#and it turned out that he Did Not React Well oops

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Hi, I have a fic request maybe if you're up to it...

I am an old fan of some classic tropes and would love the ghouls x reader/MC with the "had to pretend to be fake dating but oops wow cuddling and kisses are heckin great" plot line.

and though I love each ghoul for different reasons somehow Taiga has crawled into my brain as my favorite ghoul don't ask me how I don't know either but please don't leave him out I beg—

I'm a fan of those kinds of tropes as well so more than happy to take my turn at writing some!

I threw in an extra trope for Taiga, hope you enjoy

Fake Dating

Featuring: Taiga | Luca | Leo

Taiga Hoshibami - You're not entirely sure how you ended up here, hanging off the arm of the Sinostra captain as the two of you walked into a hotel so fancy you could almost think it put his casino to shame. Almost.

You were on a mission to catch an anomaly, and to catch the anomaly, the two of you had to pretend to be a couple. The anomaly only targeted couples, so this was the easiest path to getting it to appear.

Still, it was just your luck to end up having to pretend to date the one man you were crushing on so hard you wished you really were dating.

"You're so tense, Kitty Cat~" Taiga laughed.

"It's not my fault this is just an awkward situation." You huffed, looking away from him as a blush fell over your cheeks.

He just laughed again, and, after checking you both in, he lead you up to your room.

Your stomach dropped when you walked into the room. Right, you were meant to be a couple so of course.

There was only one bed.

"Well, Kitty, this will be a fun night~" Taiga laughed. You had a feeling this would be an interesting night to say the least.

Over the rest of the day, you dragged Taiga around to do couple things in the hopes of gaining the anomaly's attention.

You slowly grew more relaxed around him, and leaned into the illusion. After all, this was nearly what you'd been wanting, and now you got to date him, even if it was just for show.

You even had a candlelight dinner in the hotel restaurant, and, to your surprise, Taiga was a complete gentleman to you, and he kept complementing you, not his usual crass flirts, but genuine complements. You were so flustered by it all that you were sure your face was red as a tomato.

By the end of it all you were exhausted, and Taiga was getting more and more fed up with wandering around everywhere.

That meant retiring to your room. With the one bed.

You flopped onto the bed the second you got into the room, and nearly fell asleep right then. At least until a thump startled you, and you looked over the edge of the bed to see Taiga lying on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Figured you wanted the bed, Kitty." He huffed before grinning,"but I'm more than happy to share with ya~"

You mulled it over, you did feel bad making him sleep on the floor otherwise, and this might be your only chance to ever stay in the same bed as him.

"Come on, we'll share." You relented, and in a flash he was up on the bed with you. Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, resting his chin atop your head. "Taiga?!" You yelped in confusion as your cheeks heated up.

"Shut up and sleep, Kitty." Taiga hummed, sounding already half asleep. You tried to relax, letting the sounds of his heartbeat soothe you. Soon, you drifted off to sleep.

When morning came, you awoke feeling like you'd just had the best sleep of your life. Cracking open an eye, you jumped, startled to see Taiga watching you as your head rested on his chest.

"You're so pretty when you're mumbling in your sleep, Kitty~" he laughed.

"Were- were you just watching me sleep?!" You pouted, trying to sit up only for him to pull you back down onto him, your face heating up. "Taiga? What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious, Kitty? I'm tryna enjoy laying in bed with my girlfriend."

"Oh..right, the whole fake dating thing, gotcha." You mumbled.

"The fuck you on about? This ain't fake Kitty."

Now it was your turn to be confused. "What are you on about?? This whole mission was about us fake dating because the anomaly targets couples.."

"Why the hell do you think I made Lulu let me go instead of him? He's not dating my Kitty Cat." Taiga growled. "This ain't fake."

Oh.

Your cheeks heated up even more at the implication. That meant, you really had gone on a nice dinner date with Taiga, and he was your boyfriend. You grinned big, before a new thought came to you.

"Tai? Can I kiss you?" You pleaded. Instead of answering, he just grinned and pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours.

Yeah, you definitely weren't leaving that bed for a while now.

Lucas Errant - "Are you certain you are okay with this MC? We can still turn back and figure something else out if you are uncomfortable." Luca suggested, always worried after your well being.

You were waiting beside him to get into a club. An anomaly had been reported to be there targetting couples, and it was decided that you and Luca would pretend to be a couple.

Jin would stand out too easily, Kaito would probably have a heart attack from it, and Tohma had been the one to suggest Luca. You were fairly certain the vice captain knew of your crush on Luca and was pushing for this just to mess with you.

"I'm sure I'm okay with Luca. If I have to pretend to date anyone, then I'm glad it's you." You soothed, and he seemed to relax, flashing you a soft smile.

"I'm glad it is you as well." He admitted. You felt your cheeks heat up, and you glanced away.

Soon you were both let into the club, and as the loud sounds hit you, you stuck a little closer to Luca, worried about being separated from him, especially with all the scantily clad women around.

You knew Luca wasn't the type to go for them, he was a perfect gentleman after all, but still, a part of you felt insecure as you looked around. Plus, as you reminded yourself, he wasn't even yours, so it was possible he could find someone there he liked.

Luca laced his fingers together with yours, giving you a reassuring smile. You smiled back at him.

You held onto Luca's hand as he went around asking questions to help the two of you track down the anomaly.

You barely registered most of it, too focused on the way his hand felt in yours. The warmth of his skin on your, and the way his fingers fit in perfectly with yours.

"Your boyfriend is so adorable. Where did you find him?" A voice asked, making you finally tune back in to find one of the girls at the club was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

"Oh, Luca? He's the sweetest man I've ever known. We met at school and he was one of my first friends. He's always been there for me, whenever I need him." You confessed, noting how Luca overheard and blushed at your praise.

"Aww that is too cute. You must be so lucky!" The girl replied.

"Yeah, I'm the luckiest in the world to have him." You replied softly, smiling sadly. The girl didn't notice your sadness, though, and soon went off to dance.

"MC, those things you said..did you mean them?" Luca asked gently. You looked at him and nodded.

"I meant every word." You confessed.

"MC.. I know this was intended to be just for the mission, and if you say no, I respect your boundaries and will insist Tohma take my place so you don't feel uncomfortable, but..I have genuine feelings for you, and all this just makes me hope that maybe you'd like to date me for real." He confessed.

Your breath caught in your throat. You moved quickly and pulled him into a hug. "Luca, I'd love nothing more than to call you my boyfriend for real."

He beamed and hugged you back happily.

Leo Kurosagi - "Pose for the photo!" Leo ordered, and you did as he said, leaning into him and posing for the selfie.

You weren't really sure why you agreed to this, to play pretend at dating so Leo could gain more followers and stay trending as he posted photos of the two of you.

Maybe you just liked the attention or had nothing better to do. Though really, you knew it was because deep down you wished it wouldn't be fake. You'd somehow fallen for the influencer, and weren't sure how to confess your feelings, afraid that if you did, this all would end and you'd have no reason to hang out with him anymore.

"How'd that one turn out?" You asked, leaning into him again to try and get a look at his phone screen.

"Tch, not good enough." He huffed. "We're taking it again. We need something better."

As he set up the phone to take the photo again, you decided this was it, this was your chance to be bold. I mean, his followers would certainly eat it up.

As he set up the timer and turned it on, you grabbed his face and kissed him, shocking him, right as the flash of the camera went off, photo taken.

Before he could react, you pulled away, not meeting his gaze for fear of his reaction and embarrassment at having just done that.

"How'd that picture turn out?" You asked, looking anywhere but at him.

"Hmph, actually turned out really good. Nice thinking NPC, my followers will love this." He grinned, furiously typing on his phone. You nodded, and, feeling awkward, stood up to leave.

"Well, glad you got a good photo. Let me know when you need to be my fake boyfriend again." You said before starting to walk away.

Leo looked up to watch you go. He frowned at the pang he felt watching you walk away. He'd been surprised by the kiss but was even more surprised to find that he'd wanted it to continue.

He..wanted to date you...for real.

Well, he was going to find a way to make this happen. He always gets what he wants.

Later, you got a text from Leo to meet him at his dorm later than evening. And to dress nice.

You figured he wanted another photoshoot, so you dressed up nice and went to meet him when the time came.

When you got to his room, he let you in, and you were surprised to see romantic candles set up as well as food that you knew Sho had cooked at Leo's pleading.

"This will make a nice photo." You commented.

"No photo." Leo mumbled, making you at him in surprise.

"What? I can't give my girlfriend a date without taking a picture?!" He huffed, not meeting your gaze.

"But...it's fake, we do this for the photos..?" You questioned.

"God you're dense NPC! This is clearly not fake!"

"You..want to genuinely date me?" You asked with surprise.

"Wow, you finally got it." Leo sneered, but he still didn't meet your gaze. You huffed and lightly punched his arm.

"Don't be an ass." You sighed before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Boyfriend~," you teased. He smirked to hide the blush crossing his features.

"Good. Well since you've agreed to this, do you think we could go back on that no photos thin" he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine, so long as I get kiss in payment."

"Tch, needy. Fine, you get your kiss~"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tag list: @cloudcountry @ventisimpilysm @ash0-0ley

Wanna be added or removed? Let me know!

[inupibaldspot]

Back off,kid.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : (Teen)Gojo is jealous over (kid) Fushiguro having a crush on you.

Fushiguro Megumi always wonders if he made the right choice every time a white-haired sunglass wearing teenager walks into the house.

The tall older boy would grin as his hands form a salute. “You doing good Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He was as useful as the indoor plants. Fushiguro thought.

Gojo wasn’t much good at cooking and neither helped with cleaning, probably because of his rich background—but he did spoil them with lots of food and pocket money but he wouldn’t ever admit that.

As much as Fushiguro would love to throw insults at Gojo, he holds back his tongue each time; Tsumiki would send sharp glare and nag him if he did.

The first friend he brought to visit them was a girl; it was after Gojo went missing for a while and when Tsumiki inquired about it ,he simply said one of his dear friend went cray-cray as his finger twirls at the temple of his head.

The girl had short, brown hair with a distinct smell of cigarette; her name was Shoko Ieiri. She wore an impressed look when she entered the house as she looked over to Gojo. “Heh— The place is pretty neat,Gojo.”

Fushiguro looked to Gojo who placed some groceries on the counter top with a proud smile on his face. “I know right!” Gojo replies.

The young boy frowns. “It’s Tsumiki who keeps the place clean.” Shoko gives Gojo a stare before she cackles.

A week later when Tsumiki was still in school with club activities, another person makes an appearance ,you. He could faintly hear conversations between you and Gojo through the front door on how you’d actually wanted to visit them sooner but was bombarded with mission before it swings open.

The first thing Fushiguro noticed was how Gojo seemed to make you enter first— other times he barges in without a care for Shoko— his hands near your back with a slight space, without touching it. Why was Gojo being nice?

You blink at the dark haired boy. “Fushiguro Megumi, right?” Gojo peers from behind as you smile. “Did you eat?”

“Not yet. Waiting for Tsumiki to get home.” Fushiguro thinks you’re the first person who is kind of decent.

You nod take plastic bag from Gojo’s hands and lift up it, your smile widen. “I’ll make you some good stuff then.”

“I want to eat your cooking too,y/n.” Gojo chirps in only to be ignored. And to your credit, it was actually good. He didn’t remember the last time he had something this good home made.

After that, your visits seemed to increase which Fushiguro Megumi did not mind, in fact he was getting fond of your presence. You helped with food, cleaning which lessened the load on Tsumiki plus you also helped him with his studies.

“You seemed to get it now, Megumi.” Poor kid, blushes a bit hearing your compliment. “Practice this set of questions and I think you’ll do pretty well on your tests.” You smile.

Fushiguro nods as he does as you say, face still heated up. He looks up at you, who was reading a book. Your hair slightly in your face, lips slightly parted with eyes focused. You were extremely beautiful and as much as he wouldn’t admit it , he had a big fat kid crush on you.

“Megumi-chan.” Suddenly he is shoved to the side as a body makes way in between you and him. It was Gojo who sat in between. “Move over~ This seat is mine.”

The boy frowns and so did you, not liking Gojo’s action. “Don’t interrupt the kid, who is studying.” Kid? Ouch…You huff as your move over, despite you complaining you make space for him, focus back on your book.

Fushiguro watched as Gojo leans closer to you, almost resting his head on your neck as he looked over to your book; after a while eyes slowly moved over to you, his expression softens.

Gojo smiles as he tugs a piece of hair behind your hair, to which you don’t react as if it was normal. Thee older man then turns his head to Fushiguro—oops,he got caught staring.

The white haired boy then grins, a condescending one in fact as he mouths out the following words.

‘y/n-is-mine.” Fushiguro huffs. ‘back-off.”

·:*¨༺ Part 2༻¨*:·

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[tangerineastronaut]

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang (Part 1)

Part 2

The one where your best friend can't keep his secret anymore (and you're oblivious).

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee. 

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 

The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

Part 2 is out now!

[munchhmm]

Oops! All Skin

How the boys would react to reader accidentally revealing themselves ≧ ≦

plz be nice this is the first piece I've ever written

Pairings: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, and Ace x F!reader (separate)

Warnings: Implied nudity that's about it ᴥ

Word count: About 3.7k words total

Credit to @cafekitsune for dividers! ෆ (first pic is mine)

Luffy ˃ 𖥦 ˂

Just blinks and tilts his head.

Definitely wouldn’t understand what's going on at first.

Continues (well attempts, before you smack him with your pillow) to try and talk with you like nothings happening.

Huffs dramatically like a baby and closes the door behind him with no urgency.

Doesn’t hesitate to mention the situation in front of the whole crew while you’re all eating breakfast. cue Sanji falling to the floor like he’s dying

You were sleeping in peacefully, the sun slowly starting to rise over the horizon and bleed through your cabin window. The Straw Hat crew rarely got chances to stay in bed past ten in the morning, so surely they were all gonna take it, right?

Well…

“HEY! Y/N!! SANJI COULDN’T SLEEP SO HE’S MAK–” Luffy stopped mid-sentence as he barged into your dorm, seeing you standing with a blanket barely covering half your naked body. The sudden noise startled you, but you didn’t have enough time to react properly. “Oh yeah! Anyway Sanji’s–” the clueless boy stopped again after being smacked with a pillow you quickly grabbed from your bed.

“Luffy! Get out, please!” you say, embarrassed as your face becomes a dark shade of red, attempting to cover yourself better with the blanket. Luffy pouts and turns towards the door. “Hmph, fine, you big meanie,” he says, pouting and slowly closing the door behind you.

Later that day...

By the time you mustered up the courage to go into the dining hall, most of the crew had already eaten. They were now cleaning dishes and cooking utensils. You quietly walked to the table where your serving was still waiting and tried to be invisible, stepping slowly. Once you started sitting down, Nami turned to look at you.

“Hey Y/N! Wow, you really did sleep in this morning. It’s almost noon!”

Before you can respond, Luffy chimes in, “Nuh uh! She was up when I walked into her room a bit ago!”

Your face immediately starts to turn red again, and you glance down at your plate.

“If you were up already, why didn’t you come eat breakfast with us?” Usopp questions as he dries his hand with a towel.

“I just wanted to read by myself for a bit…” you lie, moving food around on your plate, hoping everyone will just drop the subject.

Of course, it's never that easy.

“Wait, were you upset because you weren’t dressed when I walked in?” Luffy asks innocently while digging into the refrigerator. Didn’t he literally just eat?

Everyone turns to you with a mix of shock and amusement on their faces.

“Oh ho ho! Does this mean Y/N sleeps nude? I don’t have to guess what those panties look like!” Brook jokes while Robin chuckles slightly.

“My love, why would you show your body to him and not me?!” Sanji cries while clutching his chest.

The rest of the crew (aside from Zoro, who acts like he’s sleeping) are too stunned to do or say anything and just continue to stare. You sigh and stand from your seat, mumbling, “I’m going back to my room. You guys are annoying.”

After closing the door to your living quarters and sitting at your desk, it isn’t long before you hear a knock at the door. When you get up to greet the person, it’s none other than Luffy.

“I really am sorry for not knocking this morning, and mentioning everything in front of the crew,” he says calmly, with that puppy look he gives when he’s sad.

You smile and shake your head slightly. “It’s fine. I’m glad you understand why I was upset now.”

Luffy smiles back at you and gives his signature giggle. “I did like your chest though, could I see it again sometime?!”

You shove him playfully, with a blush coming back across your face. Maybe you could use this as payback.

⋆˚࿔𝄢ৎ୭

Zoro ˆ𐃷ˆ

Immediately turns away.

Poor boy is blushing so hard but hides it really well.

Tries to apologize but can’t say it yet.

Doesn’t look at you for a full day because honestly he’s more embarrassed than you.

Eventually sits next to you and says sorry in his own way.

The crew had landed on an island to restock supplies and, of course, a horrible storm forced them to spend a few days docked. Since the island was smaller, there wasn’t much opportunity to find an inn or hotel, so everyone decided to set up a small camp near the city.

It had been a long day, and you all knew it was going to be at least another three or so days before it would be safe to set out again. The rain and wind were relentless, causing the crew to huddle closer than usual. Tired and hungry, they decided to have dinner and a makeshift shower in the rain before heading to bed.

“I set up this curtain so we could have at least a little bit of privacy. Just don’t touch it, or it’ll probably fall,” Robin says with a smile. After the meal, everyone took their showers, but you decided to take yours last, too busy admiring the way the rain hits the leaves and the smell of earth.

“Your turn, Y/N!” Nami said, bringing you out of your thoughts as she stepped out from behind the curtain, covered by a towel.

You thank her and head over with your own towel and clean pair of clothes. The water feels nice on your bare skin—it was nice not having the feeling of damp clothes clinging to your body, weighing you down. You again found yourself lost in thought, closing your eyes and just listening to the relaxing sounds of nature. It was relaxing. Until—

Bang! Clang! Clang!

You open your eyes at the loud noise and turn around to see Zoro on the ground with the curtain underneath him, rubbing his head and mumbling curses to himself. Before you can react, he looks up and stands, turning to walk away with a blush.

