#but it shows her puppy muscles nicely

[abirddogmoment]

18 (?) week stacks, still very leggy but almost dog shaped

[cupidhoons]

HIS CHEERLEADER

SUMMARY You and Heeseung are friends with benefits. But, why did you have such an effect on him? PAIRING sports player ! heeseung x nerdy fem ! reader (slight jake x fmr) GENRE oneshot & highschool! au, romance, fluff, f2l WARNINGS y/n and heeseung are said to be fwb, heeseung is down bad for you, kissing, swearing, grammar errors, bad writing of sports, lmk if there's more!

"STOP LOOKING FOR HER."

Heeseung whipped his head towards Jake, his expression cross. "I'm not looking for her. She's probably not coming to watch anyway. She doesn't like these types of environments." Heeseung looks down and fidgets with his fingers. "Though, it would be really nice if she came. I'd do better on court." His lower lip coming out without him intending to. Jake laughs at his best friend's sorrowness.

"You look like a lost puppy when you talk about her. Are you sure being 'friends with benefits' is all you want?" He questioned while making air quotes around friends with benefits.

Heeseung defends himself. "We aren't even doing that! We just kiss sometimes and that's it, but it's not a big deal."

Jake narrowed his eyes toward Heeseung. "So, if I said that Y/n was hot and I wanted to take her out one day, you would be okay with it?" His jaw clenched as he looked at Jake. "No, I wouldn't be okay with it. You can't do anything with her or I will-"

"Okay okay! It was a joke Heeseung. I wouldn't actually go for your girl." Heeseung's cheeks burn at Jake's last words. His girl had a pretty nice ring to it. There was no denying that he wanted to make you his.

"Y/n isn't my girl. She only sees me as a friend and sometimes we like to try things."

"I don't understand why you're so interested in her. She's pretty, but she's the complete opposite of you. She's got the brain and smarts and you are...well, Heeseung."

Heeseung looked down. "You aren't supposed to understand when you like someone. It just happens." Jake laughs at his friend before shaking his head. "So, you do like her."

"I don't."

"Yeah, and I don't have a dog named Layla."

"Fuck you." Jake laughs hysterically as Heeseung walks to the court and plays with the volleyball in his hand. His heart hammers in his chest as he gets ready to serve. But, he hears a voice pierce through the air.

"Go Heeseung!"

His focus is suddenly disrupted and the ball goes straight into the net. Fuck. Heeseung's eyes go wide. Even though there's tons of people cheering his name, it's different when he hears your voice. He malfunctions a bit. Why did his mind turn into mush when it comes to you?

"Hey lover boy, get your shit together!" Jake exclaims as Heeseung shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows. When did you have this effect on him?

You sat on the bleachers as you watched the boys play. You didn't expect to come, but you chose to be there for him because he was so excited to watch him play. Besides, you needed a change to setting considering that you were always in your room.

You watch as your friend serves again, and the ball goes in the air this time. You see that a lot of girls are here to cheer on the guys, and it's pretty obvious that a lot of the boys got the girls that want them. You wonder if anyone else has eyes for Heeseung.

You wouldn't be able to complain about it, he's cute and has an attractive build since he played sports. His muscles show that he's been working out and his tank top of revealing all of it. He looks perfect.

You can't also deny that you have eyes for your best friend, you find him attractive. Sometimes, you think that you feel a little bit more than you should. And it scares you, just a bit, though.

"Hey Y/n!" Jake says walking towards you during their water break. You smile as you hand him his bottle. "Hey Jake! How long have you been out here?" He settles himself beside you as you scoot over a bit for him. Heeseung's friends are so incredibly fine, there was no denying. "Mmm I'm not sure, maybe since nine? I don't know...But, I should tell you something."

You go closer to him and the glimpse him and see Heeseung staring at you both. Jake has a glint in his eyes that tells you he's about to cause trouble. How silly Jake is. "I'll tell you later since Heeseung is coming over. But," He puts his mouth by your ear and whispers. "I think Heeseung doesn't really like it when I talk to you alone. I think he might have feelings for you." Your eyes grow wide and Jake giggles at your reaction. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

You smile shyly at him as Heeseung replaces his spot when Jake leaves. "What's up with him? Did you touch you?"

"No. Well, not in an uncomfortable way anyway." You nod. You feel him put an arm around you. You freeze.

He might really like you.

What's wrong?" He notices the way you look bewildered.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Anyway, go play for me." Heeseung laughs as you slightly nudge him.

"Do you want me to show off or something?"

"Why not? I get to have the man that everyone wants." You scrunch your nose. There was a funny thing about you being her at his games. The way you would just say the flirtiest lines for fun to taunt him made him feel weirdly happy.

When he needed motivation, you were his solution. You pushed him to his limits, and he didn't know why. Maybe he wanted to show of just a little to make you proud. But, he loved when your smile seemed to be wider when you saw him. He wanted to see that everyday.

So, with courage, you finally let it out. Jake gave you a boost of confidence into saying what was on your mind, so you wanted to try. "Think of it this way, if you win this one for me...I'll go out with you. For real this time. Not as friends, but something more." Heeseung's jaw went slack as the words left your mouth.

The blush was evident on your face as the moment passes by, but Heeseung finally get his senses back and beams.

"I would love to go out with you as something more." You smile at his answer, thankful that he didn't reject your offer. You suppose you owe Jake for this. "Then, play well for me babe."

Now, it's Heeseung's turn to be blushing. You didn't know where you got the sudden pet name from, but you sure did love seeing a flustered Heeseung in front of you.

"I sure as hell will." He nods his blushing head.

You watch him walk back to the court. Jake look at you with a knowing glance. He knows damn well that you did something during the break. You feel like your sudden boldness came out of nowhere, and you weren't sure what to think of it. It's funny how a single guy can make you feel so giddy inside.

As the match begins, you watch as he dives for the ball to keep it up. When spiking it, he makes sure he gives it his all. Jake continues to glance at you from time to time, trying to understand what exactly you did to make his friend play harder.

With every hit, he looks over at you, who gives him the biggest smile. He feels euphoric.

THE MATCH ENDS in the next hour. The Decelis team destroyed the other side with a 2-1 game and the last set with 25-14 points.

He really tried this one. Your eyes are wide as his team starts to cheer and yell in victory. The girls from the bleachers running towards the group to congratulate them and probably ask them out. You see a few girls crowding around Heeseung, who seems to not care at all. His focus is on you and you only.

You laugh at him struggling to get through the crowd around him. You find it a classic that he had girls crawling to him as you still sat on the bleachers. His eyes on you, a wide grin drawn on his face because he knows what's coming. He rejects the girls asking him out and nearly trips on his way to you.

"You don't have to rush y'know. I don't wanna ruin the party." You say lightly as Heeseung pulls you up to your feet and presses his lips on yours. You're shocked by the sudden intimacy from your friend. You can hear Jake screaming at you two and it makes you want to laugh, but you can't. Not when Heeseung is kissing you like your his last breath in front of everyone. He's putting all his emotion into it.

You feel his arm snake around your face as you push him away. He chases your lips and you groan. "You are so sweaty Hee! Get off!"

"No. Not when you're finally mine." He holds you tighter to his body. You grab the towel around his neck and start to wipe his sweaty face and arms. You giggle as you lock eyes with him.

"Are you that in love with me? Your eyes say everything."

"Duh, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we became friends. Why do you think we were experimenting with kisses and couple-y stuff?"

"Well, I don't know. I just thought you wanted some fun." You shrug as he frowns.

"I wanted to ask you out first, but you beat me to it. And, I didn't like it when Jake basically made out with your cheek." You laugh at his remark. "I really did! Made me want to die knowing my girl let a guy kiss her cheek!" He added, making you laugh even harder. You whack him and push his clingily self off you to get your things.

"So, about that date? Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere with you there. Also, promise me something." You nod as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Your heart feels like it's about to explode and its freaking you out. You see Jake across the court putting his thumbs up for you two. He's happy that you two finally got together. Heeseung kisses your hand and you blush harder than ever.

"Be there for me when I need you. Come to my games and kiss me often. I'm more of a physical guy y'know."

"I know, and I promise." You laugh and kiss him again.

As he stares down at you, Heeseung knows he made the right choice with you, His mom likes you, and you get along with his friends. You are only girl for him. You loved him for him, you were in this for him. He couldn't be any happier to know the girl of his dreams is finally his girlfriend and his number one cheerleader.

END.

NOTE hi :) if you made it this far, then thank you so much for reading and i hope enjoyed!! please like + reblog cuz it'll really be appreciated!! thank you sm for reading, and hope you come back to my blog for more of my works!

