are safe, unless the person crosses you.

Depending on the topic Two Time can be just as stubborn or a push over, but most of the time they tend to push back. They’ll notice any sign of over thinking from you, that's when they’ll stick by your side.

They aren’t the best when it comes to confronting others, they tend to just take whatever is said. But here you come taking charge, they do slowly become more confident overtime.

Loves seeing what you make, sits by you as you graffiti. Finds it funny though if you graffiti on the cabin, it’s always gone by the next round but they leave ominous hints to the others until they find it.

They never got the chance to bake before this but finds it great fun when doing it with you. Please don’t trust them with cutting anything, they can do the mixing of icing or anything else really. (Turns out they love brownies)

Oh how they also love weird/creepy things, but they don’t properly realise.

They’re fine to sit / do things in silence but if you don’t like it they’ll talk about anything they can think of.

Two Times main love language is also acts of service, if you want anything brought over to you, want something done (Or someone sacrificed…) they’re getting it done.

This also comes with words of affirmations, nearly all the time they are yapping to you.

Two Time - 5

Shedletsky - 4

Noob - 4

Chance - 4

007n7 - 2

Taph - 2

Mafioso - 2

[ysrjune]

Ok so u made this little story about Dallas Winston and yn but at the end she just leaves can you please make a part two Im begging

nah I'm good fam

jk LMFAO yes I can bb 💖 if anyone is wondering what this is a part 2 to---here's the link -> CLICK HERE.

Love of my life you've hurt me

I forgot I even have stuff about Dally on my account.. i need to start making mutuals that dont only write about hayden christensen or sw cause dayum. Also, I know Dally is like 17 and i think I accidentally made reader like 15.. ignore that. She's the same age as Dally.

The rest of that week, you didn't hear about Dally but you did about his gang. You saw them often as well. Going on your walks in the morning, you always saw a boy named ponyboy on his way to school. There was also another kid following him around and then waiting for him outside until the school day ended. His name is Johnny. Everyone knows Johnny and his unfortunate situation at home. You wanted to make him feel like he had other friends other than ponyboy and those other hoods, so on that Friday morning when pony went into the building, you walked up to Johnny.

Not to your surprise, he didn't really say anything. Nor did he even make eye contact. But you being you, you just kept talking. Soon enough over the next month--yes, month, he sort of became your friend. You would walk with him and pony in the mornings to school ever since you started high school again. Still, you hadn't seen Dallas, but ponyboy DID tell you about him.. not that you even asked, either. He just started talking about him. "Im pretty sure he only tolerates me cause of Johnny. Johnny's like his pet." The boy says. Johnny looks over to pony and scoffs. "I aint no pet of Dallys. He just.. we're just pals is all."

It was getting suspicious how much pony would talk about Dal. Had the older boy said something to him? The answer was definetly. During lunch, you sat with pony and confronted him. "Dallas said somethin' about me to you, didnt he, Michael?" Calling him ponyboy sort of icked you out. he said he didn't care at first and that you had to call him that like everyone else did, but once Johnny spilled the beans about his middle name, you wouldn't stop calling him Micahel, and the boy just had to learn to deal with it. "Uhm, yeah. Said you was friends back in the day. He aint around much so i thought that you might wanna know more about what ol' Dal has been up to since he don't even talk to you."

"Is he ignoring me on purpose?" You ask with no shame. Pony looks at you right in the eye and back at his lunch. "I dunno. He doesn't really talk about you." He shrugs. "Michael, you know something! Tell me!", "Would ya quit callin' me that?! My name is Ponyboy!" he knew it was no use to correct you for the hundreth time, but it was a habit by now. "No. Now tell me or I oughta shove you into my locker." You threaten. "Jesus, okay okay." Pony groans and shakes his head. "Don't tell anyone, and I mean ANYONE about this.. so.. he's.. he's scared to talk to you. He feels awkward, Doesn't know what to say to you. Thats all I know, though. i swear it. I overheard him talkin' with the other guys.", "So Johnny knows, then?", "Nah, he knows as much as I do.. I think. I dunno. You can ask him, but I don't think he'll rat on Dally to you. Or anyone at that." RRRIINNNGGG. Saved by the bell.. you'll get him later.

Saturday. You had the nuts to walk over to the Curtis house to get ponyboy. On your way there, Johnny saw you and ran up to you. "Hey, where you goin?" He asks with his hands jammed in his pockets. "Off to Michael's house. need to ask him something about.." You looked at Johnny. "Hold on, he said you know why Dallas won't talk to me." You stop walking and face Johnny. "Come on, John. You gotta tell me what he said! You and I are best friends, ain't we?" You touch his shoulder. "Woah. I dunno about all that." He raises an eyebrow. Jesus Christ, he was so sassy with you. He's gotten comfortable. Maybe cause you were usually so nice to him. "Please John? Please! I need to know! I haven't seen him since I moved here!", "Nuh-uh, no way! It can't be done. I told him I wouldnt tell you!", "So he knows you and I talk? Can you at least tell me what you say to him about me?" Johnny was starting to cringe a little bit. Why were you so desperate..

"Why do you care so much? he's just a guy!", "Cause he was my best friend, Johnny. Come on, please?" You ask nicely. Johnny groaned and gave in. "Fine, fine." He sighs and starts walking the opposite direction, assuming you'd follow. "The first time I ever mentioned you was, like.. a month ago? I just said that some random gal came up to me 'n started talkin' to me. He didn't ask much. Just what your name was, and when I told him, he didn't react like how maybe you'd hope he would. He shrugged it off and was like 'oh, okay." Johnny explains. "Uh.. anything else i've said is just about how you're real nice and I walk you and pony to school.", "Okay.." You replied. "Just let me in on one thing, alright? Just one more thing. Does he not wanna talk to me? Has he been ignoring you?", "Ignoring you?" Johnny snorts. "Yeah, sure. If being in the cooler is ignoring you, then yeah. Totally avoiding you."

Oh.. Dallas was arrested.. how didn't that come to mind? "How long has he been in there?" You ask. "Since a week after you moved here. He slashed some guys tires and then fought him."

TIMESKIP BECAUSE IM #LAZYAF

Johnny was walking around with Two-Bit and Dally. Dal and Two were sort of arguing about something, but it wasn't really serious. It was more like name calling each other. "Yeah? Well that's why you're a big ol' scaredy cat! Too scared to talk to a girl. thought you was a ladies man, Dal." It was so stupid. It shouldn't have bothered Dally as much as it did, but he couldnt help it. "Shut your damn mouth, I aint scared. I just.. got nothin' to say to the broad. 'S gonna be weird If I just stand there in front of her and stare like an idiot. If she wants to talk, she can come to me, but I don;t got nothing to say, so." He shrugs. Two-bit side-eyed Johnny. "Alright, man. I didn't need a whole explanation. You could have just called me a bastard." All of a sudden, the mickey mouse lover started laughing hard. "Man, you are a bastard." Dallas rolls his eyes and turns around for a minute, lighting a cig. "Hey, Jahnny, you wanna go see if--" Dallas turns back around, but Johnny wasn't there. Just Two laughing extra hard. "Where'd he go?" Dally asked. "Man, he booked it! You shoulda seen it. Funniest thing I ever seen!" He cracks up even more, gasping for air.