“I, uh, s-sorry. It was an accident.”

You suddenly realize what happened. After drying off and dressing yourself quickly, you make your way to where the girls are sleeping for the night.

“What was that loud noise? Did you knock over our shower, Y/N?” Nami teases playfully, but when she sees your flustered reaction, her look softens.

“Hey, I was just joking, it’s really no big deal.”

You sigh loudly and rub your face with your hand. “Yeah, but it is a big deal that it was Zoro who knocked it over while I was showering.”

The girls look at you, shocked, then they both start laughing. You roll your eyes and lay down facing away from them, waving them off when they apologize through their giggles. Sure, it was funny to them—but to you and Zoro? Just awkward.

Time skip...

The next day comes and goes uneventfully. Rain and winds are still there but have definitely lessened overnight. Everyone begins to pack, since it’s looking like they’ll be able to leave tomorrow. Zoro glances at you a few times but looks away once you notice—no talking though.

“Don’t worry, just tease him about it when we get back on the ship and he’ll be back to his normal self,” Nami whispers to you with a playful wink.

You sigh and roll your eyes, continuing the day like this. No words, no touches, just short looks and blushing.

Time skip...

Finally, it’s sunny—the wind almost nonexistent. The crew heads towards their ship with supplies and admires the beautiful view of the island without chaos surrounding them. You stay toward the back of the group to avoid Zoro, who’s closer to the front.

Once everyone makes it onto the ship and sets sail, they all go and do their own activities. The sea is calm and the waves crash gently against the boat. You sit against a railing on the deck and watch the ocean.

Suddenly, there’s a presence near that flops down beside you. At first you don’t look, but the sound of katanas being set against the wood of the deck gives away who it was.

“So, uh… I hope you aren’t mad at me. I wasn’t looking where I was going and tripped over the edge of the curtain,” Zoro says, looking away from you while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said that sooner.”

You can’t help but smile at how flustered he is, and how sweet he’s trying to be.

“I’m not mad. If anything, I thought you were mad at me,” you say as you lean your head against Zoro’s shoulder.

He lets out a small sigh like he was holding his breath. While wrapping his arm around you, he smirks and says, “Well, I can’t be mad at getting the chance to see something like that.”

Once again you’re blushing, hiding your face in Zoro’s shoulder.

“So you’re acting like Sanji now, huh?” you ask playfully, trying to hide how flustered you are by his comment.

Zoro tilts his head to look at you. “I’ll take that as my punishment. I’m nothing like that pervy cook,” he says as he places his chin on the top of your head.

⋆˚࿔𝄢ৎ୭

Sanji 𖦹ࡇ𖦹

Normal Sanji reaction, nosebleed and falling to the floor on his knees in a desperate attempt to gain your love.

Swears he didn’t look but he definitely did.

Up your ass for the rest of the day literally? jkjk.

Every time he sees you afterwards he just imagines what he saw that day.

But if it scares you? That’s a different story…

The large city spread farther than the crew had anticipated. Of course, everyone was entranced by their own area of interest—Luffy at a butcher shop, Robin at a cute little bookstore that smelled of paper, and Nami was ready to go shopping.

“Y/n, do you wanna come with me? That boutique has the cutest tube tops!”

Before you can answer, she’s already dragging you by the hand to the store—but not without the blond cook in quick pursuit.

“I’ll go with you, Y/n and Nami~”

You can practically feel Nami rolling her eyes.

All three of you go from shop to shop, collecting more and more bags, making Sanji carry them. He didn’t mind, as long as he got to be around you.

After a bit, you find a two-story café that sells a small selection of handmade clothing on the top floor. Immediately, you and Nami walk in and make your way to the second story. Sanji goes up the stairs effortlessly despite probably having 30 pounds of clothing in his hands.

There’s a small changing room in the corner for customers to try on clothing. Not many of the other shops you visited had one, so you and Nami took full advantage.

While you were both in the changing room, Sanji found a beautiful pink and white lace top that made him think of you. Overwhelmed by the idea of seeing you in it, he flings himself over to your dressing room door.

“Y/n~ I found this gorgeous top that would look absolutely amazing on you, my sweet~”

You jokingly roll your eyes on the other side of the door, still changing back into the top you were wearing before.

“Sure, let me see it, Sanji,” you say with a small chuckle.

The door had been locked, so there was no way he assumed you meant to see it at this exact moment, right? Wrong.

Sanji pulls on the handle a little harder than he should’ve, causing the latch to break and the door to swing wide open. You cover your mouth with your hands out of shock, then turn around to hide yourself.

“What is wrong with you, Sanji?!” you scream, your tone more fearful than angry.

He’s already on the floor, nosebleed in full effect, but once he hears the way you scold him, Sanji sits up.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m looking away, I promise.”

You hear a softness in his voice he rarely shows. After composing yourself for a second, you redress and turn around to see Sanji facing away from you on the opposite side of the room.

Nami gives you a look to ask if you’re okay. You nod at her with a faint smile. The loud noise startled you more than you thought it would—plus, having your crewmate see you in that state definitely didn’t help.

Later that day…

Back on the ship after a long day of fun and a few wild stories from the other members, everyone goes to bed a little early from exhaustion. It was your turn to be lookout first for the night, so you make your way to the crow’s nest, bringing your bags of clothing with you to look at in case you get bored.

It wasn’t long until you heard someone making their way up the ladder. Assuming it was Nami, you smiled and sifted through a bag to show her some of your new skirts.

You were surprised to see Sanji instead. He had an unreadable look on his face.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks quietly.

You nod your head and let him sit next to you.

“I never want to make anyone uncomfortable—especially you.” Sanji looks at you with a soft and apologetic expression. “If anyone has ever hurt you enough to make you that jumpy… I don’t want to add to that. I’m sorry.”

His words make your heart skip a beat. You smile and look out to the ocean for a moment before turning back to him.

“Apology accepted. I can’t be mad at the boy who carried my clothes all day,” you say with a small laugh.

Sanji fakes being insulted.

“Boy?! For you, my love, I am a man!~”

You shake your head with another laugh at his antics, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“That’s for making me feel better,” you say while laying against his shoulder. Cue another nosebleed.

⋆˚࿔𝄢ৎ୭

Law . ̫.

Freezes. Closes his eyes. Turns around. Walks away.

Can’t get the image out of his head and it’s driving him crazy.

Acts professional but is dying on the inside.

“I’m a doctor I’ve seen this, It’s no different” he tells himself but it is different.

Worried about you and your feelings more than anything but doesn’t outwardly show it.

Waiting patiently wasn’t your strong suit, especially with a gash covering your shoulder and collarbone. It was nothing too bad—just a few stitches needed. Having a habit of letting your guard down when fighting finally came back to bite you, and it was a nasty bite.

Law stands on the other side of the room, preparing the tools necessary to patch you up, focused and straight-faced like always. “Are you almost done? It hurts to lay down like this,” you ask with slight annoyance.

“Sit up if you want to, just be careful and push yourself up with your other arm. Do you need help?” he asks casually, as if you weren’t half-naked under the thin paper sheet. You hated having to use them, but keeping on a shirt covered with blood isn’t sanitary.

You shake your head, implying you don’t need help. Law goes back to preparing the needle while you use what little strength you have to pull yourself into a sitting position on the examination table.

It was harder than you thought. You tried to tuck the sheet covering you under your arm so it wouldn’t slip, but instead, you slip—right off the edge of the table and onto the floor, causing a shooting pain to surge through your whole arm.

Immediately, Law is at your side to help you up, trying to ignore the fact the sheet had now completely fallen off your body. You blush when you realize you’re exposed to him and quickly try to cover yourself. Bad mistake. Another shooting pain stretches its way through your arm and shoulder, causing you to yelp.

“Stop moving so much. You’re making it worse. Just wait a second and I'll give you something for the pain.” His ears are red, but his face is still focused and stern. You have your own blush dusting your cheeks as you nod at him and wait for all of this to be over.

He clearly saw, and that was all Law saw for the next few hours. It was wrong, and he knew it, but he was going to try and make it up to you.

Later that day…

It’s been a few hours and the medicine is starting to wear off. You lay in your bed, contemplating if you should go and ask for more. Would he say something? Would he act like it never happened? Will he stop talking to me? All these thoughts race through your mind until they’re interrupted by a knock at your door. Slowly, you make your way to answer, seeing Law holding a cup with pills and another cup filled with water.

His face shows the same expression as before, but a little more flustered. “Here. You need to take these for pain and to prevent infection.” He hands you the two cups cautiously. You smile faintly and take them from him, accidentally brushing his finger with yours.

Law’s ears turn red again at the contact. After clearing his throat, he says, “Dinner will be ready soon. You need to eat so you can heal quicker.” You can’t help but chuckle a little at how he’s acting. It was kinda cute. “Thanks, I’ll be there in a bit. I just gotta clean my room,” you say with a smile, setting down the cups on your dresser. “No, I’ll get someone else to clean it. You need to rest as much as possible,” he says as he turns and walks back toward the med bay.

You stand in the doorway, shocked for a moment. If it were any other crew member, he would still expect them to keep up with chores—within reason. Why were you any different?

Later that night…

After dinner, you find it hard to stand, too tired and sore from the long day. You decide to lay your head down on the table just for a few minutes so you can rest your eyes—or at least that’s what you told yourself.

You feel a warmth on your back and arms, waking you with a groan. When you turn around, you see Law draping his jacket over your shoulders. He freezes for a second before sitting next to you. “You shouldn’t sleep here, you know. It isn’t good for your back.” All you can do is groan again in response—the pain is starting to come back and your legs just won’t move. He sighs and stands beside you.

Before you know what’s going on, Law scoops you up carefully and begins to walk you to your room. You go to protest but find you don’t have the strength to.

Once you make it to your room, he sets you carefully on the bed. You’re already fast asleep during the short walk. He stands for a moment before scoffing to himself. “Sorry for today. Hope this makes up for it,” Law whispers, far enough away where he thinks you can’t hear.

But you do, because you knew he’d never say it to your face—and you’re okay with that. Maybe you’ll have to get hurt more often.

⋆˚࿔𝄢ৎ୭

Ace (๑>؂•̀๑)

Combusts out of sheer embarrassment.

Babbling and blushing mess trying to explain himself.

Apologizes a million times and asks all day if you’re upset with him.

Later he teases you about it just to see you get flustered again.

Secretly loved it but feels shameful. poor baby

Summer was coming quickly and everyone was feeling it, the Moby Dick felt like a sauna. Some were laying on the deck, sprawled out like death was taking them over, others wouldn’t accept their fate and attempted to catch any wind that might come their way.

You on the other hand, took the advantage to get some sun bathing in. No better time to tan when you’ll probably get sun poisoning in under thirty minutes right? Wearing a white ruffled bikini and sunglasses, you laid your towel out over a quiet area of the deck.

The breeze was a bit better where you were but you definitely weren’t going to tell any of the crew that. This spot was just for you, or so you thought.

After a while of rotating so you were evenly roasted, laying on your back and taking a nap sounded like a nice idea. Not noticing your bikini top had shifted while doing your last rotation. It didn’t matter anyway since no one was gonna find you here.

Ace got bored of everyone complaining and being no fun, it wasn’t that hot. He quickly noticed you weren’t where the others were and knew you would be way more entertaining than those babies. Boy was he right.

He rounded the corner to the area where you were still tanning but couldn’t tell you were asleep, with a bright smile on his face, Ace walked up with a plan to sit next to you while you were relaxing, but he stopped in his tracks halfway.

Realizing you were exposed, Ace half-way yells while stammering “Oh m-my god I’m s-so sorry I didn’t notice y-you were like…” His voice waking you in a startle makes him finally understand you were asleep the whole time and he could’ve just walked away with no one knowing what happened. shit.

You quickly fix your top and blush while glancing up at Ace “It’s fine, you really scared me though...” Brushing off the situation clearly wasn’t going to happen. Why of all people did it have to be Ace? “But that’s not what I’m apologizing for! Or well yeah I’m sorry about that too… But uh mainly the… Other thing.”

He’s practically steaming by this point, you know what he was really saying sorry about but you didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were. “Like I said It’s fine I’m not mad, well, I won’t be if you go get me a drink.” you say with a playful wink. Ace sighs with relief and chuckles “Sure, anything for you.”

Later that night…

Once the sun sets the crew becomes a bit more lively, the majority of the heat settled and people wanted to relax. Multiple crew members sit on a long bench out on the deck and yell over each other in drunk slurs, you go to grab a drink yourself when Ace steps in front of you.

Way more cocky than before, he smirks and hands you a drink himself. “For the girl who wanted to flash me earlier~”

A light blush comes across your face as you snatch the drink from his hands. “Well you were the one who liked it~” You say with a playful smirk of your own, he clearly did like it, because all night he’s been doing a shitty job at acting like he didn’t. Every time he looked at you his eyes wandered down lower than they should, and you liked that.

“I loved it actually, but I’d love it even more if I could see the full thing.” Everything about him made your heart skip a beat, sometimes it was hard staying composed around him but you always tried, sometimes succeeded. “Keep talking like that and you might get to one day.” You say while leaning in closer to him.

He doesn’t budge, instead he tucks a finger under your chin and brings himself so close you can feel his breath on your lips. “Y/n I’ll never stop flirting with you, even with that condition on the line.” Then suddenly, he gently presses his lips to yours in the softest kiss you’ve ever had.

You really hope he wasn’t lying.

[stargirlygirl]

How would lads react to that one trend, the hairtie one.

When mc drops her hairtie in front of them innocently but picks it up in a not-so innocent way, misleading them.

NSFW if you cam

(Also I just LOVE your writings. Keep it up and take care of yourself)

star girl's initial words: nonnie i don't know this trend so i'm glad you described it. i looked it up on tiktok but all i got was demure vids about bf's never taking off the hair tie their gf gave them lol. i don't think the lads guys would lose control over something like this, so they're sweet pies here (except for sylus, ofc). thank you for requesting!! i hope you like what i've done here. i appreciate your support<3

you dropped your hair tie trend (they're gentlemen)

⭑.ᐟ caleb

you've been seeing this trend all over tiktok lately. another one of those picking something up suggestively couple trends.

it was only a few videos at first, eliciting an 'aw' from you and a like, maybe even a peruse through the comment section before scrolling. but then the algorithm happened, and suddenly, these videos were the only videos on your fyp.

and today, you thought you might test out the trend on your boyfriend. it's a quiet night after a long day at work. you're in your comfy pjs: a tank top and shorts.

caleb's sitting on the couch, manspreading as per usual, and scrolling through his phone. his white muscle tee clings to every contour on his torso, and those grey sweatpants don't leave enough to the imagination.

innocently, you drop your hair clip near his sock-n-slide-clad feet.

"oops!" you exclaim, turning around so your bf has the perfect view of your ass and bending over with near-straight legs.

glancing up from his phone, all caleb sees are those juicy buns poking out of your shorts until you stand back up. you plop down next to him and twist your hair up. you two eye each other as you secure the clip in place.

he grins lazily, "you right? looked like you were about to bend and snap."

pulling out your front pieces, you scowl, "i did not!" locking his phone, he sets it down on the coffee table before shifting to face you. there's a mischievous look in his sleep-deprived eyes.

"you suuuuurrrree did to me," he teases.

"did not!" you frown, your face heating up under his intense gaze. caleb grabs your wrist and places your hand on his cheek.

leaning into your touch, he asks cheekily, "are you ovulating?"

"caleb!"

"i'm kidding," he chuckles. "you ovulate next week, honey, i know."

"caleb!!" you squeal. turning his head, your bf kisses your palm tenderly.

he mumbles into it, "you bent over right in front of me. what's up, pips?" yep. it's official. your face is red right now. and, your heart is racing a hundred miles an hour.

"nothing," you pout, glancing away as caleb pecks your fingers.

"well, if you want something, honey, all you gotta do is ask. you know that, right?" he smirks.

"mhmm," you hum, still avoiding his gaze.

it's quiet between you momentarily before caleb tugs you into his lap and tickles the truth out of you.

⭑.ᐟ zayne

a rare day off for the cardiac surgeon, he's not safe from your shenanigans. you've spent the day basking in one another, until zayne got an emergency call from work.

right now, he's sitting on the couch, a crease in his brow as his colleague rambles in his ear. you know you shouldn't disrupt his important phone call, but his important phone call is disrupting your precious time together! and besides, zayne clearly isn't impressed by whatever his fellow doctor is yapping about.

you drop your scrunchie, your favourite scrunchie that your boyfriend knows you cannot function without, a short distance away. bending down seductively to pick it up, you can feel zayne's hazels on you.

they trace over your curves and somewhere rather intimate. he gazes away, pink rising to his cheeks.

clearing his throat, the surgeon says clinically, "and you're certain this can't wait until tomorrow?" you retreat back into the kitchen with a smirk and finish up on the caramel slice you two were baking before zayne got held up.

a few minutes later, he strolls in and wraps his muscular arms around your midsection. you giggle as he kisses from your temple down to your chin. glancing back, you smile as his lips press against yours.

"sorry, love," he murmurs, pulling back and rubbing your hips up and down.

"mhmm, it's okay," you reassure him, cutting the (hopefully) delicious slab into chunks for you two.

"d'you wanna try a piece?" you ask sweetly, holding one bite up to his mouth. zayne takes it in one go, his lips ghosting the pads of your fingers as he sighs in pleasure.

grasping your wrist, he gently sucks on your fingertips.

"it's nice. you should have some, too," he says tenderly. grabbing hold of another small piece, he feeds the slice to you like you did to him. you smile as you bite into the sweetness.

"you're right, it is good," you chirp. zayne squeezes you tight before letting go and preparing some tea for your afternoon snack.

⭑.ᐟ sylus

the crime overlord is sitting on the couch, reading a book and drinking wine as he always is at this time of night. you slip into his room, a cheeky grin on your face as you 'accidentally' drop your hair tie right at his feet.

you feign innocence with, "oh no!"

leaning down, sylus gazes up from his reading. he notes your particularly thin night gown, and how it rides up to reveal your underwear.