BACK TO THE SHELF !

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — Simon Riley x Reader

cw: toxic situationship, emotionally unavailable Simon, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Simon is canonically in his late 30s).

wc: 2,027 | Part II

“Shh, shh.” Simon can feel his heartstrings being forcefully pulled, the image of you crying, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cling to him for dear life, your fingers gripping his black hoodie.

“S'okay. I can introduce you to some o' my mates.” The look of exasperation you shoot his way is enough to make him try to hold back his laughter, knowing it's not appropriate. Part of him feels bad, but the other part defends itself by telling him he warned you.

Simon Riley doesn't do love. He doesn't do feelings— he's a dog, too tainted and dirty for someone like you, too doomed. He doesn't deserve you, and yet he can't stop crawling back to you despite the heartbreak he sees in your pretty eyes the moment tells you he has to leave.

“I don't want 'em.” His attention is dragged back to you, the whiny tone making his gaze soften despite himself.

“Can you just... fuck me like you love me? I don't care if it's fake, I just...” Another choked sob escapes your lips, soft fingers tightening their hold on the fabric of his hoodie. Simon doesn't say anything— there's nothing he can say to make it better for you. The one condition to your situationship was broken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to abandon you, not when you look up at him like a lost, needy puppy.

“Y'can pretend it's love...” He offers, his tone lacking any mirth or empathy, not when his lips are busy going down your neck, trying his best not to leave any marks or be too rough with you, fighting his own nature for your sake.

His scarred, pink lips travel down your bare body with a gentleness meant to soften the blow of his emotional unavailability, trying his best to counter the heartbreak, secretly hoping that he can slowly mend your broken heart.

“I'll be nice to ya.” His hot breath hits your bare stomach, making your muscles tense up at the sensation, an unwilling shiver running up your spine at the tenderness of his words and actions, something he never showed you when he used to fuck you.

“Treat you like the proper angel y'are.” Simon's guilt is pushed to the back of his mind the moment his lips plant against your clothed mound, his calloused hand going up to your stomach to gently push you down the moment your back arches, wanting to keep you nice and still for him. To take care of your needs, for once.

Simon is a patient man. A patient man, who runs his warm, wet tongue over your clothed cunt, paying especial attention to your hardened clit, only making the knot in your stomach tighten by the second, fingers lacing on his short blond hair, pulling him closer. The display of pure neediness makes Simon's lips tilt up into a small, soft smile despite himself.

His hands explore your soft legs, squeezing softly every once in a while just to reassure you that he's still there. That he's not going away for once. He can feel your muscles twitch beneath his palm, almost mirroring his neglected, throbbing cock.

Simon's warm hands sneak to the back of your thighs, subtly feeling up your ass with the pads of his fingers, slowly sinking into the fat and muscle before he's pulling your legs up, soft kisses planted on your pretty inner thighs, even going as far as to give them gentle love bites, knowing you don't care if he leaves marks— not when your slick is seeping through the fabric of your panties, ready as ever.

“Needy fuckin' girl.” His touch is as gentle as it could be for someone whose hands are used to responding with violence and aggression, sneaking up to the waistband of your panties, pulling down enough to reveal your glistening cunt, not minding how the black cloth was left neglected, hanging on your ankle.

Just like a man starved, Simon's wet tongue darts out of his mouth to give a long, sensual lick against your folds, savoring the taste of your slickness. His rough hands grip your hips to steady you, no longer minding the way your back arches from the pure pleasure he's giving you. He takes a second to admire the sight in front of him, his hot breath fanning against your cunt.

“Good girl.” His skilled, hungry tongue delves between your folds, lapping at your wetness with a need that matches your own. He explores every single inch of your pussy, his tongue flickering and swirling over your hard, swollen clit. His free hand reaches up to fondle one of your tits, his fingers digging into the fat as he devours you.

Simon's hips rock softly against the mattress, looking for any sort of possible relief for his hard, throbbing cock, neglecting it until he can't handle it, hesitantly letting go of your sweet cunt, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his strong, muscular arms. Your soft hand goes to his tattooed arm out of pure muscle memory, earning you a small smirk back.

“You want it, angel? This fat fuckin' cock inside you?” His hips jerk involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, his hand going down to his zipper out of habit, lowering it just enough to pull out his cock— until he realizes that he promised to make love to you, not to fuck.

With slight hesitation in his movements, Simon gets up from the bed, brown eyes watching your reaction with such focus you'd think he's a predator ready to pounce on its prey... and in a way, he is.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he starts to discard his clothes until he's completely bare and vulnerable, something he's never done before for anyone. The way your gaze softens as your eyes examine his scars almost makes him want to put his clothes back on— to leave and to never come back. Simon doesn't deserve your empathy, not when he keeps making you cry, yet he swallows his discomfort back down, his body resting on top of yours, lifting himself up with his arms.

“Y'always take me so well, don't you?” Simon teases in a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The sound of your wetness mingling with his leaking tip fills the room, dragging a small whine out of you as he teases your entrance for a few seconds, his eyes on yours the moment he sinks into you, giving you time to get used to his thickness before starting to push in deeper, a low groan leaving his lips the moment he hits your sensitive, spongy cervix.

Simon leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he starts to thrust into your needy, sopping cunt, every single inch of him stretching you out like you were made for him. A small shiver runs down his spine when your hand goes up and down his back, caressing the scars from the torture he suffered at the hands of Roba. He pushes the bitter sensation away, putting his entire focus on the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his, tiny strings of saliva staining the corners of your soft lips.

He pulls you closer, his grip possessive yet still so gentle and tender, his touch becoming more intimate. Simon buries his face on the crook of your neck, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your soft, warm skin.

“Y'like this, princess?” He rolls his hips against yours, pushing himself as deep as possible into your pussy.

“Bet my mates could fuck you better.” Simon silences your protests with a quick kiss, thrusting faster into you just so you become willing to hear him out.

“Could treat ya better, too.” His forehead leans against yours, staring deep into the pleading look you're giving him, silently begging him to stop talking about it— to love you, begging for something he can't give you even if he were to force himself.

“My captain's a good man. Y'like older men, don't ya?” His breath is hot against your cheek, his eyes finally screwing shot as your cunt tightens around him at the mention of Price, a low, deep groan making its way out of his throat.

“'Course you do.” He says with a small chuckle, planting tender kisses all over your cheeks, feeling your breath against his face as more whiny, needy moans leave your lips, your velvety walls tightening around his hard cock.

Simon's back bends slightly as he rests his cheek against your chest, your fast-beating heart giving him a slight sense of comfort he's never found anywhere else. His thrusts grow more desperate— faster and deeper, feeling your tits vibrate with each loud moan you're letting out, pretty legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“My pretty girl.” Even if he's just playing pretend, the words coming out of Simon's lips feel right, his thumb massaging your cheek while he admires you from beneath him, looking just like an angel. Part of Simon pities you, knowing that he'll never be able to love you back, but he can keep pretending for as long as you need.

The knot in your stomach starts to slowly come undone with every single thrust, feeling his meaty cock throb inside you. Your head leans back against the pillow, pretty eyes closing as you allow the illusion of love to set in— to imagine what it's like to be loved by someone like Simon, to get fucked like this daily, with such tenderness and care.

Simon can feel your walls gripping him harder, only encouraging him to slam his hips against yours the way he knows you love it, the upwards curve on his veiny cock allowing him to hit your spongy cervix over and over, low groans and loud pants escaping his lips. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as he gets closer to the edge, his heavy balls tightening.

Simon lets out a shaky breath as you hold him closer to your sweaty body by the waist, the arch of your back allowing both of your hearts to be against the other's, both beating wildly with the heat of the moment. His face goes back to the crook of your neck as he lets out a loud, throaty moan as he spills his hot cum into you, riding out your orgasms, feeling your tight cunt grip him like vice.

He waits a few seconds before slowly pulling out of you, cupping your cheek just to have those pretty eyes look up at him with nothing but pure trust and love— so lovely, so pure, so untainted, unlike him. He lays down next to you, wrapping his burly arms around you and bringing your exhausted body against his, cuddling you up.

He plants gentle kisses all over your pretty face, basking in the afterglow of the intense love-making, admiring you like you're a piece of art... and truly, in Simon's eyes, you are. His phone vibrates against your bedside table, reaching out for it and letting out a small sigh at the message. Duty calls, and unfortunately, Simon can't get out of a deployment, even when part of his heart stays with you.

“My mates need me for a mission.” He says softly, planting one last kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, putting his military-provided clothes back on. He stares at the sticky notes on your desk, giving you a small glance before leaning down and writing something on it, ripping the paper away from the rest and putting it down on your bedside table so you won't forget.