Banging was at your door. it startled you. "HEY! HEY I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! OPEN THE DOOR! CMON, NOW! BEFORE THEY SEE ME!" Johnny's voice called from the other side. Oh dear, was he in trouble? You ran to the door and opened it quickly and all of a sudden he was fine. "Hey, how are you?" He asks normally and slides in. "What? Johnny.. Why-- Why in the hell were you hollerin' like that?! Thought you was in some serious trouble, boy!", "Sorry, I just needed to get you to open the door." He shrugs. "So, I was with Dally and our other friend.. and they were making fun of each other. Guess what? Two took a jab at Dal for not talking to you and Dallas got offended by it." Johnny leans against your kitchen counter. "Meaning he's sensitive about the topic of little ol' you. I think he wants you to go up to him."

You go up to him? No way! He's the man! He should be the one to say something first. "No. If he wants to talk, he'll start the conversation. Awkward or not, it'd mean a lot to me if he would just man up and at least say hi." Johnny shrugs. "I don't know about all that." Oh God, there he goes with that line again. Lately, that's been his favorite thing to say. "Dal ain't like that. Confident with girls he actually likes." John clicks his tongue. "Oh well. You go on 'n figure it out yourself. I just thought I should tell you what he said." The 16 year old boy says and walks out of your house. Boys.. how annoying.

Not even an hour later, there were voices outside your bedroom window. It sounded like a bunch of guys.. and.. Michael and Johnny? What were they doing yelling outside? You open the curtains and see more boys than you expected. Two-bit Matthews, Steve Randle, Sodapop Curtis, Pony.. Michael Curtis, Johnny Cade.. and Dallas Winston. They were all pushing him towards your window and yelling at him to ask. Well, everyone except for Johnny. He was just smiling and standing next to Soda. But what? What did they want him to ask you?

"Don't be so shy about it now, Dal. You was just talkin' all that, sayin' this was gonna be a piece of cake." Steve nudges Dally. "I heard something about Cake?" Two-bit tunes back in. "You idiot. It was a metaphor!" Michael scolds Two. "Whats a metaphor?" Two raises an eyebrow like he always did. Everyone quiets down and slowly turns to Two. "My God, I was just joking around. I know what a metaphor is." He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Stop staring. I know im a handsome young fella, but we're s'possed to be focused on Dal and his ex lady friend." Everyone looked back at you and Dallas.

"Um.. what are y'all doing here." You managed to say. "We brang Dallas to you just like you wanted, little lady. Now say something." Steve replies. You give the boy a weird look and then return your gaze to Dallas. "Hi.." You say. Stupidly, everyone cheered and started hyping Dally up. Im gonna kill them. He thinks to himself. "Im comin' in, alright?" He tells you. "Alone." He turns back to his gang. And so he did. It was so damn weird. He was sitting on your bed, hunched over and looking down at the floor.

"So," you break the silence. "I heard you were in jail." Dally looks up at you and smirks. "Yeah. Not exactly a shocker. I'm always in there for something.", "Is that supposed to impress me? the whole bad boy act?", "Woah. I don't know about all that." Jesus Christ, so this is where Johnny got that dumb line from. "Nah, it wasn't to impress you. I was just telling you the truth. Even when I don't even do anything wrong, they'll still lock me up. Them cops don't like me, so they'll find any reason to throw me in jail." You nod and tap your foot on the floor. "That's nice, sweetheart." You tell him. Dally chuckles. "So what's been up with you, huh? Your boyfriend been calling you from across the country?", "No. We broke up. How did you even know I had a boyfriend?" You ask curiously. "Johnny tells me everything you tell him. Not like I even ask, but he just tells me." Of course he does.

"Dallas." You mutter his name after a moment of silence. "Why did you just leave like that? You left without telling me anything."

Dally sighs and rolls his eyes. "Look, it's not even that serious.", "Yes it is! I was worried! I thought you had died or something!", "Dramatic. Always been so dramatic, you." He groans. "I didn't have enough time, alright? I had to leave as soon as possible. Guys were after me. A whole group. I couldn't stay in New York.", "Why didn't you write?" Your eyes water. "I was poor. Any money I had, I had to use for food. My apologies for not wanting to stay hungry and write a letter instead." He gets sarcastic. "Man, I still couldn't write to you if I wanted to if you were still in New York. I don't know how to spell correctly. I wouldn't even know what to say. Hi, i'm not dead?" Dally scoffs. "Dallas, do you really think i'd care if you spelt a few things wrong? Who cares? Not me. I would have been happy to even see the 'Hi, i'm not dead' message.", "Yeah, right. You were better off without knowing anything else about me. Man, you're better off without me right now! I'm just trouble." He stands up from the bed.

"Where are you going?!" Your tears travel down your hot cheeks. "We aren't done with this conversation. Sit back down!" Your voice was shaky and breathy. "Yes we are. We're done, We been done." He snapped back. "So just like that? You're gonna leave me all over again." Dally stares you down. "Yeah. I guess I am. But this time I'll actually say goodbye." He mutters. "C'mere." He walks over to you and gives you a tight hug. "Listen to me when I say this. I ain't good for you. I ain't good for nobody. It's best you stay away from me. We can't be friends again. I ain't the twelve year old boy you used to like. I'm much worse." He whispers and kisses your head. "Im leaving now. Have a good afternoon." Dally says and finally leaves.

[woncheolisms]

was i meant to love you? (part two)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name, but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 3314

warnings: fem!reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, some non canon events, swearing, angst if you squint, atsumu x reader, cheating trope (you have been warned), suggestive sexual content but nothing explicit

taglist: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake

previous part // series masterlist

The thud of volleyballs and squeaking of shoes was quickly dissipating as members of the Inarizaki Boys’ Volleyball Team slowly cleared out of the gym. Everyone had done their share of cleaning, but your captain, Kita Shinsuke, was meticulous as ever, making sure the wet mops were clean so they didn’t stink up the storage room and all the balls were accounted for. As usual, he insisted you head out, saying it was already very late and he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of you still being out of the house at this time and in this weather.

The cold air stung you when you stepped out, choosing to forego changing back into your school uniform and instead walking home in your volleyball team tracksuit. Your wool scarf did plenty to warm you up, but it couldn’t substitute for the heat of your blankets or bed, so you hurriedly trudged on.

Your phone buzzed in your jacket pocket.

Samu: where are u? walk home together?

You frowned and sighed at the message. Osamu offering to walk you home meant Atumu would be there too. And you really didn’t want to be around him, not after your newly realized feelings. Or lack thereof, actually. You weren’t in the mood to once again be confronted by the fact that your soulmate didn’t make your heart burst with love like he should.

Your phone buzzed again, shaking you from your thoughts.

Samu: ur not at the gym?? its just kita here

You scowled, slowing to a stop. Where the hell was Osamu? You tapped on the little receiver icon, lifting the phone to your ear. Once the line connected, you heard his breaths on the other end.

“Why are you at the gym? You should’ve been home twenty minutes ago.” You asked, shivering. The twins had left after practice, knowing you often stayed late to tie up loose ends.

“I sat down at the store around the corner for a bit. I came back to check if ya were done. Where are ya?”

Before you could answer, heavy footsteps sounded behind you, making you cut the line when Osamu entered your field of vision. You felt your lips tug up, waving at him as he hung up and reached you, shoulders hunched to protect his neck from the cold.

“You’re gonna get sick.” You frowned as you watched him.

“Hello to you too.” He rolled his eyes and childishly stuck out his tongue, both of you falling in step as you trekked the way back to your neighborhood.

The walk was relatively silent, with Osamu offering you a packet of jelly beans. You popped one in your mouth, trying to rid yourself of the relief you felt when you saw that Atsumu wasn’t with him. It wasn’t something you were proud of, avoiding your own soulmate, but it helped that Atsumu was so focused on volleyball most days that he didn’t really care either.