"how promiscuous, kitten," he drawls. "do you do this every time you drop something?"

straightening up, you pout, "no." he chuckles luxuriously.

feeling bold, you take the book and wine glass from his hands and place them on the nearby low table. rounding, you climb onto his lap, your knees resting on either side of him.

wrapping your arms around his neck, you coo, "don't you think i'm sexy?" his large hands fall on your waist, and he squeezes the fat there reverently.

sylus smirks, "kittens are cute, but i'll make an exception for you, dear." leaning closer, your nose brushes against his.

your boyfriend teases, "in such a loving mood, aren't you, sweetie?"

"mhmm," you hum, closing the gap between you inch by inch until your lips meet. the kiss is slow and experimental. sylus allows you to set the pace, to show him what you want. but you mistake his willingness to be guided for a lack of interest.

drawing back, you murmur, "don't you want me?"

"what do you think, kitten?" he grins cockily. you sigh, starting to get off him when his grip around your waist tightens. pulling you into his body, sylus demonstrates just how much he wants you.

⭑.ᐟ xavier

xav's just woken up from a nap on the couch when you decide to strike. he yawns a little as you step in front of him, pulling your ponytail out and dropping your bunny scrunchie on the carpet.

"oh, my scrunchie!" you exclaim, bending down to grab it. but your plans of rizzing up your boyfriend are foiled when he retrieves the hair tie before you can. he holds it up to you like a kindergartner does their crayon drawing.

"here," he yawns.

"xav!" you groan, taking it from him.

"what?" he murmurs while rubbing the sleep from his sapphire eyes.

you pout, "you were supposed to watch me pick it up, not pick it up for me." confusion settles over his angelic features.

"what?" he repeats. groaning, you roll your eyes and drop down next to him.

you explain moodily, "it's a trend, babe. you're supposed to look at my ass as i bend over to grab my hair tie."

gazing at you, your boyfriend asks seriously, "so instead of helping my girlfriend, i'm supposed to objectify her for online gratification?" your heart stutters.

outstretching your hands, you wave them frantically as you backtrack, "no! no, babe, that's not what i'm saying. what i'm saying is, um, what i'm saying is that you should only objectify me on this one occasion." xavier shakes his head, a slender hand grabbing his chin and he thinks over your words.

your tired prince clarifies, "but how do i differentiate between the occasions you'd like for me to objectify you on, and the occasions you'd like for me to do otherwise?"

"xav!" you whine. cupping his cheeks in your hands, he stares at you with wide eyes.

you sigh, "don't worry about it, baby. just keep doing what you're doing."

xavier murmurs, "but if you'd like for me to objec—" you shut him up with a tender kiss. problem solved.

masterlist

star's final words: you might be thinking, omg star girl where is raf? and i have an announcement to make. ahem. i don't like writing for raf. omg pls have mercy. raf is my absolute fav (even though i'm always writing for zayne n caleb). i don't like writing for him because his character is so complex and i find it really difficult to understand him, and therefore, predict his reactions. it's something i'm working on, so until then, generally i'm gonna avoid writing for him unless something really inspires me and i think i could do him justice.

i could make a whole post (and i'm tempted to) about we he's such a unique character and why, i think, he's the hardest lads character to write for. (rude) anon asked here (abbreviated version).

[delopsia]

Characters: Bob Floyd, Bob Reynolds, Rhett Abbott

Event: Moonlit Bull Riding

Premature ejaculation 👀

And I'm adding roses to the bouquet 🌹🌹 <3

Thank you!! ^w^ This was so fun, haha ⭐Join my Starlight Stampede Event! ⭐

Moonlit Bull Riding — Send any kind of thought or request for your rider(s)

Bob Reynolds °.•☆

"Hurry up," you giggle into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders like a piece of Velcro. Every hesitant step backward feels like a risk, this is it, this is when the world spins and you fall right on your ass. As if the firm hands on your waist would ever let you— You're falling. The couch cushions greet you like a soft cloud. Until Bob's rock-solid body collapses on top of yours, knocking the air out of your chest. "Robert!" You squeal, hammering a fist against his chest. He doesn't react.

Did he even feel that? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," kisses flutter over your face, one after the other, far too sweet and chaste compared to the way his cock rests between your legs. "Are you okay?" "Shockingly, yes," nothing feels broken, at least, otherwise you wouldn't be canting your hips up against him, unwilling to waste any more time than you already have. There's only so much time before his friends come knocking for a very, very scheduled movie night. Friends who are more than capable of getting past a flimsy little lock. But Bob is quick to kick back into gear, using his weight to smother you into the couch cushions and, in turn, dragging his weeping cock between your folds. His tip massages against your clit, rubbing back and forth in short little motions that have your knees fluttering, bumping against his hips. "Bob," dragging out the vowel, you force your eyes to open, peering up at him. Pleading. He reels back just far enough to catch on your entrance, pressing slightly, only to slip past it entirely and— Cum spills onto your pussy without the slightest warning, his hitched moan breaking through the air like thunder after lightning. That's a sight you haven't seen in a while, his pretty cock twitching against you while his orgasm washes through him. "Well, I didn't mean for you to hurry up like that," reaching up, you tap him on the nose. One, two, three times. He blinks with each one. "Oops?"

Rhett Abbott °.•☆

There's a shiver in your hand as you draw his cock out from its confines, fueled on by the rumble of every car that drives past. The last of the rodeo crowd, heading off in their own directions, blissfully unaware that you're even here, wrapping your lips around the local rodeo champions dick. "Fuck, that's it," Rhett grasps the back of your neck, gently squeezing, "'s your lil mouth always this fuckin' wet?" It's a good question that you don't have the answer to. It feels like you're drooling, saliva spilling down the sides of his cock as you flick the tip of your tongue over his slit. There's only so much you can do to catch it before a mess begins to form, sinking down as quickly as you can. "Shit, shit," he jumps, a spur chiming as he kicks his foot at the floorboard. It strikes the gas pedal; the engine roars. Someone yelps. From the sidewalk, you think. Drawing yourself back up to pay attention to his cock head, you can see Rhett fumbling around in the side mirror. He's tilting his head back, sliding that felt brown cowboy hat over his face, concealing his expression. Muffled voices draw close. You do the only thing you can think of. You drop back down, urging yourself to relax as you take him further into your mouth. His tip brushes the back of your throat, sparking your gag reflex, spontaneously fluttering around him. He gasps. "Baby." Cum paints your tongue. Flooding your mouth quicker than you can react, fighting to swallow it down without choking. Tears string at your eyes. The hand on the back of your neck yanks you back up just as you begin to sputter, gasping for air. "You," speaking in between breaths, your voice hardly audible, "are no better than a damn virgin." And for once in his life, Rhett is too flustered to retort.

Bob Floyd °.•☆

Your mouth finds its way to the soft spot beneath his ear, sucking a light red mark into it before he has a chance to chastise you. Stupid Navy and their stupid, bone-headed need to keep him away from you for six whole months. Don't they know who he belongs to? "Has anyone ever told you that you look hot in this uniform?" You muse aloud, half-assedly drawing him out of his slacks. This probably violates some kind of niche code, jerking off one of the Navy's best WSOs in his fancy little uniform. "You," Bobby's groan is so much louder than it was over the phone, "every time I put it on." A sloppy kiss lands further down his neck, not quite what you were going for. "Shhh, it was rhetorical." His cock twitches in your hand. You've done something right. The front door finally, finally clicks shut, effectively pronouncing Robert Floyd home for the first time in what must be a millennium. Such a return should at least warrant using the bed, but you're not suffering through another second without this, not after that excruciating drive home from the airport. Bob's hands are on your face, drawing you to look at him. Eyes meet, and his lips crash into yours. Sloppy. No skill or technique to be found, burned away by the heat of the moment. Saliva drips between your mouths, his teeth nip at your bottom lip. Your wrist twists, working just as recklessly as the rest of you. And maybe you would be able to find the reins of your compsure if Bob wasn't fucking himself into your fist, chasing you every step of the way. Sensitive. So, so, so sensitive. It's a wonder he doesn't— He stills. Gasping into your mouth. Your hand is suddenly wet. "Cumming already?" You tease, but you're already working him through it, flicking a thumb over his tip. Fuck, he just doesn't stop cumming, there's so much of it that it spills through your fingers as you spread it over his cock, makeshift lube. "Oh my god," his eyes roll, lashes fluttering with an aftershock. "Give me...a minute. I don't want this to end, yet."

[himasgod]

Can I request the Twst first years with an S/O who wears glasses? And one day while they're out her glasses fall and break so she asks the guy to be her "seeing-eye boyfriend" until she can get her replacement pair?

FIRST YEARS X READER

Where your glasses break

How would first years react if your glasses broke and you asked them to be your "seeing-eye boyfriend"?

The fall was almost cinematic—one second you're both walking through the courtyard with milkshakes in hand, and the next, your glasses clatter to the stone path with a crisp snap that silences your breath.

Ace blinks down at the broken frames.

“...Well. That sucks.”

Very helpful commentary.

You groan, squinting at the blurry world around you. Everything’s turned into a watercolor painting, pretty, but useless. You reach for your bag, already fumbling for a cleaning cloth or something that might do the impossible and fix them.

Ace crouches down beside you, holding up the broken arm of your glasses like a forensic detective.

“Yeah, no saving these. They're totally toast,” he says and grins.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Your seeing-eye boyfriend. Come on,” he says, puffing his chest.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

“You? You’d lead me into Crowley's office just for fun.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d wait for an excuse,” he shoots back, clearly enjoying this way too much. Still, he steps in beside you, grabbing your hand with more confidence than usual.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be your noble guide through the treacherous lands of blurry hallways and evil staircases.”

Honestly? It’s kind of adorable.

Except…

“Ace,” you hiss as you walk face-first into a hedge, “that was definitely a bush.”

“Oh, oops.” He stifles a laugh. “My bad. I was looking at a crow that looked kinda like Riddle.”

You smack his arm, and he catches your hand before you can escape.

“Okay, okay, for real this time. I swear I’ll guide you”

And he does. Sort of.

Ace’s version of “guiding” includes narrating everything in dramatic tones (“A wild vending machine appears!”), making traffic beeping noises at crosswalks, and waving off student with

“Move aside! VIP coming through.”

But in between the jokes, he’s surprisingly attentive. He warns you about uneven pavement. He helps you down stairs. He gently turns you in the right direction when you start to wander. And when someone asks why he’s being so clingy, he just says:

“Can’t help it. Gotta take care of my favorite person, right?”

When your new glasses finally arrive a few days later, Ace squints at you dramatically.

“Huh. You were even cuter when you were blurry. Guess I’ll just have to date you all over again in HD.”

The moment your glasses fall, Deuce gasps like he just witnessed a crime. You tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. He scrambles to pick them up before you can even get up.

“Are you okay?! Did you hit your head? Oh no—your glasses…”

One look at the snapped arm, and he looks genuinely distressed.

“I can’t believe I didn’t catch you! If only I’d moved faster—”

“Deuce, it’s okay,” you laugh softly, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

“They’re just glasses. I’ve got a backup pair somewhere, I just need to find them later.”

“But you can’t see without them, right?” He holds the broken pair like he’s holding a wounded bird.

“Then—I’ll help. I mean, I’ll… um. Be your… your seeing-eye… boyfriend?”

The way he says it makes you smile.

“…Yeah,” you reply, slipping your hand into his. “That’d help a lot, actually.”

Deuce turns red immediately. His grip on your hand tightens just a little.

Walking with Deuce as your guide is like navigating with an overenthusiastic, overprotective golden retriever. He’s very serious about the job. He announces every step, every turn, every uneven stone like he's defusing a bomb.

“There’s a crack in the pavement coming up. And uh—three steps down. Careful. Okay, good. We’re clear.”

Sometimes you have to stop and remind him not to overthink it.

“You don’t need to call out every single pebble,” you tease.

“I just don’t want you to trip!” he insists, puffing up. “What if you fall and break something? What if I let go and you bump into a wall? What if—”

You gently squeeze his hand. “Deuce. I trust you.”

That short-circuits him for a few seconds.

“…I won’t let you down,” he says, a little softer. “I’ve got you.”

And he does.

He slows his pace to match yours. Offers his arm like a perfect gentleman. Even tries to describe the world around you so you don’t miss out.

“There’s this really pretty bird in the tree ahead—it’s blue and has this weird feather that sticks up—kinda looks like it has a cowlick…”

When you finally get your backup pair of glasses a few days later and slide them on, Deuce stares at you with wide eyes.

“You’re amazing no matter what, but seeing your eyes properly again is…” He stops himself, going bright red.

“I-I mean—you look beautiful. Always. I’m just glad I could help.”

You smile, reaching for his hand again.

“You were the best seeing-eye boyfriend I could’ve asked for.”

He beams. “Anytime.”

The second your glasses hit the ground, Jack’s ears twitch. He doesn’t even hesitate—just crouches and scoops them up, holding the broken frames in his hand like they might somehow fix themselves if he stares hard enough.

“You okay?” he asks, already checking you over for injuries like a concerned older brother. “Did they cut you or anything?”

You shake your head, though your squint makes Jack frown.

“Can’t see much now, though,” you admit, trying to hold the glasses up to judge if they’re wearable.

They’re not. One arm’s completely snapped off and the lens is scratched.

Jack stands straight, folding his arms.

“Alright. Then I’ll walk you back to Ramshackle. Or wherever else you need to go.”

You tilt your head. “You sure?”

"Of course. I can’t just leave you wandering around blind. That’d be irresponsible.”

“Then… can you be my seeing-eye boyfriend for a few days?”

His tail stops wagging. You can almost hear the reboot noise in his brain.

“I—uh. That’s… yeah. I can do that.”

True to form, Jack is efficient, steady, and very aware of his job. He walks at your pace, always slightly in front or to the side so you have an anchor. He doesn’t talk too much—just enough to say things like “step here,” “slippery patch coming up,” or “handrail’s on your left.”

At one point, you trip slightly on a slope and instinctively reach for him—and Jack immediately grabs your hand, pulling you against his side.

“You good?”

“…Yeah,” you mumble, flushed from the sudden proximity.

Jack doesn’t let go. In fact, he holds your hand the rest of the way. Quietly. Warmly. His fingers are a little calloused, but they’re gentle.

When you get your replacement glasses, Jack glances at you with this subtle but very "Jack" kind of softness.

“Glad you got them back. But… if they break again, I wouldn’t mind helping you. Just so you know.”

He turns his head to the side quickly.

“…It’s not a big deal or anything.”

But his tail is wagging again.

The crack of your glasses hitting the ground is followed by Epel’s immediate gasp of, “Whoa—shoot! You okay?!”

He’s already dropped his bag to inspect the damage like a concerned old farmhand looking over a busted tractor.

“Ahh, the frame’s toast,” he mutters. “This sucks, sugar…”

You blink through the blur. “Everything’s fuzzy.”

“You want me to… walk you back or something?”

“Actually, you’re my seeing-eye boyfriend now,” you say, holding out your hand like you expect it.

He stares at you, face going pink so fast it looks like he was just slapped by the wind.

“Y-you can’t just say stuff like that without warning!!” he sputters, but then his hand grabs yours with no hesitation.

“I mean—fine! I can do that. No big deal.”

Epel is really trying to act cool about it, but his grip is just a little tight, and his ears are red for the first ten minutes of walking.

Unlike the others, he talks a lot. But it’s cute.

“Okay, sidewalk dips here. Careful. And—hold on, lemme go first and check if this puddle’s too deep. You ever step in one’a those and get water all in your boots? It’s the worst.”

He occasionally grumbles at people for walking too close to you.

“Watch it, pal. She can’t see, alright?”

At one point, you misstep and bump your shoulder into a wall, and Epel whips around like he’s about to punch the brick.

“I should’ve warned you! Dangit—sorry, sugarplum. Here, lean on me more, I’ll walk closer.”

He does, too. He even lets you rest your hand on his arm like some kind of prince.

When your new glasses arrive and you slide them on, Epel tilts his head.

“…Yeah. Still just as pretty.”

He pretends he didn’t say that.

You don’t let him pretend.

Your glasses hit the ground. The arm snaps. The lens pops out. You sigh.

Sebek screams.

“DISASTER! UTTERLY UNACCEPTABLE! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN—?!”

You cover his mouth.

“Sebek. Please. Breathe.”

When he finally calms down enough to form words that aren’t shouting, he immediately drops to one knee to inspect the glasses like they’re some ancient relic from Briar Valley.

“This is a serious matter,” he huffs, standing tall again.

“You cannot possibly navigate this campus with impaired vision. What if you trip? What if you run into an obstacle? What if—heaven forbid—you encounter a DISGRACEFUL STUDENF who knocks into you?!”

You blink at him. “So… wanna be my seeing-eye boyfriend?”

He short-circuits for a full five seconds. You could hear the error tone.

“SEEING—BOY—WHAT? I—!” His face is rapidly changing colors, caught between panic, pride...

“W-well! If you insist! Of course it would be my DUTY to assist you!”

And assist he does.

Sebek walks exactly half a step in front of you at all times, loudly narrating your surroundings like a royal town crier.

“WE ARE APPROACHING A SET OF STAIRS. I REPEAT—A STAIRCASE. DESCENT REQUIRED.”

You try not to laugh. “Sebek, I’m right here.”

“I AM MERELY ENSURING MAXIMUM AWARENESS!”

Honestly? For all his dramatics, he’s weirdly good at this.

He even swats someone’s backpack out of your way at one point and scolds them for “failing to consider the visually disadvantaged.”

You almost feel bad when your new glasses arrive and you don them again.

Sebek blinks. “…Ah. You can see again.”

“Yep! Thanks for helping me so much.”

He nods stiffly, trying to hide how flustered he is.

“It was nothing. Merely what any exceptional man would do in such a situation!”

You step closer and kiss his cheek.

He explodes.