“'S my captain's number. Give 'im a call, yeah? He'll answer.” He promises, not daring to leave until you give him a small nod in confirmation, shooting you one last glance before leaving your room, the entrance door slamming shut soon after.

Your already teary eyes stare at the number written down on the sticky note, looking more enticing by the second.

John Price.

[tremendum]

Mr. Miller’s House 

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      

word count: 7.6k  requested: yes  summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really,  this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao

notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it.  as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE! 

[this is a sequel to Mr Miller.    part three   other Joel fics:     fever       landmines  ]

★  

this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea. 

fuck. 

the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.

 you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-

you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table. 

they glue themselves to him. 

fuck. 

Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this. 

you yearn for that escape as much as he does. 

then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad." 

speak for yourself, Ellie. 

both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil. 

this girl's going to kill you. 

it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement. 

it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner. 

no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile. 

for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it? 

it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father? 

because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel. 

you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks. 

it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all. 

but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey. 

hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist. 

the anger and hatred grew awful. 

it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her? 

you ought to punch his fucking face. 

you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners." 

he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him. 

but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk,  "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?" 

you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him. 

another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember. 

peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.

proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine. 

"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive. 

a shiver runs down your spine.

does he ever think about it? 

you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months. 

your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand. 

your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him.  "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline. 

nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again. 

it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.

"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore. 

you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it. 

your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit. 

a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core. 

"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs." 

"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning. 

"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table." 

"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice. 

you listen, for once. 

and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence. 

several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen. 

at least you and her are trying. 

you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you. 

he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you. 

the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both. 

you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity. 

"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised. 

his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?" 

"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him. 

"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-" 

"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat. 

"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward." 

"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking. 

you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now. 

"Ellie, go home." 

Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious. 

"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something." 

yeah, you think. you might. 

Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence. 

shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away. 

Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold. 

Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone. 

it’s silent for a moment before he speaks. 

"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps. 

you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic." 

"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted. 

it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that. 

you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it." 

his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters. 

you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that." 

his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me." 

"then why won't you show her!?" you yell. 

it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again. 

his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?" 

you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice. 

"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing." 

thinking about- what?

oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited." 

he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won. 

"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet. 

"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze. 

"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you. 

you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel." 

his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words. 

-- 

your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all. 

your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.

ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago. 

she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?

no. 

you have to go over. 

the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you. 

you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him. 

you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ. 

god, you're so fucked up. 

christ. 

so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it. 

what the fuck are you doing? 

you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah.  that’s... that’s fine. 

fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly? 

you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs. 

Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now. 

your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.  

the door swings open in an air of irritation. 

your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes. 

"y'here for more?" he snarks. 

your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit. 

he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm. 

you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.

you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel. 

he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in." 

your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought. 

the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker. 

your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again. 

so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.

he’s going to fucking hurt.  

it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard. 

you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink. 

but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock. 

"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.

you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him. 

your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response. 

you give him one. 

"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. 

his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner. 

"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?" 

his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly. 

his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours. 

"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now." 

his voice is... scary. 

the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so. 

your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready. 

his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?" 

you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator. 

you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation. 

he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you. 

"are you wet?" 

your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes." 

he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty. 

"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen. 

you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.) 

"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner." 

his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging. 

you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet. 

"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller. 

"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him. 

his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you. 

"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums. 

"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please." 

his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up." 

this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away. 

"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat. 

"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink. 

it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand. 

one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him. 

there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you. 

the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in. 

"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away." 

you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze. 

you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon. 

your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it. 

he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?" 

you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling. 

"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart. 

"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk. 

you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out. 

your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you. 

Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?" 

you groan, "fuck you, Joel." 

his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit. 

his hand slides out of your pants, face furious. 

you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand. 

he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch. 

your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him. 

"get on your goddamn knees now." 

you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans. 

your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum. 

he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick. 

"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?" 

you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir." 

"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it. 

he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house. 

two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air. 

he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut." 

you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions. 

"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut." 

he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself. 

you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house. 

he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more. 

"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest. 

you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you. 

you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs. 

"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?" 

you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room. 

Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame. 

your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind. 

your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him. 

his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days. 

you love it. 

his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.

"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him. 

"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know. 

he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream. 

it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days. 

he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex. 

your arms are tugged roughly. 

panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling. 

it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you. 

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."

the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus. 

"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice. 

you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you. 

you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it." 

you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you." 

it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone. 

"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours. 

soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much." 

he hums, "you want me to stop?" 

"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop. 

he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it." 

he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.

"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl." 

you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-

"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl. 

"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds. 

your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer. 

there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear. 

when you come to, he's still ravaging your body. 

you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you. 

"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you." 

he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name. 

he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it. 

"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw. 

yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close- 

and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white. 

you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.

you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you." 

you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him. 

a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl." 

you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat. 

he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone. 

but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted. 

you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it. 

so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it. 

(you hate him. he hates you.)

and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you. 

when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job. 

(what a cocky asshole.) 

it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway. 

. part three .

requests open

. 

[kissitbttr]

RANDOMMM SCENARIO BUT… famous athlete(soccer player) comes up to Wife and flirts with her (???) while her and miggy are at a club or something. 🫨

ooo this gon be a one jealous miggy🤤🤤

-

miguel is fucking furious,

he and his wife had planned to have a date night. a nice drink at a cocktail bar would do the two of them good. in which he refused at first. he offered a dinner and gentle walks with ice cream but it seems that his wife managed to make him agree with her instead . thanks to her gorgeous puppy dog eyes and seduction, he actually complied. under one condition, that she has to stay by his side the entire night.

‘aw baby, you know i wouldn’t stray too far away from you. I wouldn’t like to dance alone anyway’

that’s not why miguel wanted her to leave his side for more than five minutes,

if she did, then miguel has to look at some twenty something year old mother fucker trying to hit on her like this exact moment,

it’s because he knows how gorgeous his wife is. her presence alone could make people’s head turns and men to fall to their knees. let alone if she opens her mouth and speak, they could easily be entranced and fall in love,

how would he know, you ask? because that’s what she did to him the first time he met her,

he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a slow sips as his eyes settled on another brunette man trying to entertain his wife by the bar,

five minutes. miguel fucking left for five minutes to go to the bathroom and some pubescent fucker already is trying his ways to woo her,

it’s not like she’s actually interested with the guy. he could sense the boredom radiating from her, and he doesn’t even have to stand close to her,

it makes him laugh.

her ears perk at the sound of a familiar sound that she loves, turning around and flashes a smile before reaching a hand to his waist making him mirror her expression,

“miguel, darling. this is christian. christian king. he’s a—“

“number 07. football league. nice to meet you” on the contrary, miguel’s tone doesn’t sound inviting at all, in which she’s quick to notice but doesn’t say anything,

the guy however, is appalled. eyes wide at the size of the man before him who looks like he could snap his neck in half.

miguel’s impossibly large physique has never failed to intimidate people. how could it not? he’s one of the strongest spider-man for crying out loud! not to mention the amount of hours he put in during the workouts. especially when he’s in during the bulking season to put on more muscles,

lord have mercy whomever tries to cross him or disrespect his wife

“oh.. I didn’t know she came with someone” the guy gulps nervously but try to at least smile. “miguel o’hara? a friend of bruce wayne’s right?”

he scoffs, “hardly” he twirls the glass softly in his hand as the other snakes around her waist, showing him that she’s taken. “acquaintance is more suited”

christian lets out a hum, nodding along as he awkwardly tries to avert his gaze. miguel’s wife however is enjoying this weird interaction, her eyes flickers between them before smirking,

“christian here just asked me out on a date. to go watch him play”

hearing that makes christian choke, while miguel raises his one eyebrow at the bold question the man had the nerve to ask,

“that so?” miguel heaves a small humorless laugh, sounding pissed. he watches christian struggle to put some words as he shakes his head,

“t-that was before i knew she came with someone, i swear! sorry i mean no disrespect” he puts his hands up in defense, feeling scared that her words will affect his life. because the way miguel is staring him down hard,

there’s 99% chance that christian would walk out of here with broken arms,

“saw you kept touching her too, compá. you interested in my wife?” miguel steps in closer while she remains quiet, biting back a smile,

“no! oh my god, no! of course not i was—“

“how old are you?”