You wondered if you should tell Osamu about it, but dismissed the thought quickly. Osamu didn’t even have a soulmate. If you complained about your own soulmate problems, it would make you feel like a monster.

Maybe you were a monster. An ungrateful one at that.

“Where’s Tsumu?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek. Your guilt had spurred your question, and all it did was double the horrible feeling inside you.

Osamu shrugged. “He didn’t wanna wait at the store. Somethin’ about wanting to pee real bad.”

“Charming.” You deadpanned, before frowning at the boy next to you. “Wait, you were waiting? What for? Me to be done?”

Osamu only nodded, focused a little too much on his jelly beans. Your scowled deepened as did your confusion.

“Why?”

Osamu shrugged, still avoiding your eyes. “It’s colder than usual. And with the wind blowing like this, it might rain or storm. What if ya got stuck in it?”

Your heart skipped, mouth going dry as words failed you. You watched Osamu’s profile, the way his gray hair fell over his forehead, some strands catching his eyelids. His profile was all straight lines, the jut of his jaw prominent as he chewed.

“Samu…”

Unexpectedly, tears were pricking at your eyes. You choked out a surprised sob, your feet stopping as months worth of suppressed emotions overwhelmed you.

“What the-” Osamu’s wide eyes snapped towards you, crushing the empty snack wrapper and shoving it into his backpack before he turned to you. “Why are ya cryin’? What did I say?”

You shook your head a bit harder than necessary, trying to convey that no part of your fucked up, guilt ridden, fearful brain was caused by him. You waved your hands a bit, trying to say anything at all that wasn’t pathetic crying noises. Osamu softened a bit.

“Is this about Tsumu?” His voice was more muted now, and you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the wind whooshing in your ears. You stared at him with wide eyes. Did…. he know?

Osamu gave you a sad smile and a shrug. “It’s pretty obvious. Yer avoidin’ him. Didja guys get in a fight?”

You shook your head, looking closely at Osamu. His face was blank, but open. He stared right back, and his eyes were so calm that it stopped your own flowing tears. Something in your mind was made up.

“Samu, can I confess something to you?”

He gave you an encouraging little smile. “Always.”

That did it. Your rant started there, on the sidewalk outside a closed down bookstore, and ended at your house, on your bed, both of you out of your outdoor wear and with steaming hot cocoa mugs between the two of you. Osamu had not only listened, but he had guided you all the way home while you lost yourself in your words. And he made you a hot beverage along the way too.

Silence stretched over you both when you finished, staring down at the mug before you. Your cheeks were warm, half from how heated you got as you spilled your heart out and half from being out of the stormy weather. Osamu had been smart to return to your house instead of his, so you could talk without fear of Atsumu listening. You stared at him when you finished, but when he didn’t say anything, you tacked on one more sentence.

“I don’t know what to do.”

The cry for help was clear in your voice, and it made him look up at you.

“I…. don’t know that either.” He confessed. “I wish I could tell you.”

He shuffled a bit closer to you, directly in front of you, and gave you the softest smile. Your heart skipped again, that same funny feeling you got when he told you he waited for you. And you felt, once more, the urge to hug him tight.

“I don’t….. really know how this soulmate thing goes.” He muttered, and you listened with bated breath. For the first time ever, Osamu was talking about his own lack of soulmate. “But I do know one thing. You and Tsumu have known each other forever. Whatever this thing is, it will pass. And the universe put ya two together, of course yer meant ta be. Don’t worry yer little head about it, okay?”

You felt your heart settle as you looked into Osamu’s eyes. So calm, so unlike your muddled thoughts. But his words inspired little comfort, but in his close proximity, you ignored it entirely. Your cheeks heated up, and you felt the urge to close the gap between you two even more. So you did.

Osamu wrapped you up in his arms when you pressed closer to him, not hesitating in hugging you tight. You felt your heart race faster, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it made your nerves quietly buzz, a soft thrumming that felt so nice you nearly cried.

You didn’t even realize when you fell asleep, too exhausted from having spilled your whole heart out. So you definitely didn’t notice the wet sheen in Osamu’s eyes, or how he rapidly blinked his tears away to make sure they didn’t fall on you, his hold on your body gently tightening.

………………

Something changed after that night. Somehow, Osamu being the only one who knew your shameful secret brought you even closer together. While you didn’t talk about it again, Osamu subtly encouraged you to get closer to Atsumu, to spend more time with him and “mend” your failing relationship. To Atsumu’s credit, you two did end up spending an awesome night out together, which could technically be classified as a date but felt more like hanging out with your best friend. You giggled and laughed with him all night, like you used to, and some of the fear in your head melted away. Maybe Osamu was right. Maybe everything would be okay.

When Atsumu kissed you goodnight at your front door, you didn’t feel anything. But you weren’t worried. This would fix itself too. Just as everything else had fixed itself.

You entered your third year of high school with your boyfriend and best friend by your side, ready to crush senior year and then move onto adult life. Atsumu went to Youth Camp again, now being seriously looked at as a candidate for the pro leagues. You were ecstatic for him, and you trusted completely that he would crush it. Osamu was looking into culinary school, and you were looking into university as well in your own preferred field.

Graduation was an emotional affair, especially with the realization that you were splitting up from the Twins soon. You had been accepted into a university in Tokyo, while Osamu was staying in Hyogo. Atsumu was already trying out for the V League, and it had him bouncing from place to place.

Your mother was vehemently against you and Atsumu not staying together, which annoyed you. The idea of staying glued to his ass was not appealing. You wanted to carve your own path. It was only when you convinced your mother that Atsumu’s endless traveling would have him in Tokyo quite often did she feel satisfied enough, and so life as an adult began filled with a promise for new adventures.

It was away at university that you first experienced just how much you depended on the Twins. Especially Osamu.

Emotionally, Osamu had been your rock. He was always the one you went to with every rant, every problem, every worry. While Atsumu was helpful at times too, he was more of a talker than a listener. But Osamu always gave you his full attention. He would sit and listen to you for hours if you asked, chiming in at all the right places and really making you feel heard. When you started life at a new place, you were hit with the nasty, all encompassing feeling of missing him down to your very bones.

You texted him, you video called, you watched as the gray dye slowly faded from his hair, leaving him with his natural dark brown. He talked to you about culinary school, excited to share what new dish or flavor he had learned or created, and you watched as his face fleshed out more, losing almost all his remaining childhood fat and leaving him looking older. You supposed you changed in the same way, but Osamu never commented on it. He always talked to you the same, like you had never left.

You missed him terribly.

Your university friends were overly in awe that your soulmate was a pro volleyball player, and often thought you were on the phone with him when it was actually Osamu. It did hit you with a pang of guilt slightly, because while you also talked to Atsumu daily, it was never very long drawn out like it was with Osamu. You knew everything going on in his life, but you weren’t invested like you were in Osamu’s life.

And that little skip of your heartbeat never went away. In fact, it became more frequent. Whenever Osamu’s voice would first ring through your phone, your heart would jump, and your smile was automatic. His laugh would make you grin, and talking to him settled your nerves in a way no other person could.

It didn’t surprise you when a certain worry started sitting in your chest. A gnawing voice, low pitched but annoying, muttering in your head about how this was wrong, you should be feeling this way for your soulmate and not his fucking twin brother. You weren’t dense. You knew what a crush was. And you knew that these feelings were definitely indicating a crush. But you dismissed it as just Osamu being Atsumu’s twin. They were identical looking. So it was natural for you to like Osamu because he was so closely reminding you of your soulmate.