[pedroscurls]

at your pleasure (one-shot)

summary: din didn't need a partner, but he can't deny the fact that having you around has helped him complete his missions much faster. after din messes up a mission (which rarely happens), the truth finally comes out.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), unprotected p in v, din keeps the helmet on (obviously), fingering, oral (m! receiving), edging, bondage (din ties reader up), light choking, creampie (oops! maybe? be safe y'all), no use of y/n. word count: 4.1k a/n: please bear with me! this is my first time writing for din ever so i really hope that i captured his characterization to the best of my ability. this is also part of @mushgloomz ppcu smut writing challenge! i got din djarin, trope: colleagues, with edging and bondage. please heed the warnings, it's gonna be a filthy one <3

“You almost died,” you tell him, bringing him back to the Razor Crest with one of his arms draped around your shoulders. He’s leaning against you and he turns his head to look at you—have you always been this attractive? 

“But I didn’t,” he answers. 

“Yeah, because I was there to save your ass.” You shake your head and gently set him down on the edge of your mattress. “Let me just get your bacta spray and you’ll be good as new.” 

“Don’t need you to take care of me.” 

“Well, your actions say otherwise. Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

Din just huffs and grunts in response. From underneath the helmet, he lets his eyes deviate to your ass when you walk away. He wouldn’t admit it but you had distracted him. The mission started out like any other mission—he would hide in the shadows while you did the talking. Your beauty always seemed to get most of their attention so rarely did it ever turn violent. He also knew that you could handle your own—he’s seen it plenty of times. 

But tonight… Tonight was different. He didn’t know when he had started to look at you differently, but when he saw the man get a little too close and touchy for his liking, he ended up ruining the entire plan. 

And the man ended up getting away. 

It was just a mess, and it was his fault. 

By the time you come back, his hands are resting on the was edge of your mattress. His shoulder is in pain, blood soaking through the fabric—it would be his fucking luck that he’d get stabbed just right next to his armor. 

“You know the drill,” you say, motioning towards his armor. “I’ll turn around but you need to let me do this.” 

“I can do it myself.” 

“We lost the bounty because of you, Din!” 

Din. He tightens his jaw—he should be angry at you that you’re using his name, but instead he’s angry with himself. Mainly because his body is reacting to the way his name leaves your lips. 

“We’ll get him.” 

You sigh quietly and turn around. “What got into you tonight anyway?” 

“Nothing.” He answers, standing up to remove his armor until he’s clad in just his undergarments. He places the helmet back over his face and clears his throat. “You can turn back around.” 

You nod to yourself and turn around—your eyes linger on his frame. He’s always been so broad with the armor on, but even clad in just his pants and tank top, he’s so much more muscular, so big, so—

“Don’t have all night,” he interrupts. 

You roll your eyes and walk up to him, standing between his legs when he sits back down on the edge of your bed. He keeps his hands resting on his lap as your fingers delicately—gently—touch his skin. 

“This might sting,” you warn him. 

“Used to it.” 

“Seriously, Din…” you sigh. “What happened tonight? We’ve done this so many times.” 

“Nothing,” he repeats. “Now, can you get on it with it?” 

You tighten your jaw and without warning, release the spray onto his skin. His large hand comes up to grip your hip instantly. 

“Fuck,” he growls.

“You said you were used to it.” 

Din looks up at you from his helmet, tilting his head slightly as his jaw tightens. His hand on your hip remains and you clear your throat as you stare down at him. 

“Was it because he was getting too close to me?” You ask quietly. 

“No,” he answers quickly. 

“Din…” 

“You’re a distraction,” he interrupts. 

“What?”

“You heard me.” 

“How am I a distraction? We’ve handled so many other bounties without any issue before!” You exclaim, glancing down at his hand which only seems to tighten even further around your hip. 

“Didn’t want a partner. Didn’t need one,” he says, ignoring your question. 

“Yeah, we established that already.” You roll your eyes. “But we both know that you’re making twice as much as you are now because you have me.” 

“You’re just getting too friendly and—”

“Just stop, Din.” You shake your head, taking a step back from him as his hand drops from your hip. You find that you miss his touch—you always had felt something for him but he had always seemed so out of reach. 

He stands from your bed and looks down at you. “You need to know when to stop.” 

“Stop?” You ask, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“He was getting too close to you,” Din admits. 

“It’s always part of the plan, Din,” you sigh. “And if he crossed a line, you know I would’ve handled him.” 

“Didn’t like him touching what’s mine,” he whispers. He gazes at you from behind the helmet, hands itching to reach out to you. 

You clear your throat. You can feel your cheeks heating up and even if you’ve never seen what he’s looked like, you can’t help but still feel so attracted to him. Your body reacts to his words—wetness beginning to pool between your legs, throbbing and yearning for him. 

“W–What?” You don’t move, watching him near closer and closer to you. “Yours?”

“Yes,” he mumbles. Din reaches up, gently brushes his gloved-clad hand across your cheek. He sees your lips part and there’s a part of him that wishes he can feel your lips on his, can have you gaze into his eyes. 

But he can’t. 

He cannot show his face. 

“Din…” you whisper. Your heart races faster and you feel his thumb brush against your lower lip. 

“He was touching you,” Din grunts lowly. “And you let him.” 

“It was part of the plan,” you repeat. “It’s always part of the plan.” 

“Not like this. You seemed to like it.” 

Then, he drops his hand from your cheek and grips your hips, turning you around as he firmly presses himself behind you. He leans forward—the coolness of his helmet a relieving sensation along the side of your neck. Your body’s on fire and you can feel his hardening length pressing into you from behind. 

“Din,” you whimper, pushing back against him. You can hear his muffled grunt from behind the helmet. “I was just playing my part… like I always do.” 

Din clears his throat and reaches around you, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure, but he can hear you inhale sharply. You’re still squirming against him, the roll of your hips and your ass firmly pressed against his front causing his other hand to grip your hip tightly. 

“You like the attention, don’t you?” He whispers. 

“Only from you,” you finally admit. “I just wanted your attention. Only yours. Always yours.” 

Din bites back a smile and his hand moves from your throat down to your chest, brushing against your breasts as he skates his hand down between your legs. “You are a distraction,” he repeats. “It’s becoming harder with you around.” 

“What is?” You tease, moving a hand behind you—palm brushing against his hard and impressive length. “This?” 

“Don’t be smart,” he growls. “You’re the only one I ever pay attention to,” Din admits. “It’s dangerous. You are dangerous.” Suddenly, he turns you around to face him and your hand still continues its movement—he’s glad that you can’t see his face because his eyes flutter at the sensation of your hand palming him. 

“And you’re not?” You ask, increasingly gaining more and more confidence. You pull your hand away and gently push him back until he falls back onto your bed. He looks up in your direction, head tilting as you watch his hand move down to squeeze himself—you can visibly see the outline of his length and it causes a pulsating throb between your legs. 

“I’m not,” he huffs. 

“You are.” You answer, watching him kick off his boots before he moves further up on your bed until he’s sitting up and resting against the headboard. You wish you could see his face, his eyes because you begin to pull the ends of your tank top over your head, revealing that you were completely bare underneath. 

“See, dangerous,” he points out, nodding in your direction. Din clears his throat as he watches you push your pants down your legs. Once you stand completely bare and naked for him, he slowly begins to push his own pants down his legs. 

“Not my fault you can’t focus,” you quip back, slowly climbing onto the bed. 

“I can focus just fine,” he grunts. Din sits back against your headboard—now clad in boxers and fitted tank-top as his large hand squeezes his hardening length. 

“Yeah?” You ask teasingly, slowly crawling over to him. You can’t see his face, but you can see the rise in his chest, the grip he has around himself as he squeezes once again. 

“Yes,” he whispers quietly. He lets out a low groan when he feels you straddle his waist. Din can feel the wetness between your legs when you firmly sit on his lap, right on top of his growing erection. He lowers his gaze to your breasts, bringing his large hands to your hips. He slowly feels your hips roll against him and he whimpers, the grip around your hips tightening. 

“Liar,” you whisper, lowering your head to gently move your lips across his shoulder and to his collarbone. When your teeth grazes his soft skin, you feel him flip you over onto your back as he hovers above you. You stare up at him, watching his head tilt and you hesitantly reach up to rest a hand on the side of his helmet. His hand darts out to grip your wrist and your eyes immediately soften—hoping that he can see that he will always be safe with you.

Then, you catch him off guard when you press your lips on his helmet. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he loosens the grip around your wrist. “Din,” you whisper. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you know how much I have thought of this? Of you?” You move your hand and grab his own, bringing it down between your legs. He hesitates—almost like he’s unsure that you really want this but when he feels your slickened folds, something overtakes him. 

His eyes stay directly on you—watching your mouth slightly part when he slowly begins to circle your clit. Then, he hears you let out a quiet moan and it fuels him even further. “Tell me,” he finally answers. 

Your hands move to grip your sheets—it has been such a long time since you’ve felt someone else’s touch. Your own fingers definitely don’t feel as good as Din’s. There’s a part of you that’s afraid to tell him—afraid that he might realize that there’s no coming back from this. 

And you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Your eyes flutter when you feel him apply a bit of pressure to your clit and you’re about to reach out to rest your hands on his shoulders when you feel him grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Your moans filter your small room and it fuels him further—turning his hand slightly so that the tip of his middle finger slowly slides past your folds. 

“Tell me,” he repeats. 

“Din—baby,” you whimper, squirming against his grip as you roll your hips upwards—a sign that you need more.

Din grunts lowly and slides his finger past the knuckle. He can feel how tight and how wet you are and the grip around your wrists tighten even further. “Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me how much you’ve thought about this, about me.” 

Your eyes fall shut and you nod in agreement, feeling him slowly begin to pump his finger in and out of your depths slowly. “T—The way you just walk into a room,” you begin, toes beginning to curl when you feel him slide another finger inside of you. “The way you walk—you know that you’re valuable and oh god—” 

“Keep going,” he demands. 

“And your voice, Din,” you continue. “I know I—I won’t ever get the chance to hear it for real, but fuck!” He quickens his movements—the sounds of his fingers thrusting into your wet heat mixing in with your moans. “I—I just want you to use me,” you admit. “I know there are nights you can’t sleep, days where you can use some release and I wish—I wish you could see that I’m more than willing—”

Din’s fingers immediately slide out of you and he looks down—your glistening arousal around his middle and ring finger. He pushes down his boxers, letting out a groan of relief and he looks up at you hesitantly. He should feel very shy and uncomfortable under your gaze, but instead he feels the complete opposite. He’s clad in only a white tank top and his helmet, but your eyes take in every inch of his frame. He knows that opening himself like this with another person is dangerous—he knows that you are dangerous—but he can’t help himself. 

“You want me to use you?” he asks.

You nod, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him. “I’m at your mercy, Din.” 

From behind the helmet, Din’s eyes soften. He releases his hold on your wrists and moves his hands to your hips, lifting you further up the bed until the top of your head is near the headboard. He then climbs off your bed, leaving your room without a word. You furrow a brow, sitting up your elbows as you sigh, staring at the opened door. You think you must have scared him away, but just as you’re about to follow him, he reappears with a rope in his hand and now only clad in his helmet. 

You clear your throat, heart racing faster in anticipation. You look at him from top to bottom—his tanned skin, chiseled with muscle, hair across his chest down towards his lower half where he’s completely erect and leaking at the tip. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, continuing the conversation before he had left your room.

“Yes,” you answer almost breathlessly. 

Din nods once and walks back in your direction. He climbs back onto the bed, straddling your midsection as he takes your hands and begins tying you to the headboard. “Not too tight?” he asks. 

You shake your head, licking your lips as you keep your eyes focused on his hardened manhood that’s inches away from your mouth. “No,” you answer. 

“Good.” 

You’re about to whine in protest, thinking that he’s going to settle back between your legs, but he surprises you by reaching down with one of his large hands to grasp himself in front of you. His knees are placed on the bed at either side of your chest as his free hand rests on the headboard above you. Slowly, he pushes himself forward until his tip—leaking with precome—rests on your lips. You can’t help but grin excitedly as you part your lips, tongue darting out to lap at his precome. You keep your eyes focused up on him—even though you can’t see his face, you can see the way his chest rises when he inhales sharply at the feel of your mouth now wrapping around his tip. 

Din forces to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of his life. You lift your head slightly off the bed to take more of him and he gets the hint, pushing his hips further as a few more inches slide into your warm mouth. He reaches back behind him, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly. As he begins to circle your throbbing bundle of nerves, the moan that leaves your lips sends vibrations through him. Involuntarily, he pushes even further, the tip of his manhood tickling the back of your throat and your choke around him out of instinct—he pulls away and tilts his head down at you. 

“Too much?” he asks quietly, chest heaving.

“Not enough,” you answer and then lean forward to wrap your lips around him again. 

Din groans and pushes his hips slightly forward into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and another moan escapes your lips when you feel him slide two of his thick fingers into your heat. This time, though, Din pushes even further into your mouth and he watches as your eyes fall shut. God, he could have come right there at the sight of you—mouth filled with his thick and girthy length. 

He can tell that you’re enjoying this as much as he is—the squelching wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you a clear indication that you’re becoming increasingly and increasingly wet with his manhood in your mouth. Din pulls out of your mouth again when he feels your walls begin to tremble around his fingers and your back arches upwards, but as soon as your orgasm arrives, he pulls his fingers out of you and a loud whine catches in the back of your throat.

“Din!” 

A quiet and amused chuckle leaves his lips. “You said I could use you,” he grins. “Didn’t say how.”

“P—Please,” you beg. “I was right there and—”

“Consider it payback,” he answers, slowly moving to settle himself between your legs. His length is glistening with your saliva and he grasps himself to line the head of his manhood at your opening. “For distracting me.”

Just as those words leave his lips, Din thrusts into you fully—burying himself into the hilt. You’re so tight and so wet—so warm and he can feel your walls throbbing around him. His large hands move to your breasts, slowly beginning to caress both into the pit of his palms as he pulls out to his tip only to thrust back into you roughly—it causes your breasts to bounce in his grip. 

“F—Fuck,” you moan out breathlessly. You’re already right near the edge and you wrap your legs around his hips in hopes to keep him sheathed inside of you. Even though his thick length is stretching you from the inside, the pressure and slight pain disappears instantly. 

He brushes his thumbs across your peaked nipples—it’s at this moment Din wishes that he could remove his helmet to wrap his lips around one of them. He squeezes and your back arches further into his touch. Din moves his hands down your sides to grip your hips as he continues to drive into you—it’s like he’s fucking you into your bed, chasing more of your tight and wet walls that slide along every vein across his length. 

He suddenly feels you clench around him and Din immediately ceases his movements, causing another whimper to escape your lips. You stare up at him, eyes glazed over in a mixture of pleasure and frustration. From behind the helmet, he smirks to himself as he reaches down to brush his thumb across your clit. You shudder in response and when you roll your hips upwards for more friction, he shakes his head and uses his free hand to hold your hips down. 

“Impatient,” he mumbles. “And eager, aren’t you?”

“S—Stop teasing,” you whine. “And just fuck me already.” 

Another amused chuckle leaves his lips. “I don’t think you’re the one in control here, are you?”

“Shouldn’t have told you the truth,” you mutter. 

“No?” Din asks, slowly rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb. Your eyes flutter and you pull your lower lip between your teeth. 

The tightness in the pit of your stomach builds even further and you can feel your walls clench around his manhood that remains inside of you. You’re so fucking close and your body begins to tremble—maybe if you listen, maybe if you just submit to him completely he’d finally let you come. 

But he wasn’t your boss. 

You both were equals. 

He was your colleague and you saved his ass tonight. 

“Fuck, Din!” you snap in frustration. “I—I need you to fuck me. Or is this all you got? Hm? Been a while for you that you don’t know how to—”

He growls loud enough for you to hear and he moves his hand back to your hip. He grips it tightly and without wasting another second, he begins to pound into you. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes throughout the room and into the rest of his ship—you can feel the bed creak with each of his movements and your breasts bounces with each push. 

Din slowly moves a hand up to wrap around your throat and you smirk, the corner of your lips lifting when he lightly applies pressure. He looks down between your bodies, watching his length disappear in and out of you—still so slick with your arousal. 

Your walls begin to clench around him and Din doesn’t let up. You feel almost breathless as your climax fast approaches. You shut your eyes tightly as your body begins to tremble—you’d never come as hard as this and Din’s thrusts don't falter and it almost becomes too much. Almost. 

“This is what you wanted, huh?” Din groans, the feeling of your clenched walls milking him closer and closer to his own release. “Is this what you think about when we’re debriefing on a mission, hm?” He pounds into you and you’re so wet that your arousal seeps through where you’re both connected and begins to dampen the hair at his base. It’s so obscene and he can’t help but want more. 

“Or when we’re planning our next one?” Din lets out a quiet moan and he glances up at your wrists, seeing you try to wiggle yourself free. He grins and leans down, removing his hand from your throat as he rests his forehead against your own. He can see the way your breaths fog up his helmet from the outside and your moans continue to filter throughout the room. He’s going to remember this—every inch of your body, every sound you’re making, and the way your body just gives way to him. 

It’s like you were made for him. 

“Din, baby,” you whimper, feeling another orgasm fast approaching. 

That was all it took. The way you said his name, the way you called him baby, it shoots straight to his lower half. His hips falter and become more erratic, but he feels your walls clench around him once more. He has no time to ask where you want it, but he assumes that you’d be fine with him finishing inside from the way your legs wrap around his hips and bring him even further into you. 

Din moves his hands to the headboard as he delivers one sharp thrust, his warmth shooting inside of you and painting your walls. His chest heaves rapidly as his own orgasm overtakes him—his length twitching inside of you as his entire body shivers at his own release. 

He looks down at you and he can’t help the smile that lines his lips when he sees you stare up at him with a look of bliss across your features. You’re both sweaty, bodies glistening and he slowly pulls out of you. He looks down between your legs and watches his come trickle out of you—it causes something animalistic inside of him because he grasps his length, gathers some of his spilled come and pushes back inside of you. 

You whimper, eyes widening slightly in surprise and he reaches up to undo the rope around your wrists. When your hands are finally free from its bondage, he lets out a quiet moan when he feels your touch on his chest—right near his beating heart. 

“Din,” you whisper. 

“Hm?”