“21”

“shit” miguel chuckles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “look, you got to find one your age, kid. she’s taken. beat it”

christian nods fast, grabbing his drink off the table and mutter a soft sorry before scrambling off and away from the two,

his wife has her legs crossed, exposing the soft and delicate thighs between the slits of her dress while eyeing her husband who refuses to leave his gaze off the poor guy,

she smirks widely, elbow on the counter before chuckling causing miguel to look at his woman. which then his brows dip into a frown,

“you were enjoying that”

“i did” she confirms, moving to graze his cheek and down to the collar of his shirt. “you handled that better than i did”

“you complaining, cariño?”

“kind of. I should’ve prompted a fight”

“jesus, you’re crazy”

she leans closer, breath ghosting over his mouth as he looks down at her, mind going fuzzy. “you love it.”

“ay. si lo tengo, bonita” he sighs dreamily, planting a quick kiss on her ruby lips. “i still don’t like how they keep trying to take my woman away from me. first, it was at the cake test for our wedding and now that fucking kid—jesus is really testing me”

“what? you know i’m hot. some people just can’t help themselves” she shrugs innocently, giving him her best doe gaze while sipping on her cocktail,

with a groan, he pulls her in. “you’re pushing it, querida” eyes jumping between her eyes and mouth. “but you’re not wrong”

her lips stretch into a smile, pressing a finger on his chin to keep his eyes locked in his,

“you’re my husband. and i’m your wife. we’re tied, baby. you are stuck with me”

the nickname and the reminder puts him at ease for a bit, softly unclenching his jaw, head nodding at the thought of his wife being his forever,

his beautiful, beautiful wife,

“i mean, unless you want us to—“

“don’t even think about it” he grunts, giving her butt a spank with a glare. the gesture makes her giggle,

“you’re fucking mine”

[b00kdiary]

Euphoria | Ithan Holstrom

Ithan Holstrom x Plus Size Reader

Where Y/N finds herself needing to be reminded just how desirable she is, and Ithan Holstrom is more than willing to show her. Here's to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some SJM men love too xo

Warnings: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, eventual smut and the Ithan being utterly infatuated with his thick, beautiful lady.

MASTERLIST

I stared, unblinking, as Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae, kissed his way down the neck of a gorgeous and dark-skinned Faun. I trailed my gaze along as he sucked and bit gently against her soft skin and perfect bone structure, the Faun's eyes closed, her face a mirror of lust and bliss.

The grip I had on my glass tightened and I willed myself not the shatter it, to not draw attention to myself, to how jealous and seething I was.

The fluorescent lights inside the White Raven danced over the two of them, highlighting their ungodly beauty as they danced and rocked against each other to the beat of music. My chest tightened at the way Ruhn's arms wrapped so effortlessly around her slim waist, resting against the perfectly flat length of her stomach, revealed by her cropped bralette.

She was lovely by most standards and typical of the kind of females Ruhn was seen with- tall with small breasts and a small, yet nice ass and petite enough that there wasn't a single place that sat out or rubbed or curved too much.

Unlike me.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, taking a long indulgent sip of my drink to drive away the dryness and the sorrow. It was hard not to trail my mind into those uncharted, dark waters, the kind of scary, hollow place of insecurity where I could pick myself apart and rip any sense of security I had to pieces.

Because unlike that Faun, who had turned now, her toned back facing me as Ruhn kissed her, kissed her with so much passion and need that it made me feel sick. Unlike her, I was not petite or skinny and I did not look like the kind of girl that Ruhn Danaan desired.

"You're glaring, Y/N." A deep voice interrupted my pity party and snapped me back into this room, away from all the meanest, cruellest thoughts I had of myself.

I turned, levelling out my eyes and surprise-filled me when I met with honey-brown eyes and a smile that could melt a girl's heart and drop her panties.

My lip kicked up as I took in the golden-brown soft waves of hair and tan sun-kissed skin, my gaze moved down, over the acres of strong, corded muscle that was further accentuated by the form-fitting t-shirt he wore.

"Ithan Holstrom," I mused, cocking my head at him, and seeing his lip tilt into a lazy smile "You're the last person I expected to see here, I didn't think this was your kind of scene."

"It's not, not really but," He shrugged, glancing over his broad shoulder to where a few wolves sat gathered around a table "But the pack forced me."

"You don't strike me as the type of guy who can be forced to do anything," I raised a brow, tossing a long strand of hair over my shoulder and felt Ithan's eyes track each movement. "Don't try and hide it, you came here for a good time, a good fuck maybe?"

He chuckled at my playful words, the sound rough and heady, running over me and prickling my skin. I forced myself to breathe as he stepped closer, close enough that his hard chest brushed against my breasts, and I felt the warmth and scent of him.

"Is that what you came for?" He asked, though his words weren't a question, not as he looked over my head, his stare pointed, straight to where Ruhn and that Faun stood "Or were you planning to glare at Ruhn Danaan all night, hoping he'd notice you?"

"Don't be a prick," I scowled, my lip curling and I pushed at his chest, hearing a rough bark of laughter escape him as he saw the fire burning in my eyes " I might be pining after Ruhn, but it's no different to how you trailed after Bryce like a lost puppy all these years, Holstrom."

His eyes darkened at that- those honeyed pupils shadowing into a starless night sky. Bryce was a sore topic still, even after two years and I felt guilt gnaw at me, hating myself for mentioning her, for the way that smile tilted down now.

"Bryce didn't want me, I knew she didn't," Ithan gritted back, his jaw locked and his eyes hard "Ruhn might want you, he could want you as badly as you want him, you're just too scared to find out."

"I'm not scared," I said defensively, crossing my arms over my chest, and yet again, I didn't miss how his steely gaze fell, something sparking in them as my top lowered and revealed my ample cleavage. I clear my throat, ignoring the twist in my gut "I'm just realistic, I know Ruhn's type, I've seen his type and I know I'm not it."

"His type?" Ithan mused, raising a dark, thick brow at me "What? Gorgeous? Desirable? No, you're definitely not his type." It was sarcastically drawled, accompanied by a sassy eye roll and it was the least serious I had seen Ithan in years- since Connor died.

"Try petite, skinny and perfect," I snort, but my voice isn't as joking as I would like, it's heavier, weighed down by the reality of the words.

"Bullshit, Y/N," Ithan scowls, and the way his eyes glared out in protest, in defence, it was as if he was furious at me for even saying what I did. "If Ruhn fucking Danaan thinks you're not perfect then he's a bigger asshole than I already thought he was."

I felt my face heat, my body turning hot and needy at his words, at the honesty and conviction behind them. He stepped closer, close enough that I smelt the mint and alcohol on his warm breath, and a fire sparked in my core- and I didn't step back.

"You think I'm perfect?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and shaking slightly. I couldn't stop staring into his eyes, couldn't stop watching the lust roil in them, darkening them by each second, we inched closer, drawn together like magnets. "Don't fuck with me Ithan, I mean it."

"Y/N, while you were busy glaring down Danaan and the Faun," Ithan said, his voice slipping into a low timbre, the gruffness clawing over my nerves and making me breathless "I was staring at you."

"You were?" My voice was softer than I wanted it to be, but my defences were wearing down. I had always found Ithan attractive, always wondered what he would be like as more than a friend. And as his hand snaked around my waist, large, veined, and ringed, and slowly dragged me to him, I knew that those feelings hadn't faded with time.

"You might not believe me, but I was staring at you, alongside damn near every other male in this room, Y/N," Ithan muttered, his face inches from mine and when his nose brushed against my cheek, my eyes fluttered. "If you had just looked around you, you would have seen how many wanted you- and how could they not?"

I felt his hand trail down my back and sides, over the rolls and curves of flesh, and I felt nauseous, hating that he could feel it. But he growled, a purely animal sound, his fingers digging into my flesh as if he was holding himself back as if touching me brought him to the edge of his control.

"Ithan," I swallowed, steeling my spine, and forcing back the fierceness and power I was used to wielding with men, "I'm not Bryce Quinlan."

"And I'm not Ruhn Danaan," He shot back immediately, his lip quirking "But that doesn't change the fact that I fucking want you, and I know you want me too."

I inhaled a shaky, long breath, my throat drying out at his words and at all the sinful, dirty images that flashed through my mind, filthy enough that I had to clench my thighs shut.

"Let's walk to yours, no cab," I say hoarsely, ignoring the way he grinned as I grabbed his hand and began dragging him to the exit. He followed dutifully, his fingers interlocking with mine, his thumb brushing soothing, soft strokes against my palm.

"Why?" He laughed, his brow raising at me as I glanced over my shoulder and I didn't miss the way my body ignited, striking, and burning as his gaze trailed over my skin.