You tried to ignore the fact that your actual soulmate never made you feel this way.

Atsumu visited you often, maybe one weekend every month, which he would spend in your apartment. Your roommates would wiggle their eyebrows and make lewd, suggestive comments, saying something about how they should clear out for the weekend since you two would be getting loud and rowdy. It made you flush furiously, but you couldn’t exactly tell them nothing would happen.

You and Atsumu had yet to go all the way. The most you did was a makeout session that felt cold and distant. It was worrisome, it was a huge concern, but it was something neither of you talked about. You were comfortable with Atsumu. You would pig out on junk food, talk shit about old high school folks you both knew, he would whine about his teammates and you would fill him up on your share of university gossip, and then you two would fall asleep cuddled under your blankets. It was comforting, a slice of home, and so what if the thought of sex with Atsumu made you kind of uncomfortable and grossed out? It would pass. You were still young.

But then you would feel the butterflies burst to life in your stomach when Osamu called, you would watch his eyes through your phone screen, how every passing month made him look more like a man and less like a boy. His dark eyes, just as calm as they were when you were kids, but now….. sultrier. More dreamy. Sometimes he would send you a morning selfie, still in bed, just above the neck but you could tell he was shirtless, and you would imagine waking up like that, with his shirtless body next to you. And you would wonder what his skin would feel like under your fingertips.

This was bad. This was so, so bad. But you couldn’t control it. All you could do was deny the existence of these feelings. Waking up every morning and convincing yourself that the man in your dreams was not him, but Atsumu. Though you knew. Deep down, you knew.

You didn’t go back to Hyogo after your first year. Your parents had traveled down to Tokyo and you spent a wonderful two weeks with them before the new term started, and while Osamu groaned and complained about how bad he wanted to see you, you were relieved. You couldn’t see him, not when your head was messed up with thoughts of him. Thoughts you should never, ever have. You wondered, now very often, what you would do if you saw him in your current state. How badly you would want to kiss him.

No. God. No.

Once Atsumu became a starter for the MSBY Black Jackals, he and Osamu decided to get an apartment together in Osaka, the team’s hometown. Osamu had freshly graduated, while you still had one year left. And as per her nature, your mother started hounding you to complete your final year in Osaka. She wanted you to move in with the Twins, and for the first time in a long time, you were on board with one of her wishes.

You had missed them both so much. And you yearned for the time you spent every single day with them. The thought of sharing a living space with them was extremely exciting, so when you ironed out the details of your university transfer, you were on the first train to Osaka.

Halfway through your ride, Atsumu texted that he couldn’t make it to the station (since your train had been delayed and he had an event for later that night), and you tried to digest the implication of his untimely absence.

Osamu would be picking you up.

You felt anxiety creep up on you at the thought, fiddling with your hands and biting severely at your bottom lip. Shockingly, you had not seen Osamu since graduation. Your parents had moved to Tokyo after your first term, since nothing was holding them in Hyogo anymore, so you spent your breaks with them. And between Osamu opening his own Onigiri Place and working on his uni courses, he never got the time to come down and visit you.

Fresh in your twenties, you were a different person now. Tokyo had truly changed you, given you new experiences, new friends, new opportunities. For a brief second, you worried how your reunion with Osamu would go. You two had talked nearly every day for three years, but surely seeing him in person would be different, right?

You were right.

You found him standing next to a pillar in the crowded station, trying to stay out of everybody’s way. It wasn’t hard to spot him, since he was so tall. He had grown, which was a given. You should’ve known, because Atsumu had grown too. But you didn’t expect it. And you also didn’t expect him to have…. bulked up so much.

You knew he hadn’t really played volleyball after high school, so he had decided to start going to a gym instead. Your mouth went dry as you saw the results of it now. Osamu was wearing a tight compression shirt that hugged him in all the right places, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, down to his slim waist. His hair, now dark, looked softer than ever before, and you felt the urge to feel it between your fingers. His focus was on his phone screen, so he didn’t notice your distant gawking. God, he was…. a specimen. Was he always like this? Had you never noticed?

You felt your knees wobble like a baby deer as you walked closer to him, watching as he finally looked up and his eyes met yours. Something zipped through you like hot current, and you felt your ears buzz.

“Hi.” You sounded breathless.

“Hey.” He replied, and you saw, in real time, his eyes run over you from head to toe, before quickly snapping back up to your face. You saw his ears warm at the thought of you catching him as he looked you over, and you felt something liquid hot churn in your stomach.

When you hugged him, you experienced the true change in his strength. His arms were steady, torso firm but warm, and he smelled so good. You shivered when you felt his face find home in the crook of your neck, and you feared he would feel your heart as it jumped around frantically in your chest, trying to beat out of your ribcage.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, and you were met up close with the wonderful, calm slate gray. You watched as his lips tilted up at the corners, as his cheeks twitched with that same, lazy smile.

“Missed ya.” He whispered.

“I-” Your eyes flickered, and you finally gave into your overwhelming urge, leaning forward only a few inches so your lips pressed firmly against his.

[fawnsprings]

hii, how are you?? i've got a req for you to write! (the explanation is a little long please bare with me) anyways to sum it up, its kinda based of the song casual by doja cat. if you dont really the idea i think you'll kinda get it once you listen to the song, (and im not really good at writing) but to sum it up, reader and chris have got a situationship, or like their just casually hooking up w/ eachother (i dont know what the label is 😭😭) but they act like lovebirds tg, like im talking cuddling when their watching a movie w the boys, getting eachother gifts, ALL that mushy cute shit.. chris realizes that he's inlove w/ reader, and y'know how hes like afraid of commitment and proper relationships? so instead of telling her that he is, he avoids her for like 2 days,and tries to fuck with someone else to forget about her for a bit. when she comes into the house to hangout with nick, she hears him fucking another chick, and she gets JEALOUSS let me tell you. she pulls that poor girl out of the room, telling her to get dressed and when the girl leaves she starts going off at chris (gettin a lil angsty). but like the whole point of me wanting it to be based off the song was kind of so that you could realize it was based off the song, so maybe u can add lyrics! (idk, just a thought) "if you is a player, i dont think ima play with ya" , "if you wanna lay with her, why don't you just stay with her?". he tries to deflect, and i guess reader kind of confronts him about how she thinks he wants more then hooking up and he denies it, but she knows hes lyin. "you say you don't want a girlfriend but when we are in person, you always act so different, you make it all seem perfect", "you hold me when we wake up, say you like me with no makeup", "is it casual, or are you tryna spend your life with me?". anyways in my lovely optimistic mind, reader tells him its ok because shes inlove w him too, and he finally doesn't deny it. she tells him shes scared too, but they'll go through it together cuz their in luvv 😛 anyways lets just say the night ends with some slow soft sex between reader and chris. "take it off, follow me out, let me in don't shut me out" i understand if you can't do this req, but i saw your post saying you needed reqs to write on a trip tmr, and i thought of this on the spot so sorry if its really shit 😭

ꨄ ⌒ ⋆｡ ˚ CASUAL

│⊹ warnings ⋆ ;; angst if u squint, y/n is used like twice sorryyy, p in v, pet names (baby nd mama), unprotected sex, lowercase intentional, and word count is 2.2k

│⊹ pairing ⋆ ;; chris sturniolo x fem!reader

│⊹ haven’s notes ⋆ ;; hey.. how y’all doin 😙.. sorry for being gone AGAIN i keep having writers block but i wrote smth for my script so i got motivation to write again 🤌

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you have been waiting impatiently at the triplets front door for about five minutes now. finally, chris opened it for you. “took you long enough.” you scoff with a smile as you walk in. “sorry, matt almost started a fire.” the brunette boy replied, scratching his chin when closing the door.