“We’re definitely doing that again.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“But this time, maybe I tie you up,” you grin. 

Din let outs a quiet chuckle. “We’ll see, baby.” 

Baby—you smile at that and you lean up to press your lips lightly on his helmet. “You know I won’t take this off, right?” 

Din nods. “I know.”

“And I trust you.”

“I know,” he repeats. “And I trust you,” he admits. “Which makes you dangerous.”

You roll your eyes playfully and slowly roll your hips. You bite your lower lip as your eyes flutter—even as he’s beginning to soften inside of you, he’s still so thick that it causes a quiet moan to leave your lips. “Dangerous or not, Din,” you whisper. “I’d lay my life on the line for you.” 

Din groans and brings a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing across your soft skin. He wishes he can kiss you, can feel your lips on his but when he brushes his thumb across your lower lip, you gently press a soft kiss on the pad of his thumb. 

“I suppose I have a partner from now on,” he says. 

“And I guess I’m stuck with you,” you sigh playfully—lips pulled into a genuine smile. 

You don’t know it, but Din smiles so broadly that for once, he feels like this can be the start of something great. 

[lyn31]

Accident? 🐱😽

Summary:

When you grows cats ears and tails, how would you think your boyfriend react?

Notes:

This is a prompt from @chryssikyu I thought it was very cute, it still are but uh I might've gone overboard? Oops? Well hopefully it's still enjoyable ahahaha Pairing: Zayne x Reader/MC

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It’s just like any other day. You’ve just finished your mission and returned home, standing in your kitchen, grabbing the leftover dinner Zayne made earlier. With food in hand, you hum to yourself as you walk toward the dining table, only to hear Zayne call your name. Then he appears at the door, holding a test tube.

“What is this?” he asks, his face as stoic as ever, but you can see a hint of concern. “Doesn’t look like something you should be bringing home, does it?”

"Ah." A closer look confirms it—you definitely shouldn’t have brought it home. “Where did you find it?” you ask, stretching your hand toward the tube.

Zayne doesn’t hand it over immediately. “In your jacket.” He tilts his head, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s nothing dangerous.”

At that, Zayne lifts an eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah, that shouldn’t have been in my pocket, but I have no idea how it got there.”

“Well, you do have a habit of pocketing anything in your hand.” You can hear the teasing tone in his voice.

You roll your eyes. “I do not!” But his teasing smile makes you pause. “Well… okay, sometimes. But not all the time! Either way, I should get that back to the lab. It’s supposed to help Hunter fight Wanderers, but it’s not quite a success yet.”

Zayne hums, waiting expectantly.

“I heard it’s nothing bad, though. The effect is reversible. The last guy who breathed in the fumes was fine after 24 hours.”

Zayne’s brow furrows. “24 hours? That’s a long effect. What exactly does it do?”

You shrug. “I didn’t hear that part.” You reach out again. “It’s better than most things their research usually—”

Zayne hesitates, his fingers tightening around the test tube before he finally exhales and hands it back to you.

“Alright. I’ll just put it in my pack and secure it properly.”

You take a step forward, but somehow, your foot catches, and—

Crash. The glass shatters against the floor.

Zayne reacts instantly, grabbing your arm and steadying you, his grip firm. But the damage is done. A faint wisp of blue smoke curls upward, and before you can even think to hold your breath, you inhale.

A sharp tickle burns through your nose. Your eyes water. Then—

Sneeze.

Zayne cups your face, his hands warm and steady. “Are you okay?”

You blink against the stinging sensation and rub your nose. “Ugh. All good,” you mutter between sneezes.

Zayne watches closely, scanning for any changes. When you sneeze, his hand steadies you before you even register the movement.

“We’re going to the lab, or the hospital.” His voice is firm, but his touch remains gentle, he slowly leads you forward.

“Ah, no, no, I’m fine.” You stop sneezing now and really do feel… normal. “Like I said, it should be fine. Even if something happens, it’ll go away. We don’t need to go.”

Zayne’s brow furrows further. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

But of course, you just shake your head. “No, really, I’ll tell you if I feel anything, alright? Besides, I want to eat.” You give him your best puppy-dog eyes, pleading.

Zayne scans your face, then your whole body, searching for any sign of distress. After a long moment of silence, he finally sighs, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright. Tell me if anything—and I mean anything—feels different, okay? Eat your meal. I’ll clean up.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before turning to grab cleaning supplies.

With that settled, you return to the kitchen and start eating. After finishing, you wash your plate in the sink. You’re just about to look for Zayne when you feel an itch in your ears. You scratch them absentmindedly as you walk toward the living room. The more you touch them, the thicker and softer they feel beneath your fingers.

Zayne sits at his laptop, fingers tapping against the keys in steady rhythm. The soft glow of the screen casts shadows over his face. When he hears your footsteps, he barely glances up at first.

“Do you still feel—”

Then he really sees you.

His fingers freeze mid-keystroke, his grip tightening around the edge of his laptop before he slowly leans back, his gaze locked on you. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out, as if his brain is still catching up with what he’s seeing..

“What?” You frown, rubbing your ears again. They still feel itchy, weird. “Something on my face?”

Zayne doesn’t answer immediately. He just stares.

That’s never a good sign.

You grab his phone from the coffee table, flipping it to the front camera as you sit next to him. The moment your reflection comes into view, you freeze.

“Oh shit—” You grimace. Slowly, you reach up, touching your ear, half-expecting them to disappear under your fingers. Your face hasn’t changed much, but your ears… they’re clearly different. They’ve turned into cat ears—white cat ears—starkly contrasting with your dark hair. You look at Zayne. He looks at you, he exhales slowly, measured. “…We’re going to the lab.”

Zayne starts to stand, but you grab his arm and pull him back down.

“No, wait! It’s fine. It’ll change back tomorrow!”

His frown deepens.

“Darling, listen.” His voice is soft as he gently touches your ears, making you shiver. “This is clearly not fine. We’re going back to the lab.”

“No, Zayne, really! I’ll just contact them, and you can ask them too, okay?” You really don’t want to get nagged about this. Handling it over the phone is a compromise. By tomorrow, when the effect wears off, hopefully the nagging will too.

You watch his expression shift—his jaw tightening, fingers tapping against his thigh as he debates whether to just carry you to the car anyway. But after a while, he exhales through his nose and sighs.

“Alright. Call away.”

So you call your colleague, report what happened, and let Zayne ask a million questions to make sure you’re really fine. After an hour, the matter is settled.

“See? All good, right?”

Zayne exhales softly, shaking his head. His face stays neutral, but you catch the subtle ease in his eyes—the quiet relief he won’t admit.

“All good, huh? Just don’t leave my sight, alright? We still don’t know for certain.” He kisses your lips—a quick, chaste kiss—before going back to his laptop, glancing at you briefly before returning to his work.

So, you grab the remote and turn on the TV. Truthfully, for the past hour, you’ve been feeling the same itch—not in your ears this time, but lower. And you have a pretty good idea of what’s happening.

And then you feel it. You flinch as an unfamiliar sensation prickles at the base of your spine. Your fingers twitch, reaching back—only to freeze the moment you feel it. Soft. Fluffy. Moving.

Your breath catches, and you shift in your seat, testing the strange new weight behind you. Zayne immediately notices, his eyes flicking to you before trailing downward. His gaze lingers for a moment, then slowly lifts back to your face.

“Well… they did say the tail would show up, right?” you say, voice uncertain as your fingers hesitantly brush over the unfamiliar appendage.

Zayne lets out a slow breath, his brow furrowing slightly. Without a word, he reaches out, resting one hand on your shoulder and the other over yours, stilling your movements. “Anything else feel weird? Any pain?” His grip is steady, grounding, his gaze locked onto yours as he searches for any sign of discomfort.

You shake your head.

After another moment of scrutiny, he gets up. When he returns, he has a blanket. Zayne wraps the blanket around you, his movements careful, deliberate. His fingers brush against your ears, barely lingering before he pulls away.

“Anything uncomfortable?” His voice is softer now, but the concern is still there.

You shake your head again.

He kisses the top of your head and heads to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he’s back with a cup of chamomile tea, setting it gently on the table in front of you before returning to his laptop.

You curl up with the tea, taking a sip. It tastes stronger than usual… or maybe your senses are sharper now. You refocus on the TV.

For a while, the sound of the TV and Zayne’s typing fills the room. You scratch your ears gently. It feels nice. Really nice. You remember how good it felt when Zayne did it earlier. You glance at him, still working, but… shouldn’t he be paying more attention to you?

Yes. Yes, he definitely should.

Feeling restless, you inch closer, nuzzling against his side, seeking his comfort.

Zayne glances at you, ruffling your hair, kissing the top of your head. But just as you start to enjoy his touch, he returns to his laptop.

Pouting, you move closer, pressing against his side, but when he doesn't react, you move with more intent—climbing into his lap, settling against him.

Zayne exhales lightly, amusement flickering in his eyes as his hands automatically move to steady you.

"And what exactly is this?"

Instead of answering, you nuzzle into his neck, arms draping around him. He hums, rubbing small circles into your back.

But then his hands return to his keyboard, and you frown.

Not acceptable.

So you shift, straddling him, tilting his chin up before kissing him—first softly, then trailing down his face, his neck.

“Darling,” His voice is teasing, “I’ll finish this in a bit, then I’ll play with you, alright?”

You shake your head at this, stopping your licking and clinging onto him. You take one of his hands and guide it to your tail. You hear his chuckle, and then he strokes it slowly, heeding your request. The moment his fingers brush your tail, a sharp jolt sparks through you—almost like static electricity. It feels really nice, like an itch finally being scratched.

“Hmm, this does feel like a real cat tail—”

You cut off his words with a sudden purr. The sound vibrates in your throat before you even realize it, and your eyes widen. Wait… did I just…?

His fingers twitch against your tail before going completely still. You feel the way Zayne stiffens when your purring starts—a sharp inhale, his fingers flexing against your hips before gripping tighter. His throat bobs, and for a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he's trying to gather himself.

A slow, teasing sway of your hips earns you a low, involuntary groan, his breath hot against your ear. He doesn't move, but the tension in his body is unmistakable but other than that he still doesn’t move.

“Zayne?” You pull your face from his neck, trying to look at him when suddenly, you’re pushed down onto the couch. Zayne is on top of you, caging you in on both sides.

“This is dangerous, don’t you think?” His voice is much, much lower now, sending a shiver through you.

Now that you can finally see his face, his hazel eyes are more intense, filled with desire that he’s still trying to restrain. The tips of his ears are red. You simply tilt your head at his question, nuzzling against his hand, holding onto it.

You hear him sigh. He touches your cheek, and you automatically lean into him, seeking his touch. So, he tilts your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do?” What a strange question, you think. You’re definitely aware of what you’re doing—it’s not like you’re drunk. So, you keep nuzzling against his touch, holding his gaze.

His gaze flickers, like he’s calculating his choices again. Then, he kisses your forehead gently. Studying your face once more, he asks,

“What do you want, darling?”

His tone is so soft, the same as his expression, making your stomach flip-flop. You take his right hand and place it on your ears.

“Touch me, please,” you say softly, already closing your eyes as his hand makes contact.

And so, he does.

He strokes your ears gently, and you feel blissful—so nice, so relaxing. It feels really good. You find yourself leaning into his touch. He kisses the area just below your right ear, his lips warm against your skin. His hand continues stroking your left ear as he trails slow kisses upward.

You gasp when his lips reach your ear. He licks it, nibbling slightly, and the sensation makes you purr again—something you can’t seem to stop. You squirm beneath him, heat pooling in your stomach.

He chuckles softly against your skin, his warm breath sending more shivers down your spine. His fingers continue caressing your ear, slow and deliberate, as if testing just how much you can take.

“You’re really something else,” he murmurs, his tone laced with amusement and something deeper, something that makes your stomach tighten.

His fingers trail down, brushing along your jaw before tilting your chin up—slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment.

His hazel eyes bore into yours, dark and unreadable, as if weighing his next move. You hold his gaze, your breath unsteady, ears twitching under his touch.

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

“Zayne…” his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper, and that seems to be the last straw.

His breath ghosts over your skin before his lips press against your neck—slow and deliberate.

The contrast is dizzying—the heat of his mouth, the teasing stroke of his fingers against your ear. You shiver beneath him, your breath hitching as his lips travel lower, marking a slow, possessive path.

Then his fingers trace along your tail, and a warm pulse spreads through your spine, making your toes curl involuntarily. Your breath hitches, the sensation sparking deep in your core.

He notices.

Zayne's grip tightens, his palm gliding along the length of your tail with agonizing slowness. Your thighs instinctively press together, heat coiling low in your stomach. His voice, thick and rough, brushes against your skin. "That sensitive, huh?"

He strokes again, and this time a soft whimper escapes you, followed by another involuntary purr. His breath hitches, forehead pressing against your shoulder as he steadies himself before continuing. His teeth grazing the shell of your ear. His free hand presses against your lower back, keeping you exactly where he wants you, but he’s the one unraveling.

Your purring deepens, vibrating against his chest, and you feel his body tense even more. He lets out a ragged breath, his fingers twitching slightly. For a moment, he just lingers there, letting the sound wash over him.

“You keep making that sound,” his voice is rough, almost strained, “and I won’t be able to stop.”

You nuzzle against his touch again, silently asking for more, your tail curling slightly in his grip.

“Then don’t stop.”

He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips for half a second before he exhales sharply—then suddenly, you're flipped over. Your face is pressed against the couch now, your body pinned beneath him. His weight hovers over you, just enough to remind you how easily he could take control. His breath brushes against your ear as he leans in, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

“So, the kitty wants to play?” His voice is thick with amusement, but his eyes are dark with something else.

His words send a shiver down your spine, but before you can respond, his tongue flicks against your ear, slow and deliberate. His teeth graze the tip before he sucks lightly, making you gasp. One of his hands keeps him propped up so he doesn’t crush you, but the other? It slides back down to your tail, this time gripping, stroking with purpose.

A sharp jolt of pleasure runs through you, your body reacting before you can even process it. You arch against him, pressing your hips back, chasing more of that friction.

A strained chuckle escapes him, his breath hitching for a split second before he recovers. His grip on your tail tightens, his hips pressing forward, drawn to the heat of your movements. “Look at you…” His voice is lower now, rougher. His fingers flex, the pressure teasing, almost testing. “So sensitive here.”

His kisses trail down your neck, lingering, slow. He shifts, brushing your hair aside, exposing more skin. The moment his lips reach the back of your neck, he stills, his breath warm against you. Then, his mouth opens against your skin, tongue tracing slow circles before his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm.

A deep sound rumbles in his chest at your reaction. He doesn’t stop, tracing a slow, burning path along your tattoo—licking, sucking, biting—as if branding himself into your skin. The sensation is overwhelming, a push and pull between heat and restraint, between teasing and claiming.

Your fingers find his free hand, gripping it tightly, nails digging into his skin as you writhe beneath him. You don’t even realize you’re pressing back against him again, your body moving on instinct. A low, guttural groan leaves his lips when he feels it—when he feels you.

“Impatient,” he murmurs, but his voice is different now—rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. His hold on your tail shifts, fingers pressing in just enough to feel the way you twitch under his touch. He watches closely, taking in every reaction, his breath stalling for half a second before he strokes again, slower this time—almost like he’s testing both your limits and his own.

You catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye—his hazel eyes, dark and heavy-lidded. His breath uneven as he watches you, drinking in every movement, every sound you make. And yet, even now, he’s restraining himself.

“Stop teasing,” you whisper, breathless. “Touch me properly.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, but you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten, the way his grip on you trembles just slightly. And then, his hand shifts, trailing down from your tail, following the curve of your body, stopping just short of where you need him most.

His lips brush against your ear as his voice drops lower. “You’re making this really hard for me.” His fingers press into your skin, his restraint slipping with every second. “You keep pushing me, and I don’t think you even realize it.”

He exhales sharply, his forehead dropping to your back. His fingers twitch against your waist before curling into a fist, knuckles pressing into the cushion beside you. Then, he shaking his head.

"I need a second," he mutters, his voice strained, like he’s barely keeping himself together.

He stills. The heat between you, thick and all-consuming, is nearly too much to bear. You shift beneath him, silently begging, but instead of giving in, he exhales, slow and controlled.

Then, his lips press against your shoulder—soft, lingering. His fingers, which had been tracing slow, burning lines along your skin, suddenly retreat.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” His voice is low, amused, and maddeningly composed.

You turn your head slightly, trying to catch his expression, but he only smile, his hands settling on your waist in a way that’s possessive yet withholding.

“Maybe I should make you wait a little longer,” he muses, his fingers brushing over your tail in a teasingly light touch that makes you shudder. “See how much you can take.”

Your breath hitches. “Zayne—”

He presses another kiss to your shoulder before shifting back slightly, as if deciding to draw this out just a little more.

His fingers trail lower, gliding down the curve of your back until they brush over the base of your tail. The touch is unhurried, intentional, and when you tense beneath him, he exhales softly—like he’s committing the reaction to memory.

"Still so sensitive," he murmurs, his voice quiet, almost thoughtful. His fingertips stroke over the spot again, this time with more intent, savoring the way your body shifts beneath his touch.

You shiver, pressing subtly into the sensation, but before you can move too much, his palm settles at the small of your back, keeping you in place. His other hand glides over your hip, his thumb smoothing slow circles into your skin.

"You wanted this," he says, his voice a deep hum, warm and steady. He leans forward slightly, his chest just barely brushing your back as his hand slides up your spine, fingertips tracing along the dip of it with aching slowness. "And now you're trembling for me."

His grip tightens—not rough, but firm, grounding you beneath him. Then his fingers drift lower, teasing along the inside of your thigh, never quite where you want them. The anticipation pulls tight between you, each second stretching unbearably.

"You always push," he says, his tone quieter now, almost indulgent as he watches you react to him. His fingers continue their slow path upward, lingering at the curve of your hip, never quite giving in. "But the moment I touch you like this…" His thumb skims higher, barely there. "You melt so easily."