"Because I can't promise I won't ride you in the back seat," I said honestly, gnawing on my lip as my eyes met his over my shoulder "And I don't want the night to end before it's even begun."

"Fuck," Ithan swore, low and dirty, and I could smell his arousal.

Just like I knew he could smell mine.

***

We walked through The Wolves Den with ease, silent and quick-paced as we waded through each corridor and climbed floor after floor.

Ithan had wanted to take the lift straight to his floor and had been so on edge that he looked as if he might have taken me against the wall in the goddamn lobby if I had given him the say-so. But I wanted him at breaking point, wanted that wolf inside him to come out clawing, biting and roaring.

So instead, we walked, each second that passed and the silence that stretched drawing the tension tauter and tauter, and I could feel my blood thrum in anticipation. Ithan looked over at me as we walked down the final corridor- and the smirk he wore, the knowing gleam in his eyes, told me everything he wanted to do.

"You have got to be kidding me, Ithan," A voice declared, female and high-pitched, loud enough that it grated against my senses and had both of us coming to a reluctant halt. I eyed the fifth door, which happened to be Ithan's room, with need. "Bringing the trash home?"

"Watch it, Amelie," Ithan growled, his eyes tapering in warning as he turned to glare at the dark-haired, golden-eyed female before him. His pack member- and a total hateful bitch.

"Why? Scared I'll scare away your whore for the night?" She snorted, her arms folding over her chest as she looked at me, amusement and cruelty gleaming in her eyes. I saw her stare trail between us, taking in our interlocked hands, the way our arousals wafted in the air, and she scowled.

Jealous, that much was obvious.

"Hey, Ithan?" I mused, glancing sideways at him, and smiling sweetly. He rose a brow at me, confused and half-amused. "Are the walls here thin?" I stared pointedly, past Amelie, to the open door at her side, number four- right next to Ithan's.

Ithan seemed to catch onto my thought trail and chuckled lowly, nodding his head "Very thin."

"Amelie," I smirked, my hand trailing up Ithan's muscled chest as he punched in the code and pushed open his room door, "When you touch yourself tonight, imagining that Ithan's fucking you and not me, don't be too loud- Ithan might hear it and go limp."

"You fucking-" Her eyes burned, and so did her cheeks, outrage and embarrassment filling her as she stepped toward me.

"Have a good night, I know I will." I winked and Ithan's laughter flittered over to me, caressing my skin like a phantom touch. The door clicked shut behind me, and suddenly, Amelie was gone, and it was just me and him, in his room, together, and alone.

"I don't think I've ever seen Amelie that red before, she's not used to being put in her place like that," Ithan noted, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leaned against the back of his sofa "She's not going to let that go, you know?"

"Amelie's a neurotic, insecure bitch," I scowl, walking a few tentative steps further into his room, "She can get fucked, I couldn't care less."

Ithan doesn't say anything else, remaining silent as my gaze lifts and washes over his room. I take in the four bare walls and the simple brown sofa, glass table and TV, a large double bed at the furthest wall and a chest of drawers and a matching wardrobe at its side.

"Not what you were expecting?" Ithan asked, cocking his head to the side as he observed my expression. I pursed my lips, looking over his folded arms, the way the muscles bulged, and I swallowed.

"I'm not sure what I expected," I say honestly, my voice quiet and when I slowly began to walk over to Ithan, I felt the tension in the air go taut. I paused, standing just before where he sat on the sofa's back, looking at me with a wry smile. "Were you being honest when you said that the walls are thin?"

"I was," He chuckled, revealing two sharp canines on either side of his upper teeth and I shivered at the sight of them. I imagined them against my skin, teasing, scrapping, and biting and I clenched my hands. "Were you being honest when you said you would be having a good night?"

I smiled at the heat in his eyes, at the way we were so close, yet we didn't touch not in one single place, and I knew he was holding out, restraining himself from grabbing on to me, just as I was.

"I plan to have a good night," I say, cocking my head in challenge "But really, it's up to you how good of a night for me it is."

One second, I'm standing before Ithan, smirking, cocky as I watch the lust burning in his eyes, and then the next, his fingers are wrapping around my throat, his ring digging into my jugular as he pulls me to him.

I groan as his mouth collides with mine and my body shakes at the heady, desperate way his lips move against me, tasting me, devouring me, taking me like it's his last night on Midgard. I melted into the strength and solidity of him, his hand at my throat, the firm pressure there, making my body turn weak.

Ithan's lips move against me, deep, languished strokes that fan the embers sparking in my stomach and I dig my nails into his chest, curling my fingers around the fabric of his t-shirt, needing to tether myself to him, to keep myself upright.

I whimper at the feeling of his left hand descending my body, his fingers gripping against every bit of flesh and curve with need, all the way from the top of my spine to the curve of my ass, and he groans as he cups me, the flesh spilling out and soft against his palm.

“Bed, now,” I pull back, my faces only inches from his and we’re both panting wildly, lust and need dancing in our gazes, like a mirror.

“Hm, not sure I’m a fan of being told what to do in my own place, sweetheart,” Ithan smirks, and my eyes flutter as he draws me closer, biting and suckling against my neck, the feeling of his canines against my skin driving me crazy. “Why don’t you try again?”

“Stop trying to be an alpha male, Ithan,” I manage to grit out, desperately trying to force down the moans that threaten to slip past my lips, but his mouth and tongue against my hot skin make it so hard. “We both know you’re really just a puppy- ah-“

A squeal escapes me as both of Ithan’s arms wrap around me, hooking under my ass and there’s a whoosh of air as he yanks me up into his arms, so fast my heart lurches and I’m locking my legs around his waist and holding onto his t-shirt so tightly I’m surprised it didn’t tear.

“You’re far too coherent right now,” Ithan grumbles and fuck if the sound of it doesn’t go straight between my legs. I hold onto him tighter as he begins to carry me over to bed, looking as if my weight is less than nothing to him right now. “I’m going to need to fix that.”

“Please do,” I whisper, tossing my hair from my face and bringing my lips back against his, slower, deeper, the hardness and ridges of his body brushing against my breasts feeling so good and the long, thick length rubbing against my thigh feels even better.

Ithan smirks against my lips as we thump against the bed and true to his word, Ithan drops me on the bed, so hard and fast I grunt at the impact, my body and tits bouncing as I land on my ass. The sight makes him smile, and the way he towers over me, looking like some kind of God has every nerve in my burning.

“You’re fucking incredible,” He mutters, and the honey in his eyes is gone, melted into the darkest chocolate, the kind that told me every filthy, heady, dirty thing he wanted to do to me. I leaned back on my palms as he rested a knee on the mattress, lowering his pleased face down to mine. “But I bet you’d look even better without all the clothes.”

His hand snakes around to the zip at the back of my top and fuck, fuck, fuck- I freeze.

“Or not?” He mutters, a crease forming between his brows at the way my body physically locks up and his hand immediately stops, resting flat against my back, his thumb rubbing softly to soothe me. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want-“

“No, no-“ I shake my head, clearing my throat as I bring a hand to cup his jaw, loving the way he melts into the touch, “It was just a habit, a muscle memory reaction- No, trust me, I want to, I want you, Ithan.”

“Good, because I want you too, Y/N,” He mutters, smiling as he brings his mouth down, but he doesn’t pull at the zipper, instead he kisses me, tastes me, and enjoys me, and my hands curl into the root of his hair, glad for that moment of reprieve.

I can tell he’s being sweet because he is sweet, and now that he knows I’m hesitating, he won’t make the next move until he’s sure I’m ready- and I am, I am so fucking ready.

I pull back from him, my eyes locking with his and the room is so silent, deadly silent, as I draw my hand back and ever so slowly tug down the zipper to my top. The sound is almost sensual, making Ithan’s face darken, in anticipation, in feral lust.

I gnaw on my lip as the zipper pulls free and still keeping my eyes on his, I draw the top forward, down my arms, every movement deliberate until the fabric is discarded on the floor beside us. Ithan says nothing as he stares down at me, as he stares down at my bare chest, my breasts heavy and aching and I’ve never been gladder that I chose not to wear a bra.

His Adam’s apple bobs and the breath seizes in my lungs as his cold hand traces across my back, around to my chest and he groans, low and deep, the second his hand cups around my breast. I gasp as he kneads the flesh, his fingers slowly and deliberately tugging on my pebbled nipple.

“Ithan,” I growl, I can’t help it, he’s staring at me, looking like he wants to devour me, but he hasn’t bloody moved. “Do something, for Cthona’s sake.”