“what?” you laugh while kicking off your shoes and leaving them on the shoe rack. "oh by the way, i got the shirt you were planning to buy." you giggle softly, handing him a bag. "oh shit! thank you!" he says excitedly as he pulls you in for a warm hug. "of course, c." you give him a toothy smile. you notice how his facial expression changes a little bit once you smiled but you brushed it off. the two you walk up the stairs into the living room and kitchen. you saw both matt and nick try to cook dinner or something. “matt! your gonna burn it’!” nick exclaimed before turning to see you.

“what are you guys even making?” you snicker as you walked up to nick to give him a small hug. “burgers but matt almost started a fire trying to grill the meat.” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “let me help” you say, walking to the stove and shooing matt away. “but at least i didn’t, i wont do it again!” he stated while crossing his arms. “matt relax, i got this” you say while flipping the patty. the boys talk for a while and from time to time offer to help but your stubbornness always said no.

chris left an argument that he was talking about with his brothers and waddled over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “you sure you don’t need any help?” he asked which you reply with a nod. once you finally finished making the food, you plated them nicely on the table. “bon appetite!” you laugh while sitting down next to chris.

the four of you eat while talking about a random topic or plans of what to do for the following week. “do you guys wanna watch something?” matt offered when he finished eating. “im down” you reply and the two others agree as well.

now, nick is currently putting the dishes in the sink as you, matt, and chris are all sitting down on the couch to debate what to watch. “nah i don’t wanna watch a horror movie.” chris whined when you suggested for them to see one. “ugh fine, maybe batman again?” matt quickly agrees, of course.

chris had been laying down on your chest for about an hour or so into the movie. your hands rested on the back of his head, your fingers scratching his scalp gently from time to time and he let out small hums whenever you did. after a few minutes you desperately needed to go use the bathroom. "chris" you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. "hm?" he hummed while looking up at you. "gotta piss, get up" you state as he slowly got up from your chest.

after you did your necessities, you walked back to the living room and sat down next to chris. only this time he patted his chest, signaling you to lay down on it. of course, you don't mind since you and chris were always so touchy so you did. while watching the last 30 minutes or so of the movie, you heard his heartbeat start pounding against his chest rapidly. mentally, you started to count each one. and you did this till the movie ended.

"thanks for coming over!" nick said to you as the triplets started to walk you downstairs. "of course! i love hanging out with you guys." you reply, looking at each of the small smiles on their faces but except for chris. he looked rather stressed and confused. instead of saying anything about it, you simply just brushed it off. you said goodbye to the three boys then left.

it had been two days since you heard anything from chris. you asked nick and matt about him and they both said that he was okay and didn't know what was wrong with him. you began to get worried, scared if it was something you did or said. so, to clear your head you decided to invite nick to the mall since it was somewhere you guys both enjoyed going together. you got to the familiar entrance of the sturniolo home, quickly seeing an excited smile from nick as soon as you knocked on the door. "hey! you ready?" you ask while pulling him into a small hug.

"yeah! let me just go grab my things real quick." the brunette boy said as he let you inside. you didn't bother taking off your shoes since you two were about to leave. upon walking up the stairs you saw matt's face that was mixed with discomfort and trying not to laugh. "what?" you and nick ask him. "whatever you do, don't go downstairs." he mumbled while grabbing something from the fridge then walking back to his room. you give nick a look, he gives you one back that obviously meant to go see what matt was talking about.

hesitantly, you leave your bag on the couch and then walk downstairs to chris' room while nick grabs his things. upon being about three steps down, your ears immediately fill up with moans. both chris', and someone else's. another girl. your cheeks get red as your feet think before your mind and now you're in front of his door. with no hesitation, you grab the knob and swing open the door. as soon as you did so, chris looked back quickly. your eyes observed what was going on. you saw the mystery girl completely blissed out with her face dug inside a pillow and completely naked. you saw chris' hands wrapped around her hips firmly and how his front pieces of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. "what the fuck chris?"

you feel your cheeks burning up in frustration as you watch chris struggle to put his pants back on. "dude! get out!" he said while the blonde girl turned around and saw you at the doorway, quickly blushing out of embarrassment. "no, you get out!" you tell the girl in his bed loudly, her getting up as soon as you said anything towards her. you and chris make heavy eye contact as she got changed and got her things.

she closed the door upon leaving and you immediately start bashing chris. "chris what the fuck is wrong with you? you ignore me for two days and I find you fucking another chick?" you argue as he quickly tries to find something to say. "you can't just hook up with me casually then ignore me then hook up with someone else." your sigh is shakey, trying not to start crying in front of him. "I feel bad for her even because you're probably just gonna ignore her and then hook up with some-" you were finally cut off by chris.

"why are you arguing about this like we are more than friends y/n?" he argues back, taking a breath to continue. "you're saying this shit like we are together, we aren't anything but friends." the brunette boy said while crossing his arms. "friends that hook up almost every week?" you laugh sarcastically, you process what he said for another few seconds. "don't act like I don't know about how your heart was racing when i was layin' down on your chest the last time i came over." you note. "is we hooking up something casual for you or are you looking to spend your life with me?" your voice is unstable and shakey, biting back the tears coming up on your waterline.

"fine, i'll admit, y/n." he finally said, his voice evenly shakey as yours. "I realized that i'm in love with you that night. you know im scared of commitment. i ignored you 'nd hooked up with another girl to try to get over you." chris sighed and his eyes softening. "im scared of being in a relationship, you have seen what my fans say even if im standing next to a girl—" you cut him off by walking towards him and shutting him up with a soft kiss. you can tell he is surprised when he hesitated to place his hands on you. “im in love with you too chris, and i am scared too.” you say softly as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“but you know we can work it out together.” you sigh while your eyes look up into his. chris’ hands planted on your waist, rubbing small circles on them. “you think so?” he whispered. you nod in reply, pulling him into another kiss. “‘m sorry.” he whispered again, desperately kissing you like his life depended on it. you start to tug on the hem of his black tank top and backed up a little bit so he could notice that your trying to take it off. he pulled it over his head himself and quickly went back for a kiss. he turns you so your back is facing the bed and he guided you to it. you lay back on his bed and he quickly reaches to the waist band of your shorts. “can i take these off?” he asked with his tone laced with need. you nod eagerly, him taking not another second to pull them down. he then went to your shoes, untying both laces and placing them on the floor.

you watched in awe as he touched your body so gently. he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, his tongue grazing against yours lightly. he backed up with a smile, and looked into your eyes for a few seconds. with one hand, he went down in between your thighs and hooked his fingers on your panties and pushed them to the side, with the other hand pulling down his shorts.

he held onto your hip while he slowly slid himself inside of you, both of you letting a little hiss. his thrusts are slow but firm and his grip on your hip was light. you whimpering softly and let your body relax as his hips moved in and out of you. chris grabbed your leg and hooked it around his torso, being able to plunge deeper inside of you. “fuck, such a good girl f’me.” he panted with a little smile on his face. you whine back in reply, completely blissed in ecstasy and pleasure. his hips rutted a bit faster inside your puffy cunt as it suctioned his cock. “fuck, feels so good.” you sigh while leaning your head back into the pillow. “yeah? m’cock feels good mama?” he groaned quietly, you nod weakly.

you let out a small moan when his tip grazed that sticky patch inside of you. you arch your back off the bed as the knot in your stomach began to tighten. “‘m so close-“ you gasp gently while the brunette boy started to drill deeper inside of you. “mhm, gonna cum for me baby?” he whispered gently as his thumb went down and rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, this just sending you over the edge. “fuck! do-dont stop please please” you whine as your mouth fell agape. the knot in your stomach slowly started coming undone from his thrusts. “‘m cumming!” a small squeak left your lips. “shit, im right behind ya’” he whimpered as his hips remained the same pace. your stomach muscles clenched together as you came on his cock, then you felt him fill you up with his lukewarm cum. he fucked both of you through each other’s high before he stopped.