His hand moves back to your tail, fingers tracing its base with the same aching slowness. The movement is tender, reverent even, as if he’s savoring every shift and sigh you give him in return. His other hand rests at your lower back, his touch warm, steadying.

He leans down, pressing the lightest kiss just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "You’re too easy to spoil," he murmurs, amusement lacing his words, though there's something softer beneath it.

Then, with one last slow caress over your tail, he chuckles, low and teasing. "I should keep you like this a little longer."

The words linger between you, a promise, a challenge—one that sends another shiver down your spine. But when he shifts forward again, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck this time, there's no mistaking the warmth in it, the quiet affection woven into his every touch.

Like he has no intention of letting you go just yet.

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[cookiescribble]

Choose Me, Love Me

A/N: oops got a little more angsty than usual 😬 i had this in my head for a while and finally was able to write it, so I hope it came out well! (also I have no idea how guns work but i’m just going to pretend that i do for the sake of the plot 😅) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your temper runs high after a miscommunication during a case, making you feel like your relationship is in trouble. (based on 1x18)

CW: angst (that gets resolved), anxiety, jealousy.

~~~

It had been a long day. 

You came to check on Spencer when you had a lull in your schedule, since you knew he was the only one in charge of watching the victim. You figured he might be having a hard time with babysitting duty. 

Instead, you came in to find the house completely empty. This immediately gave you an uneasy feeling, so you took out your gun as a precaution. It was currently loaded with blanks, since you didn’t want to shoot the victim as a knee-jerk reaction if you were surprised. 

You cautiously walked through the house, a feeling of dread creeping through you. Eventually, you found the backyard doors wide open, and you approached them tentatively. You saw movement in the pool, but you didn’t have time to feel relieved that everyone was alive and safe. 

You saw Spencer, in the pool, being pulled in by his tie, looking like he was about to kiss the woman he was in charge of protecting. 

You felt a surge of emotions so intense you couldn’t even identify all of them; anger? Jealousy? Resentment? Anguish? Heartache? Whatever you were feeling, it wasn’t good. 

You couldn’t even rationalize yourself before acting; it was almost as if your body was moving on its own, since your mind was overloaded with emotions. Suddenly you were pulling out your gun, shooting a blank right at the edge of the pool, away from the both of them but close enough to make them jump. 

They practically jumped out of their skin in fright, probably thinking the unsub had come while they weren’t paying attention. They turned to look at you, your gun still pointed at the pool. A mix of confusion and annoyance was on the girl’s face, but Spencer looked practically petrified, his eyes wide and remorseful. 

You looked at both of them before you spoke, spitting out venom with each word because of how angry you were at that moment. “You’re lucky the unsub isn’t here. You would both be dead before you could even react.” With that, you just turned to walk away, striding back into the house. 

You heard Spencer calling your name, his voice strained and emotional. You didn’t turn back to look at him. You couldn’t. You had to hold your breath to stop yourself from sobbing. 

You heard Derek and Elle approaching from outside the yard, saying something about finding paparazzi taking pictures in the bushes. You heard their voices quickly getting quieter and quieter as you were angrily striding away, but you could still hear their confusion. 

“What’s wrong with her?” You heard Elle ask. “What the hell did you do? She’s pissed.”

You heard footsteps starting to follow you before they were cut off, and you could picture Derek putting a hand on Spencer’s chest when he said. “Kid, I know you don’t know women that well, so let me tell you: do not follow her right now.”

“But-“ Spencer’s voice came out shaky, agonized. “I have to talk to her-“

“No, you don’t,” Derek cut him off. “Not right now. You’re only going to make things worse. You can’t rationalize your way through that kind of anger.”

You guessed his words got through to Spencer, since you didn’t hear anyone following you after that. 

You strode through the house until you reached the car you drove here in, getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind you. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself before hitting your hands once against the steering wheel. You put your head in your hands, biting your tongue to keep yourself from yelling. You couldn’t even cry; all your thoughts were jumbled in your head, your heart thrumming so hard in your chest you thought it was going to burst out of it. 

You sat in that purgatory of emotions, sometimes letting out tearless sobs, wanting to scream but having the slightest self control and just containing the sound to sobs. After what felt like a very long time, you heard your cell phone go off, indicating you have a text. You pulled it out of your pocket and looked at the screen:

HOTCH: Come to the station. Now. 

You huffed, throwing your phone in the passenger seat before starting the car. I guess word got back to Hotch already, you thought. 

You tried to compose yourself on the drive back to the station, attempting to figure out some kind of excuse for why you shouldn’t be fired. Hopefully you didn’t have to resort to begging. 

You walked through the station, trying to keep an even pace and a level head. But every time you remembered what you saw, you were filled with anger all over again. By the time you got to the door, your emotions were at a loud simmer. 

Hotch was sitting at a table in a closed off room, looking up at you as you walked in, his face as stoic as always. He gestured to a chair across the table from him. “Sit.”

You closed the door behind you, swallowing and taking a deep breath. This felt like being called into the principal’s office and being grounded by your parents at the same time. 

You took your seat across from Hotch, crossing your legs, trying to compose yourself as he spoke directly. “Care to explain yourself?”

You gritted your teeth as you remembered what happened, the anger making your blood boil all over again. “I went to check out the situation. They were being careless, so I wanted to show them that they needed to be more careful.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, but there was still a hint of animosity. 

“They were being careless?” He raised an eyebrow at you, his voice stern. “You don’t think firing a gun that close to an agent and a victim is just as, if not more, careless?”

You flared your nostrils, angry and ashamed all at once. “I fired a blank-“

“And that’s the only reason  why you’re not fired right now,” he cut you off. “I should be writing a termination letter right now, and I would be if there were real bullets in that gun.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “They were out in the open while the unsub, who I don’t think I have to mention has been shooting people in the head, was out looking for the victim. I was trying to protect them.”

He looked at you the whole time you spoke, boring holes into your face. You didn’t even think he blinked this whole time. 

His voice was still stern, but it was now a bit quieter. “Really? Are you sure this is about the safety of the victim, and not your personal relationship?”

You let out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. The team had recently found out about your relationship with Spencer, so there was no avoiding this question. “No,” you lied. “It’s not personal. All professional.” There was no point in lying; he’d be able to see right through you. But you couldn’t admit to your boss that you were tempted to shoot a victim because she put her hands on your boyfriend. 

Hotch’s expression never changed, but you could tell he didn’t believe you. “I don’t want you out in the field for the rest of this case.” He held out his hand, and he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was asking you to give him your gun. 

You reached for your holster and placed the gun in his hand, more forcefully than you should’ve. “Can I go now?”

He started to stand up, but spoke sternly before he did. “This is a job that cannot let actions be clouded by personal feelings. Your judgment needs to be impartial and professional, and not dictated by emotions. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded curtly, letting out a deep breath before replying, “Crystal.”

He nodded back at you, standing up and motioning towards the door. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

You walked out the door, rubbing your face with your hands, the stress from the day making your whole body tense. 

You started to walk towards the exit when you heard a voice addressing you. “So, how screwed are you?”

You looked over to see Elle, who probably eavesdropped on most, if not all, of the conversation. You sighed, shaking your head. “Well, I still have a job. That’s about the only good thing that has happened today.”

She leaned on the wall, crossing her arms. “Why’d you do that? What happened?”

You buried your face in your hand, feeling the surge of anger again. You didn’t even try to hide it this time. “I went to the house because I figured Spence could use some help, or at least some company. But when I got there, that… that…” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from calling her every bad name you could think of. “She was all over him, and if I didn’t do something she would’ve kissed him.” You sucked in a breath, feeling like tears were going to start coming if you didn’t hold your breath. 

She nodded, waiting for you to finish before speaking. “And? Would it really be the end of the world if that happened? Just a little kiss?”

You crossed your arms, your nails digging into your skin. “I just… I couldn’t let it happen. She’s this gorgeous Hollywood model, actress, whatever. If she’s interested in him, why would he want to be with me?” A sob escaped your lips involuntarily as you admit what’s been in the back of your head this whole time. “And I really don’t want that to happen, because… I love him.”

“Have you told him that?” She asked, her voice light but serious. 

You paused before shaking your head. Your relationship with Spencer was still relatively new, and you hadn’t exchanged “I love you”s yet, even though you felt it every time you looked at him

“I think it’s time you do, then,” she replied. “If it’s this important to you.”

You just nodded, knowing she was right. You wanted to tell him for a while now, but you were scared. Scared of your own feelings, of his potential reaction… everything. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I… have to go back to the hotel. I’m gonna take some time alone to think.”

She waved you off, nodding, and you finally walked back to your car, knowing you needed to sort this all out in your head. 

…

You were lying down on the hotel bed, alone with your thoughts all day, and you hadn’t heard anything about the case from anybody. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten when you heard a soft, familiar knock on the door. 

You held your breath, hoping that he would go away if you didn’t answer. You sat in darkness for a while, ignoring when he asked to come in. Finally, you heard a click in the door and you cursed silently, forgetting you had given Spencer a key to your room when you got here. 

You couldn’t look at him, opting instead to look at the wall opposite him. His footsteps were slow and careful, as if he were approaching a rabid animal. “… Please,” he started, his voice quiet and meek. “Just let me explain what happened today.”

You crossed your arms, still looking away from him. You knew he was making those big, pleading eyes at you, and you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that right now. You kept silent, but you didn’t make him leave. 

He saw that as a good sign, and approached you, sitting at the edge of the other side of the bed. “Listen, nothing happened between us.” He spoke quietly, his voice level but sincere. “I didn’t know what was happening. I was panicking, trying to think of how to politely turn her down, but everything was happening so fast and I…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “… I messed up. I admit that. But I didn’t mean to.”

You listened to his voice, which somehow still sounded like music to your ears even though his words were filled with remorse. You just stayed still, taking everything in, not trusting yourself enough to try to respond. 

He tried to move into your line of sight, standing in front of you, but you kept your head down. 

“… I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me, just…” His tone was so dejected, and you could tell he was truly pouring his heart out. “… Please, look at me.”

You took a deep breath, slowly picking your head up and meeting his eyes. He was making the exact face you expected, his big, sad eyes silently begging you to say something. 

You tried to search for any words to say, but they all got caught in your throat. Your lip started to quiver as a tear finally fell from your eye. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I…” you started, shaking your head as if that would put all your thoughts in order. “I don’t…”

You opened your eyes to look at him again, and you could feel all your anger crumbling, disappearing all at once. Which only made it feel worse. His somber eyes made your heart ache, and you just couldn’t be the cause of them anymore. After a pause, you patted the seat next to you, and he moved to you immediately, like a puppy commanded to sit. 

You took a deep breath, looking down. “… I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, obviously. I was way over the line.” You wrung your hands together, staring at them as if they were the most interesting scenery right now. “I just, seeing you with her… I felt like all my fears were coming true. That you wanted someone else… someone better than me.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks now. “I know I’m not as pretty as her, and I thought, why would you ever want me if someone like that is within reach?” You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head. “I never thought I could feel jealousy like that, but… every bad thought I’ve ever had about myself came rushing through my head, and I thought for sure I was going to lose you.” You swallowed hard, finally looking at him again, letting the words roll off your tongue before you could take them back. “And I couldn’t bear it, because… I love you.” 

You could hear his breath hitch, bracing yourself. For what? Something bad? Something good? 

He looked straight into your eyes, his hand tilting your chin up towards him. “I love you too,” he spoke, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “And I would never replace you with anyone. You’ll never need to be jealous. I barely even gave her a second glance, and I only did because I had to protect her. It’s my job.” He wiped a tear off your cheek, his touch gentle and slow. “If I thought she was going to come onto me, I would’ve asked somebody else to go to the house.”

You could finally breathe again, the tears in your eyes now happy ones after hearing his words, a confession of love. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and he pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice radiating such warmth and affection. 

“I love you,” you said again, as if testing the sound it made, like tuning an instrument. It sounded better each time you said it. 

You just sat there in each others’ arms for a while, neither of you speaking a word, just letting the feelings sink in. After a while, once all the tension faded, you both pulled back, looking at each other and smiling. 

After another few moments, you spoke lightheartedly. “I’m really glad you feel the same way, because I definitely almost got fired over this.”

He laughed softly, slight concern in his eyes. “But you didn’t, right? I still get to see you at work every day?”

“We’ll see,” you responded. “Hotch said we have to talk again, so… I’m not out of the woods yet.”

He hugged you to his chest, a hand running through your hair. “I can vouch for you. Maybe it’ll help.”

You smiled at the affectionate touch, leaning into it. “How about you talk to him, and I just skip it altogether?”

He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I love you, but I can’t perform miracles.” 

You stayed together the rest of the night, even sleeping in the same room even though you never did that when you were out on a case. It was like you didn’t want to be apart now that you both understood your feelings better. You felt like you could get through anything together now. 

[box-of-roses]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾Dolled Up‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Characters: Suga, Kageyama, Akaashi, Semi, Atsumu (you can find Oikawa in the captains vers of this -> here)

Warnings: None that I can think of

Synopsis: How the Haikyuu setters react to you getting dressed up for their game

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this <333 I love these hcs lol enjoy the setter vers :) (the request)

Suga

I think he’s also a blushy boy

Gets so excited when he gets subbed in bcs I think he would feel sad if he didn’t get to play while you’re all dressed up

The moment Suga sees you he can feel his face heating up. He’s almost glad he isn’t playing right now, he’s not sure he would be able to play properly with you looking so cute. He was wondering where his extra jersey went and he finally found his answer, you’re wearing it. He kind of freezes in place and misses what’s going on in the game because you’re smiling so brightly and look so cute while you’re cheering. 

After the game he runs up to the barrier between the stands and you come down to greet him. “My love, you played so well,” you say leaning over the railing to speak to him easier. 

“Don’t lean over the railing where you could fall.”

“You would catch me.”

“Maybe, might let you fall and learn your lesson.” You roll your eyes and go over to the stairs. He sees his number on your cheek and your pom poms much clearer when you’re in front of him.

Definitely feels like he plays better when you’re there

He’s coming over to the stands at the end of the game and looking up at you asking you to come down

Literally looks at you in awe 

Kags

Is able to concentrate on the game unlike some of the others on this list lol

Yells at you flustered because he was very close to not being able to play correctly anymore

He sees you at what he would call the worst time. But it could’ve been much worse. He had just set the ball and he’s landing back down when he sees you with your sign and how loud you’re cheering. He knows it’s over for him when the others see you (how could they not you were cheering pretty loud).

“Did the King finally con someone into being his queen?” Tsukki teases during the small pause. His face grows warm and he sends a glare to Tsukki.

“I didn’t con them.” he grumbles under his breath. He looks up at you again and sees you grinning at him and looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. He gives you a small smile back.

Do it again (he loves is but will act like he doesn’t)

Deals with the teasing from everyone else bcs they most definitely tease him

Atsumu

I would like to think Osamu actually sees you first and bursts out laughing (not bcs you don’t look good pookie but bcs of how Atsumu is going to react)

Quickly tells Suna to start recording because this is about to be comedy gold

Sees you when he’s serving (oops)

He throws the ball up and then it hits him on the head bcs he malfunctions when he sees you

Osamu lets out a small laugh and covers his mouth, the team is warming up currently, when he sees you. He elbows Suna and points in the stands to see you waving down at them and then point to your boyfriend. “Sunarin, start recording this is gonna be hilarious.” He whispers to the other as Suna nods and pulls out his phone with a smile. “Hey scrub!” Osamu calls out to his brother.

“What do you want? I’m in the middle of doing something!”

“Nothing, you’ll see later then.” He did try to warn him. He didn’t say he would try very hard so he just looks back at you with a shrug. The minute Atsumu goes to serve Suna zooms in while recording. When Atsumu throws the ball up he makes the mistake of finding you in the audience. Needless to say everyone was laughing as they watched his face turn red and the ball hit him on his head. 

Doesn’t have it in him to yell about you messing up his serves (he’s too shocked to anyway lol)

Semi

Malfunctions when he sees you

Luckily he’s not playing so he has time to collect himself

Unluckily Tendo also sees you and he knows he’s done for

Cue teasing and him trying to act like it didn’t have an effect on him

Semi sees you when they’re doing stretches to get ready to play. He pauses mid stretch, which gets him yelled at, and before he can compose himself Tendo also happens to see you. “Oho? Semi Semi, why didn’t you let the rest of us know you had such a cute little cheerleader?” Tendo teases as they stretch.

“Exactly that, they’re my cheerleader.” He glares at Tendo but then his face softens when he sees you wave slightly at him. He waves back with a gentle grin on his face. When he waves back he sees how your face lights up and you quickly gesture to your outfit and poster. You were going to be the death of him, he’s sure. 

“Save some for the rest of us.” Tendo rolls his eyes as he watches the exchange. 

Very happy that you’re cheering for him and it gives him more confidence when he plays again

Asks you to do it again but let him know and maybe he can help you get ready next time :(

Akaashi

I think he would handle it well

(of topic but-) kissing his hands before the game???? Yes pls

He sees you before the game because of that and needs a moment to collect himself

One of the lucky ones that gets to see you before he even goes on the court. He’s not as bad as Bokuto where he needs to be told there’s as girls cheering him on in order to play better. But he can’t lie when he says it’s definitely a welcomed surprise. “Y/N?” He after you come up to him. He takes a moment to fully appreciate your outfit, the bracelets, the pom poms, his jersey. 