“So needy,” He croons, and I nearly sigh when he leans forward again and pushes me back to lay flat against the mattress. My body shivered as he climbed onto the bed, his large figure moving to hover over me, and I felt almost small in comparison to him, a feeling that was unfamiliar to me.

He kissed lower down my neck, his mouth inching closer as his hand kneaded my breast, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers and tugging gently igniting so many sparks that I couldn't even speak, merely moaning breathlessly with each sure touch.

I gasped when his head ducked, his eyes shielded by the strands of hair that fell forward as he plucked one nipple into his mouth. My back arched and my fingers dug into his shoulders hard enough to hurt as the raw feeling of his tongue and teeth teased me.

“Ithan,” I moaned when he began biting against my nipple, not too hard, but firm enough that I felt the shock go through every nerve ending, sparking, burning, and throbbing, so hard I felt it in my core.

My head spins as Ithan begins shifting lower, and I cringe when he begins trailing his hands down my stomach, instantly thinking over every roll and stretch mark and flesh that was there- not that he seemed to mind. No, he kissed against the skin, trailing his tongue languidly down, just as infatuated as he had been before.

The tension in the air is thick as Ithan runs his calloused hands down the side of my thick thighs, kneading the flesh and teasing the material of my skirt, his intentions obvious. And with the ache beginning to become unbearable between my legs, I don’t hesitate to lift my hips, glad when he immediately hooks his fingers into the top of my skirt- pulling it and my underwear down in one go.

It’s almost amusing how quickly he discards the excess material over his shoulder, so transfixed on the sight of my naked body before him, sprawled out and burning from the intensity of his gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” He groans, his voice hoarse and the tightness coiling in my chest eases as he runs his hand up my thighs, feeling the cellulite and stretch marks and grins as he spread my legs apart for him to come between.

My heart races in anticipation as he sinks down below my parted thighs, his eyes burning with satisfaction as he comes level to my core, and the urge to clamp my legs shut fills me- which he seems to sense, if his strong grip on either side of my thigh, keeping spread wide apart is any indication.

I feel his hot breath against my most sensitive part and just when I feel like the seconds are dragging into minutes, making me fidgety and restless, I gasp at the feeling of his tongue flicking against my clit, soft and probing, coaxing out quiet moans from me.

“That’s it,” Ithan purrs and the sound vibrates against my core, making me clench my fingers into the duvet under me for purchase. Ithan seems encouraged by my moans, his tongue lapping against my clit in long languish strokes that draw pleasure from me in waves. “Taste so fucking good.”

He grins against me, cocky, sure, and under any other circumstances I’d hate it, but right now, I can’t find it in me. Instead, I reach down, lacing my fingers through his soft hair, tugging, yanking, and scratching, coaxing Ithan to give me more- which he happily does.

“Fuck, oh my-“ Two fingers prod my wet entrance, and the sound is so lewd as he quickly stuffs the two digits inside me, stretching me in the most perfect yet painful way, especially when he curls those two digits, hitting a spot that has me seeing stars.

“There we go,” Ithan coaxes softly, feeling my body start to vibrate and writhe, that pool of pleasure building and building within me, plummeting fast and harder as he fucks his fingers in and out steadily, in tandem with the smooth agile movement of his tongue against my clit. “There we go, such a good girl.”

I cry out, trembling and moaning as a white-hot blaze burns through me, starting at my core and running into my thighs and stomach, all the way down to my toes. I pant, my head fogging with the overwhelming blanket of pleasure that Ithan’s smothered me with.

Ithan groans, his teeth tugging at my sore clit before he eventually lets go, his fingers slipping out of me with ease. I exhale harshly at the loss of contact, sagging back as the euphoria dies down and my body settles into calm again.

Ithan ascends my body, a shit-eating grin on his wet lips and I don’t have time to even speak before he captures my mouth in his, pushing his tongue deep into me, letting me taste myself.

“How’s that for a puppy, sweetheart?” He mutters, biting my bottom lip and I roll my eyes at the sheer masculine satisfaction in his voice, in those bright eyes as he stares at me.

“Don’t be an arrogant prick,” I snipe back, ignoring Ithan’s laughter as I place either hand on his shoulder and the surprise that lights his face as I yank him down onto the bed beside me, flipping us so that I’m straddling him, makes me grin. “I’m still in charge, Ithan.”

“If this is you being in charge, I’m not fucking complaining,” He smirks lazily, his voice heavy with lust as he leans back, his eyes oh so slowly trailing across my body atop his, looking like the cat that got the cream as he enjoys every inch of me.

I smile, soft, as I run my hands against the seam of his t-shirt, my thumbs hooking under the material and slowly dragging it up- revealing inch after inch of tan, smooth skin, so much corded muscle it makes me hot. Ithan easily helps, and it’s not long before the material is over his head and thrown to the ever-growing pile of clothes on his floor.

I drag my core against the front seam of Ithan’s jeans, and our groans mix in the air at the feeling of his hard length brushing against me. I don’t waste any time, Ithan’s eyes never leaving me as I move my hands to the front of his jeans, my fingers fumbling against the button and zipper, almost desperate as I open them, tugging the materials down just a little.

“Shit,” I mutter, my eyes widening as Ithan’s hard cock slips out, breaking free and slapping back against his stomach. Ithan snorts at my reaction, at the sheer surprise on my face at the size of him, and my cheeks heat in embarrassment as he smiles at me. “Shut up.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” His eyes flutter as I grip my hand around his hard length, my fingers struggling to find purchase as I palm up and down, every moan and gasp that escapes him egging me on. “You’re fucking killing me here, sweetheart.”

“Poor puppy,” I tease, smirking and Ithan’s canines expose in warning, his hands coming to either side of my hips, and when he slowly lifts me up, dragging me closer to him, I prepare myself for the feeling of him inside me.

“Shit, shit,” I moan as Ithan’s cock brushes my entrance and I ever so slowly sink down, down, down, until he’s stretching me like he’s going to break me in two, until his tip brushes something far and deep inside me.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Ithan swears, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips and thighs so tightly, I can feel the cut of his nails.

I flutter my eyes as the burn soon seeps into pleasure and we both suck in a gasp of air when I drag up, so deliberate and slow, all the way to the tip, before slamming back down, hard and fast. Ithan swears, his chest rising and falling so fast as I do it again and again, his cock slipping against my wet core like it was made for me.

“Ithan, oh-“ I whimper as I ride up and down his cock, alternating between fast, hard strokes and long, slow ones, Ithan’s hands at my hips guiding me along, helping me chase after the relief, and I know I won’t last long, not with the cord within me tightening so perfectly.

“Look at you riding my cock so well,” Ithan praises roughly, his teeth gritted as he pants and moans every time he sinks into me, and when my eyes lock with his, I’ve never felt more seen, more desired in my life. “Look at those tits bouncing, fuck, taking me so good Y/N.”

He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.

My fingers scratch against Ithan’s chest and abs, my body starting to shake and weaken at how good it feels, how he’s hitting against a spot that makes my insides turn to mush, again and again. Ithan must sense my fatigue, sense my head spinning, because he grabs me, and within seconds, we’ve flipped over and he’s on top of me now.

His hand guides my thighs around his hips and my eyes roll, my back arches, as he sinks in even deeper and I whimper into his lips, into his mouth at the brutal pace he sets, slamming into me again and again, unrelenting, and merciless, so fucking good I can’t catch my breath.

My eyes flutter open as Ithan’s hand wraps around my throat, pressing firmly on either side of my neck and when my eyes meet his when I see the burning, commanding, domineering power behind them, it’s like something in me rips in two.

He hits a spot, some magic, fathomless spot inside me and it all shatters to pieces like glass.

“Ithan, I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Ithan grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it,” Ithan whispers, panting against my lips, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him. “Everyone in the whole fucking Dens gonna know whose making you feel this good.”

I whimper at the filthy words he grunts into my ear, my body trembling with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Ithan still fucked in and out of me, chasing his own high and when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.

The sound he makes, the growl that escapes him, reverberates through the whole damn room and my body is aching as he comes to a gradual stop inside me, our sweaty, panting bodies, melting into each other as we climb down from our peaks.

Ithan groans as he slowly slips out of me, the feeling of his warm cum leaking from me and dripping down my skin making me blush, and the small smirk that lines his lips as he inches back to look at me tells me he finds it both amusing and adorable.

“I can feel your cum leaking down my thigh,” I breathe and Ithan's eyes flutter, rolling as he laughs, burying his face into my neck dramatically, as if I were completely ruining him.

“Keep saying shit like that, Y/N and I might just have to chain you to this bed,” Ithan mutters against my skin, kissing and nibbling across my neck and jaw before he meets my lips again, kissing me sweetly as if memorising the taste and feel of me.