“you okay?” chris hummed while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. you nod shyly while attempting to sit up. “i should go then, nick is probably waiting for me.” you chuckle a bit, whining quietly as chris pulled out of your pussy. “alright, i’ll still see you today then?” he asked as he helped you clean up and change. you hum in reply, standing up and wobbling a little bit. he put his boxers and shorts back on before turning back to you. “drive safe.” he smiled, pulling you in for a little kiss. “i know, see you later chris.” you smile back. you left his room with him behind you, your shoes in his hands.

upon going up the stairs you saw nick with his headphones on, thankfully. “ready to go?” he asked, his tone annoyed since you took so long. you nod with a laugh as you grab your bag and shoes from chris. “i’ll put them on in the car.” you say while you both start walking downstairs.

“what took you so long by the way?” the brunette boy asked when putting his headphones in his tote bag. “sorry, something happened with chris and i had to help” you lie terribly. nick could tell in your eyes that you were lying. “you fucked him didn’t you?” “nick!”

│⊹ haven's notes part two ⋆ ;; IM FINALLY DONE !!!!1

│⊹ taglist ⋆ ;; @deftonesmatt @mattsluttywaist @luverboychris @sturniol0s @mattscoquette @xoxo4chrisss @sweetstars-posts @bambi-slxt

[keeksandgigz]

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you. 

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working. 

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?” 

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain. 

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble. 

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte. 

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot. 

“I was just joking, dickhead” 

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery. 

Fuck. No white dot. 

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee. 

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure. 

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white. 

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you. 

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry. 

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second. 

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry. 

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell. 

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting. 

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor. 

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious” 

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile. 

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip. 

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close. 

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses. 

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done. 

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak” 

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way. 

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found. 

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home” 

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you. 

He was supposed to be on the schedule. 

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs. 

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato. 

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit. 

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7. 

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on. 

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie. 

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like  high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen. 

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans. 

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps. 

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-” 

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls. 

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately. 

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist. 

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere. 

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts. 

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you. 

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time. 

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message. 

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you? 

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp. 

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say,  barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles. 

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up. 

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

[halfbaked00q]

For the Bond goes to Q's night club and does bdsm badly [tags: bdsm, s/D AU, subspace]:

I sometimes indulge in reading the s/D alternate universe fics. I'm sure they are super problematic; subs sort of have to go into subspace regularly to be healty and yada yada. So all of this is, ya, know. Not how it works irl. Don't take sex-ed from fics kids, but here's a thing, yeah? Cause I like you sprinkling up my dash with wild little 00q ingredients, and so I baked some trashcan cake for you:

He's hanging from the cross in one of the private rooms. Q has just managed to clear everyone out and is now standing here studying Bond and his disconcertingly back-to-normal breathing pattern. He can look his fill for once; Bond's eyes are closed.

His mind is still buzzing from the confrontation with the other Dom. From the way his thoughts had screeched to a halt when he recognized exactly who was at the cross.

He's come to some rapid realizations, the major one being that Bond is, in fact, a sub. All those times he's donned that macho agent persona have somehow been an act.

It boils Q's blood to know that--

To know what exactly? It shouldn't change anything. 007 is one of MI6's most competent agents; his denomination doesn't change that. Of course not. It makes it more impressive, probably.

But as Q watches the tightly controled way Bond counts each breath, his eyes tightly shut, inches from subspace but unable to quite reach it, he can't help but burn.

Bond must have been so fucking desperate to seek it out like this. He shoudln't have had to. Q should have figured it out. He should have stepped in. Should have known.

There's always been something there. The way Bond--James, really--would sometimes look all washed out, eyes snapping to Q as soon as he entered the room no matter how tired he was. The way he'd buckle against orders, but then relent beautifully when Q laced his voice with command just so. The way Q hadn't been able to stop himself from watching him, even knowing--wrongly, it turns out--that they were incompatible.

Standing here, now, Q feels like he's been cored out by a lightning strike. His insides burn with the realization, with how possessive he feels, how much he needs to be the one taking care of him. To make this right.

All in due time, though. First he's going to take care of this mess. Then there will be time to take them somewhere more private (home). To give Bond care and safety and what he really needs. Q is going to make that happen even if he has to bend the whole of reality to his will, he knows this the way he knows he could take apart nations. He's going to get what he wants and there will be nothing standing in his way.

He takes a breath and centers himself. He can do this.

"James," he says, the name feeling oh-so-right on his lips, "Open your eyes for me."

HELLO. HI. HELLO.

and yea just to repeat what I said before- anon if bdsm aus are bad then I dont wanna be right dot meme. I love bdsm aus and like. cmon are they any more ""problematic"" so-called than, like, A/B/O, or like what ppl have turned Sentinel/Guide AUs into (like the ones where there's an invented society where guides are systematically oppressed dare I say, even, rather like trafficked or enslaved?) etc etc

but um 😳😳😳😳😳 the fact that u took the concept & made it a BDSM AU.... and Bond is a sub that no one knew is a sub, and the way it being BDSM adds an Edge to the "needs the relief of subspace but Can't so seeking like a brute-force override via an excess of pain"....... ough ough ough. i feel like im chewing on a live wire zzzzzzzzztttt. kisses on the moutb for you too mwa mwa ough ough woof

[imhershei]

HEYELPPPP!! Yall I need help finding these BOMB ABSOLUTELY FIRE JUICY ASS fanfics? books? Stories? ykwim. cz i literally cannot find them anywhere and ive been on my knees scouring trying. But thing is I read these stories like so freakin long ago so there is a possibility that they got deleted somehow but im delusional and feel as tho tht THREE art pieces js disappear without anyone's knowledge. So I have been left with no choice but to ask for help from yall. Nd so its 3 different fics. 2 abt sub spencer reid and 1 abt Thomas from Maze Runner.

1st Fic: This fic was a Spencer Reid x reader story where reader and spencer were like in a friends with benefits situation?? Where the reader was like strict and made all these rules for them so they could sneak around to avoid getting caught by the rest of the team and one of the rules was like they cant sleep in the same bed so after a hook up no matter how tired they were or how bad they wanted to cuddle each other the reader would make one of them leave. And so one day spencer loses it and kinda confronts reader abt it and he was on the verge of tears i think?being all subby nd shii cz he fell in love and wanted to cuddle ( I LUH DAT LIL CRYBABY HO!😫) but the reader ws all like "nah" or sum shii nd honestly i cant remember how it ended im pretty sure it ended good but I PROMISE YOU THAT SHII WS FIRE AND IF I REMEMBERED THE BOOK OR THE AUTHOR I WOULD 100% RECOMMEND TS!!!