“Oh no, is it too much?” You ask as you cover your mouth in surprise. He immediately shakes his head and grabs your hands in his.

“No, it’s perfect.” You smile and bring his hands up to your mouth and place a gentle kiss on each finger. If he wasn’t flustered before he certainly is now, even though you do this before every game. 

He’s another one who’s able to focus on the game but only because he saw you beforehand

Will kiss you when he sees you (he’s so in love omg)

I hope you guys liked these <3 my askbox is open but beware that I write like once and drop off the face of the earth for like a month lol

rules

masterlist

[mangooes]

Yoga Session and a husband

(Name) regretted this decision.

Deeply.

Like, on a spiritual level.

Yoga was supposed to be relaxing. Stretching, breathing, centering herself… not whatever Sylus was turning this into.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” Sylus purred, lounging behind her with zero struggle as he effortlessly held a pose. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her struggle, lips curved in a lazy, teasing smirk.

(Name), meanwhile, was dangling in an inverted position, one leg thrown over his shoulder, arms trembling as she attempted to maintain balance.

"Can you not??," she gritted out.

Sylus chuckled, his grip firm on her waist as he supported her. "Such language, kitten. Yoga is supposed to bring inner peace."

“I’ll bring you inner violence.”

Well you might be wondering...how did it all started?

It began with (Name) trying to drag Sylus into being a ‘healthy’ couple, a trend she had seen on the internet, all her friends and co workers are doing it. Of course she had to drag her husband to do it with her too.

“Come on, sysy,” she had said that morning, straddling his lap while he was still in bed. “We always do intense stuff. Let’s try something peaceful for once.”

Sylus had arched a white brow. “Peaceful?” He yawned dramatically, stretching like a lazy cat. “You do realize you married a criminal boss, right? And why would yoga be fitting for me if i do boxing all the time, sweetie?”

She rolled her eyes with a pleading look. “Pretty pleaseee syy?? I swear it will benefit you in some way! Just acompany me on doing it.”

“Oh?” His smirk widened. “And what’s in it for me, kitten?”

She leaned in, nose brushing against his, voice sultry.

“If you behave,” she whispered, "maybe I’ll wear those cute yoga shorts you like."

Sylus was up in two seconds.

And that was how she ended up dangling upside down like a cat caught in its mother's paws.

They had started off simple—breathing, stretching, basic poses.

Then Sylus, being Sylus, decided to “help” by testing their flexibility.

So now they were in the Couple Inverted Chair Pose, where Sylus held her waist while she arched back over his knee, her hands barely touching the floor.

A perfectly elegant pose. If only she wasn’t one wrong breath away from falling.

“I swear,” she huffed, face flushed from effort, "you’re enjoying this too much."

Sylus, not even breaking a sweat, tilted his head, all innocence. “Enjoying what?”

She glared. “Me struggling. You’re supposed to be focusing.”

“I am,” he mused. “On how adorable you look.”

She gasped when his hand slid a little lower down her waist, fingers grazing her hip.

"Sylus!" she shrieked.

He grinned lazily, completely unapologetic.

"Oops," he drawled. "Slipped."

She kicked him.

Unfortunately, that also made her lose balance.

"AHH—SYLUS!"

She tipped over, and Sylus— still laughing, the absolute menace caught her just before she hit the mat.

She landed sprawled on top of him, her hair a mess, her body pressed against his.

There was silence.

Then—

"...See?" he murmured, voice husky against her ear. “I always catch you.”

(Name), still breathless, narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah?" she muttered, straddling his lap now. “Then let’s see how you handle this.”

Before Sylus could react, she pinned his arms down, grinning wickedly.

“Oh?” His eyes darkened with amusement. “Feisty.”

"Time for revenge," she declared.

And that’s how their yoga session ended with Sylus getting ‘accidentally’ sat on for the next ten minutes. Of course its more of a reward for him. He enjoys it when his wife takes the lead.

when i tell you yoga is very very hard KJDASDNASKJ I DID IT ONCE and i am never doing it again <3 This was inspired by a yoga couple pose i've seen on pinterest and it feels like (yEAH sylus would deff ruin this) everywhere i go i see sylus-

[guywhowatches]

An Office Interview (Part 2)

You stood there, staring at the door, hearing a mumble chattering that you were unable to make out properly. It sounded like a lot of talking and even laughter, which made you feel nervous for some reason. You could still smell the stink of Mr Richards previous blasts clogging up your nose, and it was only making you feel worse. You were genuinely starting to wonder if this should be your cue to try and leave. However, as you were starting to properly think about this, the door handle turned and the door swung open.

As it did so, you were hit with another wave of stink, which reeked of eggs and rotten vegetables. You did your best to stifle a cough, as difficult as that was. What on earth was that smell, and why was it coming from inside the office? As you slowly tried to recover, you looked up to see Mr Richards smiling at you.

"If you're ready to come inside, we'll give you the interview." The way he was smiling at you made you feel uneasy. But yet again, you felt too worried to say no to him for some reason. So, you nodded and walked inside, trying to hold your breath hoping the stink would dissipate. You couldn't understand how the others guys in here weren't suffering like you.

As soon as you stepped inside, you heard the door slam behind you and it truly felt like there was no going back now. Ahead were the same 2 guys you saw from earlier looking at you. They were both also around the same size as Mr Richards. Was every guy here just a large muscle bound beefcake? It made you feel a little small in comparison.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you." Said the one on the right, as he walked over to you to shake your hand. As he came over to you, you got a good glance at him now being in full view. Your eyes then widened as you noticed that he also had quite a large behind, similar to Mr Richards that was barley contained by his suit pants. He also had a stubbly beard along with slick brown hair. He then grabbed your hand and forcefully shook it whilst eyeing you up and down.

"I'm Mr Brown, and I think you're just what we need right now." He said, still smiling. You gulped a little. Was that a good thing or not? You couldn't tell. He then turned around and walked back to the desk, giving you a full view of his large bubble butt jiggling with each step.

As you were almost fixated on this, you didn't even realise that the other man was now standing next to you with his hand outstretched. He also wore a nice suit and had a tangle of blonde hair. You quickly reacted, shaking it back. His grip was a lot softer than Mr Browns.

"Lovely to meet you, I'm Mr Rodgers. Between you and me, I'm hoping to get you to myself the most." He said with a cheeky grin, before turning back around, giving you a view of his own large butt. You weren't sure of how to feel about that.

"Right then, if you're ready then we can begin." Mr Richards stated, leaning against the desk with a serious look. The other men stood beside him, Mr Brown with focusing on you and scratching his chin whilst Mr Rodgers was smiling and looking as though he was trying to contain laughter. It was all very curious. But you quickly tried to become formal as possible.

"Yes, so can we start with what my role is here. I'm unsure of what it is I'm doing, so I want to discuss-" But I was suddenly cut off by a rumbly, bassy noise.

PPPPPPPPPPPPAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

It rang out for a good few seconds before dying down. I looked up a little shocked. I looked around the room, to see all 3 of the men looking as though they were trying to hide a smirk. Mr Rodgers was doing it the worst, as he was covering his mouth with his hand.

"Oops, excuse me. The eggy salad I had for lunch doesn't seem to be sitting well with my stomach." Said Mr Brown, in a tone that didn't sound all that sorry. This noise disgusted you and you were about to question, what the meaning of this was, when you were cut off again.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAPPPPPPPPT

"Ooh, seems like it's really going right through me." Mr Brown said, now smirking and wafting his hand behind his bottom. You couldn't believe this was happening, especially whilst the others still appeared to be smirking at this. What kind of behaviour was this.

Then, the eggy stench from Mr Brown's backside blast began to creep into your nostrils and it was particularly bad. It was a bit too much for you to handle. You let out a cough and tried to subtly waft your hand in front your face to disperse the smell, with little to no avail. As you looked up, you saw that the others were still somehow unaffected by this. You desperately wanted to get this back on track.

"Yes- *cough* well... can we get back to the meeting please?" You desperately pleaded.

"Oh yes, of course." Said Mr Richards rolling his eyes. What was he annoyed about? "You see, we've bought you here because-"

FFARRRTT

A short but powerful fart blasted out his butt, interrupting him. "Oops, there she goes." He said with a smile on his face, leaning against the desk, sticking his bum out and straining a little.

PRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPT FFRRRRRTT RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPTTT

Three short, but powerful farts rang out across the room. You stared in almost horror as he shamelessly continued to fart loudly in what was supposed to be a serious meeting. He then let out a sigh of relief before standing back up again.

The scent from it was now mixing with Mr Brown's gas and it was making your nose hairs burn. You weren't sure you could even open your mouth without you feeling like you could taste it.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTT

You looked over at Mr Richards, expecting him to be the cause of the noise again. However, you noticed that he was looking Mr Rodgers now, who had a big grin on his face.

"Oh, looks like I have fart to. Hey look..." He said excitedly. "I'm shaking my booty." He then let out a grunt whilst shaking his wide hips from side to side.

FRAAAAAAAAARP FFRRRRRTT RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPTTT PRRRRRRRRRRRAPP

As he shook his bottom, the farts bellowed across the room. It was starting to become too much for you. You began to choke as you felt yourself slumping on the floor, your brain unable to focus properly from the lack of clean oxygen. As the stench overwhelmed you, you looked up to see all 3 of the men looming over you, now grinning somewhat meanly.

"You may as well know what you're job is now." Mr Richards said, still smiling down on you. "You see, around here, we're all pretty gassy and sometimes the stench can become quite overwhelming. Here, have a smell." Then, to your terror, he proceeded to cup his hand over his backside, and let a hollow fart onto it, before bringing it over to your face. The stink was unbearable and the smell of cabbages accompanied it, making your eyes water. Mr Richards just chuckled meanly at your reaction. "You see, or rather smell?" He chuckled again at his own 'joke'.

"It's not the worst thing ever, but it does get pretty inconvenient when we're all together trying to have a meeting, especially on Taco Tuesday." Said Mr Brown, also smiling. "So, we need someone who's able to sniff our farts for us, so that we don't have to get distracted by them. A fart cushion if you will." You felt your heart skip a beat. Surely they couldn't be serious?

"Yeah, and you've stayed awake longer than the other testers." Said Mr Rodgers excitedly. Is that really all you were to them, a test subject? "Hey guys, I still have some farts left. Shall we really put him to the test?" You silently begged for them to say no, as you felt like you were going to be sick. Sadly, this was not the case as they all turned around and pointed their large bubble butts at you. Worse still, you saw them all began to pull down their suit pants, exposing their white underwear at you. Even worser was the fact that each of their boxers had a brown streak stain on them in the centre. This was too much for you.

"Ready guys? 3"

"2"

"1"

There was then a chorus of grunts from the men, followed by a symphony of flatulence.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTT

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

BBBBBBUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT

PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTT

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUPPPPPPRRRRTTTTT

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTT

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

BBBBBBUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT

It was all too overstimulating for you. The sounds, the smell, even the taunting laughter coming from the men. You couldn't do it. The smell of a burning dumpster, combined with sewage, eggs and cabbage filled the room. How were none of them effected by this, when you felt like you would pass out at any second?

Finally, after 2 whole minutes of this, the rumbling bassyness finally died down and you were laid upon the floor. Somehow you were still conscious, though you really wished you weren't. The three of them just stood over you, looking satisfied.

"Well, he lasted pretty long, I'd say he's got the job." Said Mr Richards smiling, causing the other 2 to nod in approval. Oh no, you thought to yourself. No, you couldn't have, you wouldn't. You would be out of here as soon as you were conscious enough, you had to. This truly felt like hell, and you wanted no part of it.

"Phew, well, after all that gas expelled, I think I need to take a dump." Said Mr Brown, patting his slim belly.

"Oh yes, absolutely." Said Mr Richards smiling back at him.

"Me three. You guys up for a game of battleshits?" Asked Mr Rodgers almost excitedly. You really didn't want to know whatever that was.

"Why not? I know I'll win anyway." Said Mr Brown smugly as he walked out the room.

"Maybe, but it'll still be fun to play." Mr Rodgers exclaimed excitedly. Before leaving, he then turned over to you, still lying on the ground. "Oh, I sure hope I get to use you soon. It's four-bean chilli for lunch tomorrow and that always gives me a fierce case of bubble guts." He said giggling, before heading after Mr Brown. There was only Mr Richards left, who turned down to look at you, still smiling meanly.

"I think you'll make a great addition to the business. See you in a bit." He then turned around, and squatted his ass right in front of your face, giving you one last shot at his magnificent bubble butt, before blasting off.

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

The sound rang through your ears and the stench instantly hit you. It was the final straw before you passed out. The last thing you saw was Mr Richards walking out the office, slamming the door behind him. You were petrified to think of what they would do to you when you woke up again.

---------------------------------------------------------

Hope you guys enjoy :)

[miyaz6ki]

thorny arrival. sunday x dom!gn!reader. I didn't finish the story quest for hsr, I just know the characters + their backstories.

warnings: I used the terms cock/etc for reader but you can imagine it as strap as well 🪽

when your boyfriend shows off his newest outfit, you wouldn't admit but it was definitely attractive.

especially when you saw him out and about, fighting along side you. where did those thorns come from? you have no idea, yet it's what led you both to now.

"a- ahhn- fffuck!!" he moaned out, so much so for sultry, this definitely could be it's definition. you acknowledged how lewd it was, his hands above his head tied with the very vines of thorny assault to his wrists as you only turned the toy inside him up more.

"'m sorry.. i- i really am- nnhh-" the whines of his voice go unheard as you temporarily lowered the intensity using the remote. "you knew what you were doing, baby." your hand ran over his erection momentarily, rubbing you thumb over the slit of his cock, lifting your hand back up to taste the saltiness.

he looked as if he was in a frenzy—which was partly true. his sons were loud, as you briefly parted his mouth using one of your hands, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb—the same one you used to have a little taste with.

you gave him a rough kiss one the mouth, he tasted a lot sweeter than how nasty the head of his cock looked at you.

it drooled, veins popped up. shit was it a sight to see.

"look at this tip, so fuckin' naughty." a pang of pain was slapped across his base, making him shudder, only getting even more turned on.

your finger just... oops! I guess it slipped. turning the toy up to the third most intense setting before setting it down to take things into your own hands (literally)

the touch of your cold fingertips that slowly warmed up, feeling his cock up and down, he couldn't help but suddenly arch his back at the sudden contact. especially with the extra vibration to add onto his pleasure.

maybe he wouldn't mind the feeling of being overwhelmed with all these new feelings. you knew it'd calm him right back down anyway.

"haaah- fffuck- mmf!" is all you could hear emit from the small background noise that resembled white noise when it was actually the toy, his moans, and whimpers interrupting your train for though every now and then.

"tryna warm up real nice with that new trailblazer, are you now?" you crept up to his ear, lifting him up briefly by his waist to place his figure onto your lap.

"c'mon, tell me. or are you too busy getting fucked dumb by a toy?" he couldn't even reply to your sassy remarks, simply leaning his head into the slot next to your neck.

"m- mmhmm... m'sorry I r- really am... please." his pleads fell on deaf ears as you only admired his body, and how it reacted in the mirror. you sensed he was about to peak when you decide to take it away all of a sudden.

"ahhn- p- please! fffuck I'll be good, I swear."

you hum, kissing his cheek gently. "promise?" is all you muttered out, by the time his orgasm already went away. he sighs pensively. slowly starting to drag your palm over his cock once more, making him start to whimper again.

"y...yeah I really do. please? need you inside—" and before he knows it, you already have him flipped onto his stomach, his ass up in the air for you, cock only throbbing harder at the sound of your belt unbuckling.

definitely in for a treat now!

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour: Day 3

You’re feeling petty, so sending Jungkook nudes is how you get your revenge on him for leaving you.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.212

Warning: jungkook getting clowned, face riding, oral sex, smut, simp jungkook, dirty talking, ass slapping, shit talking reader bs that's what she does, slight sexting

You ponder what life would be like if you lived with Jungkook - the weekend is long and waking up besides the man felt nice. He cooked breakfast after allowing you to sleep in, you two eating together. You’d shower, spend the day together (sex came randomly in between) and then go to bed.

Work was a task you’d dreaded, but you’d refuse to give up so quickly, even when Jungkook agreed to your joke of quitting, stating that you could always live off of him - an agreement the man was too quick to settle for.

Even after your boring, easy job, you acted as if it was the worst day of your life. Jungkook had bought takeout to make up for it and you were content for a while.

And now, you and Jungkook are in his bathroom, you attempting to concentrate on your task. You were dressed in nothing but a black silk robe - a gift from Jungkook - the both of you fresh out of the shower. He has a match one that he tied loosely around himself.

“Is it supposed to burn?” Jungkook asks, opening one eye to look at you. He sits on his closed toilet, you directly in front of him.

“If you ask me that one more time, Jungkook, I swear-”

“You want me to fuck you so bad, Y/N.” Jungkook closes his eyes, his hands reaching out for your waist to bring you close to him. 

You groan, squirming out of his reach. “We’re doing face masks.” you deadpan, your mind not comprehending how the man could be thinking about sex at a time like this. “Nothing about this is sexy, Kook.”

Jungkook scoffs - he begs to differ. There was never a moment Jungkook didn’t want you - but he was a man and maybe that was just the way his body reacts around you. He’d remain quiet, however, to make you any more irritated with him. Your irritation only fueled his sexual desire.

“‘Kay, done.” you lean back to admire your work on Jungkook’s face. Now the both of you matched - both sporting a cream colored face mask. “Our skins going to be so smooth when we’re done!” you squeal, and for a moment you’re excited - until you see the smile on Jungkook’s lips. “Ugh, didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I like doing things like this with you.” you quickly scoff.

Jungkook cackles at your fraudulent change of tune. “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N.” Jungkook snatches your waist this time, bringing you closer to him. He then stands.  “Give it a few more months, baby, and you’ll finally admit it outside of sex.”

“Fuck off.” you murmur, hands pushing Jungkook back - even if you didn’t put that much force into it because you actually did like his embrace.

Jungkook brings his face closer, the need to kiss you heavy. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, a loud banging noise sounding throughout his home. His eyebrows furrow. “Someone’s at the door.” he says aloud. “Be right back.” 

You turn away from the man to clean up the mess you’ve made. As you turned on the water to clean the silicon brush, Jungkook takes it upon himself to slap your ass.

“Jung-” you swung around to snap, but Jungkook’s already out the door and down the hall, a loud trail of laughter echoing behind him.

Jungkook makes his way towards his front door, not caring about his appearance as he swings it open. 