“After that, I’m tempted to let you, Ithan,” I grin, sighing as he rests his weight on top of me, his arms on either side making sure not to crush me, but the warmth and touch is welcome.

“Are you still thinking about Ruhn Danaan?” He muses, cocking his head, and the honey has returned back to his eyes, that smile turning boyish and soft again as he stares down at me.

“No,” I say simply, honestly, dragging my hand up his chest and neck, before settling against his jaw, my thumb drawing lines across the hard ridge there. “Are you still thinking about Bryce Quinlan?”

“Definitely not,” He smiles, earnest and firm and the sight makes my entire body heat again.

“Good,” I let my eyes darken, letting him see just what I was thinking as I wrap a leg around his hip, drawing his hardening cock back down against me- and he grins with feral delight at the action. “Because I haven’t quite gotten you out of my system yet, Puppy.”

-------------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

[sohnric]

sweet like candy – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: summer au, strangers to something more ?? fluff, suggestive. very much stargazing by the neighbourgood and fantasize by the boyz capsuled into a fic. eric is a simp and a hopeless romantic because i said so. a girl romanticizes sharing a lollipop (its me im girl)

warnings: alcohol, maybe some minimal swearing, a heated make out session that hints onto a hookup (no smut mentioned!). the use of a cheesy nickname babydoll (dont @ me or i will deactivate), reader has hair long enough for a claw clip

word count: 6.9k

a/n: almost cried while trying to name this fic somebody send help. Also this doesn't feel like my best work its kinda rushed imo but 🤠 yolo

part of the @deoboyznet summer on you event! cant believe i made it on time

a summer tradition of renting out a cabin every year invented by a couple of friends takes a turn for eric when a new addition to the circle brings him to his knees - in other words, he never knew tequila could taste so sweet.

If anyone ever asked Eric Sohn if he believed in love at first sight, he would, without a doubt, say yes. 

What was the proof he had? Well, absolutely nothing. All he ever knew about love at first sight was from romance movies he watched during lonely nights with his roommate Juyeon, never having the experience of the whole world stopping and zooming in on one particular person, taking his breath away– but to put it simply, Eric Sohn is a true romantic. Call him cheesy if you want– he wouldn’t like it, but he also wouldn’t disagree. 

On one summer afternoon, though, his world tilts in its axis– the moment comes, and he is finally able to test out his theory.

You walk out of the passenger’s side of a red 2008 Toyota Auris, hair put up into a claw clip, jean shorts showing off your long legs and a pearl white button-up opened and lazily thrown over your outfit, and suddenly, Eric Sohn finds his knees buckling and his palms sweating with affection. He was aware that Juyeon’s girlfriend was bringing her best friend to tag along to their little summer retreat (more like a trip to a cabin in the middle of the woods), but he sure as hell didn’t expect the stranger to make him feel this type of way. 

Sure, it might just be him being incredibly attracted to you. But with how fast his heart was beating when you smiled at everyone after introducing yourself to the group, he was sure he was slowly, but surely falling for you. And he was falling hard.

He feels like the world is moving in slow motion as he watches the group go and unload the car– you and your best friend Yeri were the last ones to arrive– and what wakes him up from the haze is when he watches you struggle to carry a cooler out of the trunk into the cabin, his legs dragging him closer to the vehicle and near to your body.

Now is his time to shine. “Let me help!” he hurries out, sneakers crunching on the gravel. His hands firmly grab onto the handle of the blue cooler, muscles flexing under the weight (making him wonder why you would willingly want to carry the thing and not ask him or any of the guys for help in the first place), and when your eyes look up at come in contact with his, he presses a smile to his lips. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Ah,” you gasp, a grateful expression breezing over your features, “thanks. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Eric hums, watching your every move. Your figure walks over to the front of the car, your head popping in close to the window to look inside, and when a satisfied look overtakes your features, Eric finds himself asking. “Is that everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “we can head inside, I think.”

The boy tries hard to keep his cool, he really does. But with how he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, attempting to find a topic that would engage him in a conversation with you, he feels like a boy that is just experiencing a crush for the first time in his life. Everything about you is enchanting– and sure, you could say he was just painfully attracted to you and this had nothing to do with love– but he was also convinced that if you asked him to jump off the Empire State Building, he would do it without giving it a second thought (which is kind of worrying, but again– it says a lot). 

You open the door to the cabin for him, and he finds himself speechless at the action. Once your eyes meet again and you offer him another subtle smile, he finds himself gasping at the sentence that comes out of your mouth.

“Hey! We’re matching, kinda,” you note, pointing towards his outfit.

And you’re right– Eric didn’t even notice at first, too enchanted with your sheer existence– but you two were indeed wearing the same thing. Jean shorts, and a white button-up– in your case, thrown over a white tank top, in Eric’s, closed (although he did leave it a bit open at the top, revealing his tanned skin). Suddenly, the boy is glad he’s wearing a red cap to cover up his hair, since he foolishly thinks the hat provides him enough shade in the face to not reveal his burning cheeks as he utters out a weak response.

“It looks so much better on you, though.”

With that, he walks into the cabin– escaping the situation, not really paying a single thought to chivalry and letting you go through the door first– and as he reaches the crowd of people in the kitchen, he prays for all high sources to find him, get to him and wipe his brain clean of all thoughts, because

even though you are basically matching (and he does think you look so much better in the outfit than he does), all he can think about is just how much more he’d like your outfit if the white button-up enveloping your body was the one he’s wearing right now instead.

The next time Eric finds courage to talk to you is when it seems like you’re not finding it to talk to anyone else yourself– the big group is currently sitting around a fire, marshmallows and sausages slowly burning in the blazing flames– and while everyone around was either talking to each other or singing along to the songs Jacob was playing on the guitar, you were sitting alone in the middle of two commotions: Chanhee and Changmin arguing about something seemingly important, and Yeri and Juyeon making out right in front of everyone’s eyes. 

And Eric was supposed to listen to Sunwoo talk about his latest heartbreak– how the man still gets no girls despite having such an objectively handsome face, Eric truly doesn’t know– but the topic of the conversation was too boring for him to engage with it. That, and he was also painfully aware of your every move– you didn’t even move much– and word– you weren’t talking to anybody– and that was slowly driving him insane.

You looked a little out of place. Eric supposes it was because you didn’t really know anyone here– except from your best friend and her awfully sappy boyfriend– but even though it was logical and a little expected for you to be a bit excluded in such a foreign circle, the man took it as his mission to make you feel as welcome and as included as he physically could.

Completely ignoring Sunwoo’s blabbering (like he was doing for the last few minutes anyway), Eric confidently (and a bit shakily– hands sweating and breath hitching in his throat) walks to the other side of the bonfire, from where he’s been watching your stone expression through the flames, and sits down in the small place between you and Changmin. Changmin wasn’t even facing you, too engrossed in the debate he was having with Chanhee, and so it was Eric’s job to wobble his bottom into the place, efficiently making the older boy move away with a light elbow jab sent into his lower back.

“Hi,” he clears his throat, “are you having fun?” he asks, but mentally curses at himself right as the question escapes his mouth– does she look like she's having fun? Of course she doesn't, you stupid idiot.

You smile at the question, though, nodding. “Yeah,” you hum, “having lots of fun listening to your friends argue and my friends making out next to my ear.”

“You seemed like it too, y’know,” Eric laughs, “they’re always like this, by the way. They’ll forget about the fight in the morning.”

“Oh, that could never be me,” you sigh, shaking your head at the sentiment.

“No?”

“No,” you shrug, “I get too petty. If we have a fight, I’m not speaking to you for at least two weeks.”

Eric finds himself laughing at your comment. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”

Straightening your back and looking at your companion– as if you were going to call him out on his subtle hint of there being any future meeting between the two of you– you suddenly gasp and swiftly turn towards the bonfire, an honest mourn escaping your lips.

“Oh fuck!” you curse under your breath as your hand reaches towards a stick that’s had its end in the flame, the device efficiently resting against a rock in a position where you didn’t have to pay any attention to the snack you were cooking– more like burning– for yourself. With a quick move for the stick, you pull the tip of it out of the scorching red of the bonfire and look at it in an examining way, as if the result would be different and the marshmallow would unburn itself if you stared at it long enough. “I completely forgot about this!”

Eric takes a glance at the burnt piece of fluff, letting out a laugh at the black marshmallow in front of your face. “That’s not how you make a good s’more,” he notes, poking fun at your annoyed face.

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock…” you mutter under your breath, but your face looks a bit sad to see the piece go to waste. “I don’t know why I even tried, I’m bad at this stuff.”