2nd Fic: So this fic was another Spencer x Reader where the team was like at a bar or it coulda been a halloween party???????? i cant fawkn remember sorry yall 🥲 but they were OH HONESTLY THIS ONE COULD BE TWO SEPARATE BOOKS HIGHKEY??? I THINK IT WAS ONE BOOK WHERE THEY WERE AT A BAR AND DEREK WAS LIKE "ohh i dont kiss after head bla bla bla macho shii" AND EVB ELSE WAS SHOCKED OR SUM SHII ND THEY WENT AROUND THE TABLE TILL IT GOT TO SPENCER AND HE WAS ALL EMBARRASSED CZ HE NEVER GOT HEAD BEFORE (I VOLUNTEER FOR TRIBUTE) AND SO READER "oh ill give ya head" (LUCKY SLUT!) AND HE WAS ALL EMBARRASSED AND SHII ND WS LIKE "okay" AND SHE GIVES HIM THAT GLUCK GOODNESS AND HE JS WHIMPERIN ND MOANIN LIKE A LIL BITCH AND AFTERWARDS HE GIVES HER A FAT ASS SMOOCH AND THEN THE OTHER FIC WAS THE SAME CONCEPT I THINK BUT IT WAS AT A HALLOWEEN PARTY!! SO I LIED AND THERES 4 FICS I NEED HELP FINDING!!!!!

3rd Fic: Okay now THIS fic however is a Thomas tmr x reader and im pretty sure it had multiple parts??? i cannot remember but i js remember it being long and juicy and perfect. So it takes place in the third movie where i cannot remember for the shit of me. Either reader was captured or no it wouldnt make sense if she wasnt captured but her nd minho got captured so yk ha man Thomas has to go rescue her but they get to the helicopter part where thomas got shot and teresa uglahh holdin onto him but ig thomas hallucinated she was us????? so they ended up kissing??? Like da furq? but we see ts and yk we finna start tweakin or wtv but yk the building finna come down and they get thomas on the ship where he pass out and teresa was finna get on but yall kno again the building in the middle of collaspin so reader being a WAYYYY Y BETTER BITCH THAN ME tries to save her but teresa dies anyways and reader is all traumatized nd shii and tht goes on for like the whole book so we get to the safe haven and we have our own lil shack or wtv cz we keep getting nightmares and sum shii nd the boys have to keep watch over us - mind u thomas been knocked out this whole time so he dont even realize how bad he needs his ass whooped - we trying to recover or wtv but eventually thomas wakes up and is looking for us or wtv the others dont wanna tell him abt us or wtv he finds out abt us, we dont wanna see him due to obvious reasons. And yall know thomas is stubborn so he keeps coming back for us, trying to win our trust, even going as far as sleeping outside our door and repairing our things. nd weird take nd idk if this matters but it had a ocean blue vibe to it man idk. But anyways i definitely do remember that this book has a good ending and the whole thing is beautiful nd shii.

But i alr kno by my fantastic description 🌚 (Ik ts ws ass leemelone) tht yall wanna go and read em for yall selvess🌝 nd all i ask is that if yall find em or atl know what happened to em js come back nd lmk so i can be put to rest please and thank ya 🙏🏾nd also if theres a way to save them??? Like yk how tiktok has favorites and u can organize em?? Sumn like that anyways thats all! Until we meet again!! drink water, stack paper, & stay super freakyyy💋🚶🏾‍♀️

[ferrocyan]

ffxiv write day 29 - sally

(uhh silly chatfic for today? i'll try to do more later haha)

blackcat_tritailstraining: lmao so listen the best thing ever just happened rn

honey💗b💗lovely: hi to you too black cat 🐝💕

honey💗b💗lovely: oh eugh is this about your partner. no thanks

blackcat_tritailstraining: no you wanna hear this. brute bomber is here to confront tart

blackcat_tritailstraining: apparently when he broke into the ceremony to soulshift and tart almost kicked him on the head he like. got his hand broken lol

honey💗b💗lovely: really! the cameras must not have caught it 🫢

honey💗b💗lovely: ooohhh poor guy 🥲💕 we do weep for our darling bomber

blackcat_tritailstraining: damn right. and you know whos weeping

blackcat_tritailstraining: tart is like laughing so hard at the guy hes crying lol

blackcat_tritailstraining: he fell off the chair. just on the floor curled up losing his shit

blackcat_tritailstraining: hes not even laughing now hes just screaming

blackcat_tritailstraining: lmaoooo

honey💗b💗lovely: oh my 🫣 well aren't they a perfect match for each other 🤭

blackcat_tritailstraining: RIGHT LOL EXACTLY ASSHOLE4ASSHOLE

blackcat_tritailstraining: feel a liiil bad for bomber but tbh this is funny as fuck

blackcat_tritailstraining: like man you know souleater can beat your ass already why challenge him again

blackcat_tritailstraining: oh u didnt see it right. tart cancelled brute bombers transformation and then he went cackling like YOU DIDNT THINK ID JUST LET YOU DO THAT DID YA?

blackcat_tritailstraining: like ok true. theyre not in the ring so he could def interfere as he liked lol. see thats why bombers stupid right there

honey💗b💗lovely: hmm and if i may be so bold, transformation isn't affected by the user's state in the first place. i wouldn't encourage rule-breaking of course but bomber could have just powered through

blackcat_tritailstraining: NO THE FUCK IT IS?

blackcat_tritailstraining: your wasps just built different bitch it can heal you and shit. dont ever spread misinformation like that ur an influencer ffs

honey💗b💗lovely: excuse you, i am a honeybee 🐝💗

honey💗b💗lovely: anyway, interesting how a newcomer who doesn't use a regulator knows how to cancel a feral soul transformation, hmm? 🤔 doesn't it make you think about what i told you before 🤫 and how brilliant and correct i am 🥰

blackcat_tritailstraining: tart just tried to say "ok im sorry" and he cant even make it he lost it again

blackcat_tritailstraining: huhhh well i didnt say ur wrong i just dont give a shit. big difference baybee

honey💗b💗lovely: you sure changed your mind quick.

blackcat_tritailstraining: yeah well yknow. whatever

blackcat_tritailstraining: OH MY FUCKN

blackcat_tritailstraining: THAT DUMB BITCH

blackcat_tritailstraining: HE DID NOT JUST SAY CANCELING BOMBERS POWER UP WAS "JUST LIKE ZORAAL JA"

honey💗b💗lovely: I FUCKING TOLD YOU

honey💗b💗lovely: I TOLD YOU SO.

blackcat_tritailstraining: HONEY WE GOTTA MAKE HIM SHUT THE FUCK UP I SWEAR

blackcat_tritailstraining: maybe eutrope should just kill tart like its for his own good at this point

honey💗b💗lovely: well you already know what i think about that idea 🫢

blackcat_tritailstraining: oh great

blackcat_tritailstraining: idk what bomber took out of that quip but its nothing good

blackcat_tritailstraining: theyre fighting now lol

honey💗b💗lovely: oh dear 😅🫣

blackcat_tritailstraining: i know dw im filming it lol. send it to u later brb o/

honey💗b💗lovely: bye 😘🐝💕

[darkestaken]

"you  crossed  a  line." hear me out. he says this completely deadpan and it kind of sounds like he's being antagonistic/confrontational but actually streli is an extremely inconsequential like .1 cm over/beyond a little 'wait here' line on the floor (for anything u please like waiting to challenge or the redemption counter or whatever <3) and he's just being annoying about it.