“Oop, jump scare.” Jimin walks past him, shoving three large pizzas in his arms. “Why do you never answer your phone?”

Jungkook is dumbfounded as Hoseok and Taehyung steps in, as well, and for a moment he thinks about what he’s going to say.

However, Jungkook remembers that it’s Sunday - and Sunday’s were movie nights. He swallows the lump in his throat. 

He didn’t need Jimin knowing that you were here - not because Jimin hated you, it was quite the opposite. Jimin loved you (from afar) and your antics. He liked you and him together, stating that you made a good couple. 

Jimin knowing that you were here meant that Jungkook forgot about the weekly movie night - and then he’d have to hear Jimin’s mouth about how “pussy was worth more than the friendship” as he liked to put it.

“I was, uh, showering.” Jungkook responds, closing the door behind Hoseok. “Where’s Joon?” he questions, as if he wasn’t the one who lost track of his days. 

“Running late.” Jimin takes off his shoes and proceeds to go to the living room. “I wonder what’s new on the streaming services. Not like I’d know…” he trails off, side eyeing the younger male.

“You’ll have to get over that.” Hoseok snickers, taking his seat beside Jimin. “We all know Jungkook would find a girl that would take all his time.”

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, placing the boxes of pizza on the coffee table. 

“Ah, yes.” Taehyung sits on one of the leather chairs, a boxy smirk on his lips. “So…did Y/N teach you any new tricks?”

“Or is barking all you do?” Jimin scoffs, then proceeds to go out in full laughter, followed by Hoseok and Taehyung.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. It was bad enough he had to hear it in the groupchat. This was a moment they’ll never let him live down.

“I just want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Y/N has to be doing something lethal to have you bark-”

“It was a joke.” Jungkook hisses. “Pick a movie while I take this off.” he murmurs, making his way down the hall and back towards the bathroom. Jungkook opens the door and eyes you, face mask already off. “So, we have a dilemma.” he mumbles, coming towards the sink.

“I heard Jimin.” your arms are crossed. “Is he talking shit again?”

“It’s Jimin.” Jungkook scoffs. He begins to wipe the face mask off of his skin, scrubbing aggressively. “I forgot tonight was movie night.”

“Movie night?” you furrow your brows. “But I thought you said we were continuing Law & Order?”

Jungkook sighs. He turns off the water and turns towards you. “I did,” he admits. “but we have movie nights every Sunday and…” he trails off.

“And…” you shake your head, not comprehending. Jungkook grabs a small hand towel and wipes his face “...you’re saying fuck Lieutenant Olivia Benson? Because you want to watch a lame ass movie?” you cross your arms, even if you couldn’t be upset about it. You just wanted a reason to give him shit.

Jungkook licks his lips and smirks. “You’re so jealous, baby. I knew you’d-”

“Ew. Go watch your lame movie with your lame friends.” you push him away, fighting the smile stretching on your lips when you feel his hands on your wrist. “I’ll be in the room, I guess.”

Jungkook pokes his head out the bathroom door to assure no one was looking. Then, he drags you towards his room and shuts the door. “I’ll sneak you some pizza.” he murmurs. He rushes towards his closet to change into clothes.

“I…I can’t come out?” you scoff in disbelief. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “They’ve been cooking me in the groupchat and when they walked in. You walking out will only be my 13th reason.” Jungkook is dressed in under a minute, a black shirt and iron man pajama shorts. He comes towards you when he sees your wide eyed expression and wraps you in a sudden embrace, peppering your face with kisses. “I’ll let you sit on my face later.” he murmurs.

“You do that everyday.” you deadpan.

“Exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “So you’ll be okay for a few hours. I’ll try to kick them out after one movie, though.”

Again, Jungkook slaps your ass, but this time brings you in for a kiss. He’s out the door before you can say anything further. You eye his bedroom door for a moment and scoff with a shake of your head. 

“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks when he strolls through the living room to see Namjoon. “Did you find a movie yet?”

“Got here a minute ago.” Namjoon responds.

“Haven’t been on here in so long. Forgot how to work the app.” Jimin retorts.

“Eventually you’re going to have to get over it.” Jungkook makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a plate. He then walks back towards the livingroom to gather a few slices of pizza for you. 

“Forget about the ultimate betrayal?” Jimin scoffs. “Never.”

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, eyeing Jungkook. 

“I’m just saving myself some pizza.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Might be hungry in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond.

Jungkook makes his way down the hall and back towards his room. “Special delivery.” he scurries in to drop the plate on his bedside table. “I can’t  wait for you to sit on my face later.”

“Don’t think you getting any pussy after keeping me in this room.” you retort, not removing your eyes from the screen. 

Jungkook snorts. “We’ll see about that.” He doesn’t have time for a petty argument, because that would only turn it to him fucking you into the mattress - and now, he didn’t have time for that.

“Since when do you eat in your room?” Hoseok questions as Jungkook returns, a confused look on his face. “Since I got lazy.” Jungkook responds without a second thought, sitting next to Namjoon. “What are we watching?” Jungkook is barely able to focus on the movie. He eats a couple slices of pizza, his eyes watching the movie that his mind refuses to acknowledge. He would rather be with you watching Law & Order - he knows by now you two would be cuddling. You would rub your ass against him slightly, pretending to be occupied with the show and that would be his que to-

“You don’t look interested.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and then turns to Namjoon, the source of the voice. 

“Just thinking.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“About Y/N?”

Jungkook cracks his neck, only snorting. 

“Jimin told me you were whipped. Didn’t tell me you couldn’t go a day without thinking about her.” Namjoon teases, his dimples deepening when he smirks. 

“Are you two talking about Y/N?” Jimin crosses his arms. He’s laying against the arm of the couch, his eyes piercing at Jungkook. 

“I sense one sided beef.” Taehyung calls.

“Because of her,” Jimin starts, and Namjoon groans, having heard this rant time and time again. “I was removed from all the streaming services. Not just one - all.”

“I gave you several warnings.” Jungkook grumbles. 

Hoseok snickers. “Like what?”

“I told him when Y/N usually watches her shows.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“You give her access to streaming services so she can watch True Crime.” Jimin deadpans, an unamused look on his face. “When you end up on one of those documentaries because she slipped something in your drink-”

Jungkook sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Can we watch the movie-”

“- and murdered you, Jungkook. I will be on there telling the audience that there was red flags.”

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his lap. He unlocks it, your name popping up.

Y/N 🥰: does jimin want to fight me?

Jungkook smirks.

“When are you going to admit you like Y/N?” Jungkook asks as he responds to your text. 

“And while we’re on the topic,” Taehyung pauses the movie. “how did you get her mother’s number?”

You were only curious in the conversation outside the bedroom once you began to hear speaking. You never turn down an episode of Law & Order, and thankfully you had. You were told by Jungkook that Jimin liked you - his words now say otherwise.

You were growing bored. The pizza was already gone and Jungkook didn’t bring you anything to drink.

But the most important thing was that you were bored - and feeling petty. 

you: I miss you

You didn’t miss him - you were bored and that’s different.

You watch as Jungkook reads the text instantly and begins typing.

kookie 🍪: i miss you too 🥹😍😏

you: can’t tell

you: you’re shit talking me with your lame friends

kookie 🍪: never. I got jimin to admit that he likes you more than he admits 🤙🏻

kookie 🍪: are you hungry still?

You grunt. You couldn’t be petty with Jungkook if he was offering to feed you.

you: no

you: just bored…

You bite your lip as Jungkook types. You suddenly open the camera app and take a picture. It’s a simple picture, you smiling in the camera.

Jungkook swallows, his eyes zoning in on the picture of you. Your robe was opened slightly more and he has a peak at your breast. 

“If it wasn’t for me he’d still be in the friend zone probably leasing cars for her attention.” Jimin retorts at Taehyung. Hoseok laughs at the comment. 

kookie 🍪: you’re so beautiful ♥️

kookie 🍪: the robe is nice on you

kookie 🍪: i can buy you more if you’d like

You snicker at Jungkook’s response. The man didn’t know what to do now and his first option was to spend if it meant that you’d send him more pictures.

“I feel like I should be compensated for my hard work.” Jimin exclaims. “Who else can say they got Jungkook out of the friendzone?”

“They were fucking. Don’t think that’s just a friend zone.” Namjoon announces. “Raw at that.”

Y/N 😍: i seem to be the topic of conversation tonight

Y/N 😍: i wish you were as interested in me as your friends are 🤭

Jungkook glances up at his bickering friends for a moment before texting back.

kookie 🍪: im beginning to think i spoil you if you cant be without me for a few hours… 😌

You’re taken aback by the tone in the message. As if you needed him - you didn’t. You were just bored and feeling a little confrontational today. 

Besides, Jungkook wasn’t going to have the last word.

“I still want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok adds. “Whatever she’s doing that has Jungkook worshiping the ground she walks on needs to be studied.”

“That or you’re just a pervert.” Taehyung shrugs. 

Jungkook glances down at his phone and coughs. Eyes turn to him suddenly and Jungkook stands. “I-I’m not feeling…my stomach hurts.” he makes his way down the hall and goes to open his bedroom door.

You giggle when you hear the bedroom door twist.

You’ve locked it before sending Jungkook the picture. You were already naked, mind as well use it to your advantage.

kookie 🍪: oh

kookie: open the door

you: enjoy your movie night

You hear the door knob shuffle once more. 

kookie 🍪: open the door

kookie 🍪: stop ignoring me baby

kookie 🍪: i can always break the door down

kookie 🍪 : then they’ll know you’re here

kookie 🍪: and hoseok already wants to be a fly on the wall

kookie 🍪: and i have no intentions of stopping once i have you on my tongue

You flung the door open with wide eyes. “Are you-”

Jungkook pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. “Just sit on my face.” he grumbles, hands pushing you backwards.

It doesn’t take long for your robe to be discarded on the ground. He takes in your naked sight and sighs with a shake of his head. “So needy.” he murmurs, laying down on his bed. “You missed me, huh? And it hasn’t even been a full movie length.”

“Did not.” you reject, pussy already in his face.

Jungkook clenches both of your legs. “Is that why you’re already wet?” his tongue licks your clit and hums. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, baby.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond, he’s already diving head first into your. He suckles and slurps loudly, his hands keeping you in place. This time, he doesn’t care if you preferred him to now watch - he does anyways. His eyes are intense on watching you be pleasured by him - the cute needy moans, the fucked out look on your face. He wanted to experience it all.

“Your friends are gonna know you’re gone.” you whimper as Jungkook laps his tongue slowly between your folds. 

Jungkook leans back only slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions.

You shake your head, and that’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. His right palm slapped your thigh. “Then I won’t. Now just ride my face until you cum.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his excessive need to make you cum.

However, you do as you’re told. Your hips buckle against his tongue, your head falling back - mainly to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. It was his favorite part, he once told you, to watch you cum. 

Jungkook’s tongue feels amazing - and it’s the same tongue. It shouldn’t feel better than the last time, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the way his hands rub along your thighs as you ride along his tongue - or maybe it’s the way he grips your breast and pinch your nipples that are an added bonus. 

Jungkook’s hands never stayed in one spot. They’re soon cupping your ass to encourage you to grind against him harder - how he never suffocates is beyond you.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Jungkook hears you hiss and he squeezes your ass even harder. His own breathing increases as he watches you - he can do this for as long as you wanted. You were so beautiful when you were aroused and cumming - it’s a sight he has engraved in his mind.

“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook says muffledly. His head bops back and forth, in rhythm with your grinding. He also knows how you enjoy the way he touches you, your ass being your favorite part. He probably will never know why girls enjoyed pain mixed with pleasure, but he was nothing but a man made to pleasure you.

So, Jungkook slaps your ass encouragingly, making sure to give it a good grip after each slap.

You needed to know what it was about Jungkook - and his tongue, fingers or cock - that has you cumming so harshly on his tongue like he wants you to; and even then he refuses to stop until you’re twitching.

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to fall back like you want to, his hands grasp your twitching form and assures that you’re placed on the bed.

Licking his lips, Jungkook smirks. “My pretty girl.” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to continue my movie night, okay? Then I’m going to come back here and you’re going to sit on my face again.”

You nod your head lazily, not having it in you to argue. 

“I knew you were so down bad for me, baby.” Jungkook teases. He places the blanket over your naked body. “One day, I won’t need to fuck it out of you for you to admit.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss when Jungkook is half-way out the door.

“Trust me. I will.” Jungkook chuckles, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a state of arousal and anticipation.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good dick, fingers, tongue and heart.

Series Masterlist

@suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

[sundrop-writes]

are you currently open to doing reactions for teen wolf characters? cause if you are i’d love to see how you think stiles & allison would react to seeing a fem reader naked by accident hehe

yeah, as it says in my Rules, I love doing reactions and MLTs (especially cause they're fun, shorter fics that I can write quickly in order to get to know the characters better. they're a lot of fun)

so here we go

Requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN!!! Please read the rules first, though <3 also vote in this poll if you like Teen Wolf fics

How would Stiles Stilinski and Allison Argent react to seeing you naked by accident?

Warnings: mentions of sex/arousal/sexual desire (characters wanting to fuck the reader after seeing them naked), sexual themes but no explicit smut, reader is described as having breasts/is called a 'girl', mentions of Scott/Allison, mentions of Jackson/Reader (background, unimportant), mentions of the reader taking nudes/nude pictures, Allison's section is way longer than Stiles's oops (but that's because I've never written for her before and I got excited).

Stiles would be coming to visit you on a random Saturday - something that he did often. And after letting himself in with his spare key and bounding up the stairs to your room, he would hear music coming from your room and think nothing of simply letting himself in. He could imagine that you were cutely dancing in your pajamas, using your hairbrush as a microphone - something that he would tease you for, but secretly loved.

He hadn't even thought to knock. The two of you were so close - best friends since you were in diapers, having grown up together, gone through everything together.

So when he opened the door and found you standing at the foot of your bed, naked, rubbing lotion over your skin almost sensually - a towel in a rumple at your feet as you had clearly just gotten out of the shower - in seconds, it changed his entire perspective of you. Seeing your gorgeous breasts, the roundness of your thighs, the perfect swell of your ass, the softness of your stomach - it put nothing but downright filthy images in his mind. And in seconds, you went from being his dorky childhood friend to a woman he now desperately wanted to fuck.

He didn't get to stand there for long and stare before you noticed him, but the image of you so beautifully bared was easily seared into his mind forever.

"Stiles?!" You screamed when you noticed him in the doorway, and he felt so terribly caught.

His instinct was to turn and run, but he was dumb from the amount of blood pooling in his cock. He tripped over his own feet and rammed headfirst into the doorway - hard. He became dizzy from the hit fell to the floor within seconds, groaning loudly in pain (and embarrassment) as he clutched the bruise blooming on his forehead.

You rushed to pick up your towel to cover yourself, and then rushed to see if he was okay.

"Oh my god, Stiles." You sighed, kneeling down by his side. "What is wrong with you?"

Well, he could add 'intense sexual desire for his best friend' to that list now.

Allison loved having you over at her place. Between the chaos of dating and not-dating someone that her family had vowed to kill, and being trained by that family to kill others of his kind in the most traumatic and tiring way possible - you were a breath of fresh air in her life. You were the soothing relaxation she needed among the chaos.

She invited you over as often as possible because of this. Whether it was dinner with her family, studying, sleepovers where the two of you talked all night and ate junk food - you were over at her house often. Her family knew that the two of you were the best of friends, and they loved you because you were a smart, respectable, normal girl.

On this night, the two of you were having a regular study session. Nothing special - just sitting on her bed going over some homework. More so, enjoying each other's company in quiet while you worked individually.

"Do you have the notes that Mr. Hoffman wrote down today?" Allison asked you, looking up from her book. "I know he didn't want us to do all the problems, but I can't remember which numbers he wrote on the board."

"I took a picture of it." You told her, unlocking your phone and passing it to her. "Just flip through my camera roll, you'll find it. I gotta pee."

You slid off the bed and left her room for the bathroom, and she opened your camera roll looking for the picture of the blackboard that you had taken. She grinned when she saw that the first picture was of a random squirrel that you had seen outside during lunch. Very you.

Then - a picture of Stiles making an ugly face. Of course. He had stolen your phone during lunch. Then - Scott and Stiles. More Scott and Stiles. Then, pictures of your outfit that you had taken in the bathroom that morning at school. Then - wait, what?

A picture of you naked.

Allison's insides tensed.

It was a gorgeous picture of you, and though she felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to see it, she couldn't stop staring. You were laying on your bed, the morning sun pouring in through the curtains - it had probably been taken before school that morning. The picture showed everything from your collar bones to the tops of your thighs, your arm holding the camera high up to get a good angle of your amazing body.

Your breasts relaxed and your nipples peaked (it had to be from you teasing them up for the picture and not from the cold air, your room was always soft and cozy), your stomach so wonderfully soft, your pussy on display - showing off the dusting of pubic hair that you had their. Your knees pressed together, presenting your thighs in a soft, alluring position.

It made Allison's throat dry.

Before she could even think to keep looking for what she had actually needed, you came back into the room.

"Hey," You grinned at her as you moved to sit by her feet at the end of the bed. "You find it."

One thing that Allison knew by now - lying was useless and something she absolutely hated. You were one person in her life that she upheld honesty with as her greatest treasure.

"No." She said, taking a moment to re-moisten her mouth with saliva before she continued. "But - I found this."

She turned the phone screen toward you and your jaw dropped slightly before snapping shut again with a harsh sound.

"Oh." You breathed out. "That." You paused for a moment. "I - uh. Sorry you had to see that."

You took back your phone from her and locked it, staring at the floor with shame.

"I'm not." Allison said quickly. "You - you look beautiful."

It would be a few days before you fully unpacked what she had meant by this. Even Allison herself still hadn't fully acknowledged that she felt anything more than friendship for you.

You nodded. "Thank you." You took another moment. "I - just - I'm sorry it's awkward."

Allison nodded. She wasn't sure why she didn't feel as awkward as you did.

"Well - who was it for?" She couldn't help but to wonder.

She could only assume that you had taken the picture with the intention to send it to someone.

"Um, well... it was for Jackson." You told her.

The two of you had been texting a lot more frequently since he had broken up with Lydia.

Allison frowned.

"You are way too good for him." She insisted.

And that was the comment that stuck in your mind - that truly got you thinking about what your relationship with Allison meant.