STIRRING THE POT. ↪ accepting.

strelitzia isn't stupid; not an anarchist without a brain. she knew, SOME RULES ARE MEANT TO BE FOLLOWED.

stop at a red light ? you don't wanna get ran over, do you. safety protocols involving food, yeah, generally speaking you don't want to croak after a bite. standing behind the yellow line in a train station ? now, THAT'S JUST COMMON SENSE.

but she's heard things, she's heard about the subway masters, and how much of a STICKLER FOR THE RULES they could be. aside from a battle, that's one of the things that IMMEDIATELY grabbed their attention.

( this was planned, stylized. under an inch beyond the border, and while she displayed her back at him, she couldn't help but a tug at her lips. )

it disappears before she turns around. ❝ really ? ❞

❝ you sure got LOTS OF FREE TIME to bother a tourist, don't ya. they PAY YOU to do that too ? ❞ a tourist, but not a mindless one. she KNOWS who this is, she just acts like she doesn't. a heavy sigh. ❝ you gonna BATTLE ME over it or sum'thin' ? this place's full of chumps, wouldn't recommend it. ❞

[darylbae]

depends how angsty ya wanna go buuut

a touch starved daughter!reader & a loving mother carol. at the kingdom, after the war w the saviours. carol notices that she’s distancing herself from ezekiel and henry. confronts reader. maybe reader snaps ? maybe she’s just sad/trying to ignore emotion but carol just reassuring.

problem solver — carol peletier

carol x daughter!reader

in which you, carol's daughter, just can't adjust to all the changes

note: my first carol fic! i hope it's good enough for u anon

Life before the outbreak wasn't important to you. It was about life now. It was about surviving, doing what you can for the people you cared about. You'd bonded with Carol when she'd arrived at the Kingdom, and you'd already been good friends with Henry and his older brother, and had a nice friendship with the King. They were your family. But when you'd lost Henry's older brother, that's when it all started going downhill. There was unrest with the saviors, a war commencing, of which you'd be taking part in. And it was all getting too much. So when the war was over, you'd made the choice to keep yourself to yourself.

It had been a while of loneliness, solitude you'd chosen for yourself. You still went to dinner, but ate alone and quickly, so you could hole yourself up again, you still did you duties for the Kingdom, but avoided everyone you could at all costs. You'd gone so long without a family before the Kingdom, so you could do it again. You don't remember the sound of your family's voices, the way a hug from your mom felt, it was a painfully distant memory. Carol had noticed she'd seen a lot less of you after the war was over. She'd catch a glimpse of you around, try to give you a smile, but you'd just turn the other way. Were you avoiding her? Carol was a realist. She was stern, but caring. Yet always had a sweet spot for you. You reminded her so much of her own daughter, she'd taken you under her wing, until you'd chosen to fly away from her entirely. She'd grown sick of it. Seeing you choose to be alone, when she knows there's something bouncing around in that head of yours. So she'd taken to getting it dealt with. Knocking on your door, Carol waited silently until she could hear the creak of the door opening. She'd put her boot in the door frame, and you'd quickly admitted defeat. "Tell me what's going on." You sighed deeply, sitting back on your bed with your book on your lap. "Nothing." "Liar." Her smile was sweet, but you knew her game. She was going to get you to crack. "I don't want to talk about it." You added. Carol sat on your bed beside you, looking at the book in your hand. Something she'd never heard of before, no doubt a sappy romance. She knew you loved those. "That's okay. I'll sit here until you're ready." "I won't be." "You will be." "Fine!" You exclaimed, standing up and throwing the book back onto the desk where you were collecting them. "You wanna know what my problem is? It's this. All of this. I can't just go back to being happy families, this isn't normal. This world is not normal anymore! We've just fought and killed a bunch of people, and now you want me to go back to picking tomatoes and hunting for dinner?" You'd snapped. Carol knew this wasn't directed at her, so she didn't feel offense, instead she just shifted over to where you were crying on the floor, and joined you. "It's okay to feel like that," she soothed, her arms around you and smoothing your hair, "you're right, this world is not normal. But family and community is important. You don't want to be alone in this world, I don't want you to be alone. So to have a family here, it's good. You can cry to me, to Ezekiel, and we'll make it better for you. I promise." That was one thing you could remember about your mom, how she was a problem solver. So you were glad to have Carol, to do your problem solving.

[limomi]

adults only, minors don't interact

we all know that Reo is at the very least ok/good in everything he does, so i'm just literally physically unable to stop thinking how he'd be singing this song for ya...

imagine how yall have sorta singing competition while studying in uni n Reo never gave a damn about it but

so u 2 r really close friends both in love with each other but still not dating cause each of you's afraid to confess. most likely u don't wanna be "one of all that ppl" confessed to him n get rejected n even he'd say yes, he'd definitely do that just not to make u sad? moroever, u 'know' his family won't ever accept u as his partner.

the same time Reo can't believe that you as perfect as you are to him can love someone like him, cause let's be honest, his self-esteem is so much lower than should be

so time goes by n u 2 fall more n more in love n it causes a lot of fights between u, u 2 just can't stand seeing each other being so nice n friendly to someone else, smiling to someone else, spend time enjoying someone's company but yall can't honestly explain what r the reasons of that 'weird' behavior so u fight even more. neither of u wanna lose this connection between u, but both of you are sure that it'll surely happen if either of you reveals the truth about ur feelings to the other

one day Mikage got way too overheated with jealousy, observing u going to lunch with some random guy n letting him to touch u when he helps u clean ur face cause u have sauce n crumbs allover it, when that guy has a nerve to hug u, to make u smile n laugh so sincerely

Reo confronts u, u immediately get defensive n angry with such tone he talks to u with, the fight is just dreadful, he says n screams a lot but nothing he actually should, the same do u

now u don't talk for weeks, even months n none of u can get over it, get over ur feelings but also fear to lose each other. so stupid n ironic of both of u to be that afraid of loosing each other n still doing everything what's leads to it

the day of singing competition Reo didn't even know about it, he just didn't care at all, but than some of his friends invited him cause one of contestants was the crush of this pure guy but he was to shy n embarrassed to go alone, so being nice person as he is, Reo agrees to keep his poor friend's company. n there he sees u with that guy he confronted u about.

Reo's mad n broken at the same time, he couldn't be sure if something's going on between u or not but he thought about the worst scenario possible n immediately got nauseous so he excused himself, saying he needed to go, n ended up spending most of the competition in the restroom, picturing u in the arms of that guy

'no thoughts, head empty' he run without any clear plans, irritated and defeated, to the concert hall, backstage area, and literally ordered to put a minus of this song next, he'd been listening to it on repeat for a long time, back when you gave it to him to listen to over a year ago.

ofc, they tried to turn him down, saying he wasn't on the list of contestants, but a few words were enough to make the organizers worry about their future well-being so they did what he wanted

Mikage ordered all the footlights to go out before he appeared on stage, n the hall was completely dark, at first no one could understand what was going on, but suddenly Reo's voice came on, filling the void with pain and love that was clearly audible in his singing, n u couldn't help but recognize that beloved voice, so tears began to roll down your cheeks in unstoppable rivers, even though u couldn't see him, you knew that was him.

song comes to the end, Reo screams 'see? I said that u have power over me' n that exact moment as he burst into tears he feels ur hand holding his one as u say with trembling voice 'let's go out of here, I don't wanna our first kiss be this public"

P.S. sorry but sometimes my brain just needs scenarios like in stupid romantic tv-shows for teens