There comes his moment, Eric thinks. “Well, you’re lucky, ‘cause you just met an expert at making s’mores.”

“Does a thing like that even exist?” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the male in disbelief. 

“Of course it does! You’re looking at one now,” he grins, leaning over you to take a brand new marshmallow out of the bag to your right– sandwiched between your thigh and the couple in love– before he reaches over to your hand and takes the roasting stick out of your hand, slides the white fluffy cloud through the sharp tip and hovers it above the flame.

“The key is to hold it above the flame, and not in the flame,” Eric chuckles as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching your expression change.

“Oh, but I thought the key is to burn the thing,” you ironically gasp, shaking your head at his teasing. “Where did you even learn all of this?”

“I grew up in the States,” Eric hums, “they would deport me if I didn’t know how to make s’mores.”

The comment gets a giggle out of you– a sound Eric almost folds at and falls into the open fire (thankfully, he held his composure– he doesn’t think 3rd degree burns would suit his look) – and it takes everything in him to not scream like a teenage girl at the thought of making you laugh. Yes, that’s how down bad you managed to get the male.

“Do you have a special recipe?”

“Just the basic one,” he shrugs, turning the skewer in his hand to make the marshmallow equally glazed on each side, “I will make it extra good for you, though.”

“I thought a master always does their best?” you tease, watching as the boy crumbles under your gaze.

“Not always. I don’t like to put effort into things that aren’t worth it,” Eric hums as he takes the marshmallow out of the burning fire, examining it, and after deeming it worthy, taking the skewer and holding it up in between his knees. The male takes a graham cracker and tears it in half, before adding chocolate to one of the sides. After he’s done, he carefully places the golden fluff ball onto the cracker and closes it, offering the sweet sandwich to you with a subtle smile.

“For you,” he winks as he turns back towards the fire, putting another marshmallow onto the stick to make himself a s’more as well (and also mentally kicking himself at the sudden burst of courage). He hears you take a bite out of the snack, his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he awaits the verdict.

“Man,” you hum, “this is so good.”

“Told you,” he says, “if there’s something I’m confident in, it’s making s’mores.”

“That’s a very unuseful skill to have,” you note, but continue to eat. The comment has him chuckle and shrug.

“Well, I used it now, so I’d argue it’s actually very useful.”

A hum cuts out of your throat at this, finishing the s’more he made for you with a satisfied sigh. “Is this how you got girls back in the States?” you ask, making the male choke on his spit.

Eric was too young to get girls when he learned how to make the greatest s’mores. He went camping with his dad and his older sister and he burned a couple before he got it right. He was in middle school and before what the kids call a glow-up these days (back in the days, you just called it overcoming puberty), but still– he decides to test the waters with another lazy, half-assed flirty comment. “Only the pretty ones.”

He hears a chuckle out of you– a reaction he decides to not pay much attention to or overthink, for he doesn’t really remember what a good reaction to flirting is anymore– but then, you sigh and nod. “Well, I give your s’more a 5 star review, so I’d find that believable.”

The comment has Eric press his tongue into the inside of his cheek, battling a victorious smile that wants to oh so desperately appear on his lips. Turning his attention fully to you, he looks at you with confidence coating his insides– it only grows when he notices you staring at the side of his face, the flame of the fire twinkling in your eye and making your features sharper and twice as attractive to the poor boy. 

His eyes scan you over for a few seconds before he notices a glimmer of something on the side of your lip– a chocolate stain that has him cautiously lean in and swipe a thumb over the sweetness, not even thinking twice before smoothing his finger over your skin. 

“You had a little… something there,” he hums as he licks the chocolate off his thumb. Your eyes still trained on him force him to avert his gaze back to the fire– for it was unbearable, as if sparks were flying and burning his skin, everything about the interaction making goosebumps appear over his body; even though he felt hot in his cheeks and not at all cold– when the sight of his marshmallow in flames suddenly comes to him, startling him awake.

Hurriedly dragging out the burnt snack out of the fire, he hears you chuckle at him from the side– so much for not ruining the moment. (It’s okay, though. As long as you’re entertained.)

“I thought you were a master at s’mores,” you poke fun at him, “got distracted?”

Meeting eyes with you, Eric shrugs, a lazy grin settling to his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

The night progresses quickly– with Sunwoo getting so drunk he borrows Jacob’s guitar and clumsily strums the strings, freestyle rapping about the most random topics with flushed cheeks and eyes dramatically glued to the fire; Hyunjae wanting to have a competition of who can jump over the flames and Sangyeon having to stop his drunk friend with the force of his own body– and Eric finds his eyes lacking the candy he’s been occupying himself with the whole evening. You disappeared somewhere into the house a few minutes ago, and although he didn’t want to be clingy, he walked up to the cabin with a nervous pep in his step– that’s it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Eric walks through the doorway, having his body immediately be met with the joined common room slash kitchen area. The cabin is kind of small (too small for the amount of people currently occupying it) and kind of old, but it’s a tradition to rent it every year during the summer, so no one ever questioned the decision or made the move to rent out a bigger one, no matter the growing friend group.

Your figure finally appears in the dimly lit kitchen area, your back turned to the doorway. Standing at the kitchen sink, it seems like you were doing the dishes– tons of plates used to carry grilled meat and sausages dumped carelessly into the sink, forgotten in a minute and leaving the last remains of food dry up on them and get hard to scrape off, a couple of glasses and mugs with their ears broken off from their age waiting with coffee stains at the bottom– and Eric immediately feels his heart fall down to his stomach, because why would one do the dishes in the middle of the night? Those usually get left there until the morning, when the least hungover person will take mercy on the rest and take care of them. Were you feeling excluded from the conversation? Did you feel bored? 

“What are you doing here so alone?” he asks, making you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at him– a stone falling off his heart at the action– before you shrug at him.

“Washing the dishes,” you say, as if it wasn’t clear already.

“I see that,” Eric chuckles, “what I meant to say was, why are you washing the dishes in the first place?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.” 

Eric huffs– and he doesn’t even know why he’s so defensive about it. “That someone didn’t have to be you, y’know.”

He’s standing next to you now– your eyes meeting as you stare at the boy for a heartbeat– a smile spreading on your face at his furrowed brows. The action has him visibly relax, watching as you shrug and get back to the dish washing. “I just wanted some alone time for a bit,” you muse, “outside was getting too loud for a second, I’m not used to crowds.”

“Ah… once Sunwoo drinks, he can’t shut up, so I kinda get that it was starting to feel insufferable,” Eric notes, nodding at you in acknowledgement before the realization hits him. “Wait– you said you wanted to be alone, so I should probably-”

You halt him with a soft laugh– the one Eric finds his heart liking a little too much, with how it jumps up and down and makes all of him feel warm inside– a soapy hand reaching out in his direction. “It’s okay, you can stay,” you muse, “I enjoy your company.”

“O-okay,” Eric stutters– so much for the smooth lines he had prepared in his head before coming in here, all of them flying out of his head straight out of the window– and to not seem so silly, he gets his hands occupied and reaches for the clean dishes you started stacking on the counter next to the sink, deciding to dry them and put them away. The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence that only gets broken by an occasional scream landing through the walls from outside, and Eric can’t help but indulge himself in the domesticity of the act.

He can almost imagine you two washing the dishes like this in your shared apartment after you two cook dinner together and eat it in your cozy living room. That scenario sounds almost too good for the boy, having warmth slowly ooze into his cheeks, and that, he finds to be the hint that he should probably stop thinking about you in that way now or else he’ll get too distracted and break the glasses he is currently putting away. (God forbid– there were not enough of them for the entire friend group in the first place.)

“Are you having a good time, though?” Eric finds himself asking through his weird delirium.

You smile– oh god you smile, you should stop doing that if you want him to survive the night– and nod at the boy, calmness overtaking your aura and slipping into his cracks as well. “I am. It’s nice meeting new people and everyone’s very nice,” you say.

“That’s good to hear. How long have you and Yeri been friends?”

“A couple of years,” you note, “we met during high school. We always dreamt of moving away to college and living together at dorms or something, so it’s… it’s nice that it worked out for us,” you say, having Eric nod at your words with a sweet smile.

“That’s great to hear,” he muses, “I met Juyeon and Sunwoo in my freshman year of college, and the rest just… came along after a while.”

“Your friend group is pretty big,” you point out, having the boy shrug.

“I guess so,” Eric mumbles, never really thinking of it this way– in his eyes, this was normal. This was how he operated, how he lived. A lot of people around him, always close– one would think such a large friend group wouldn’t be as close with each other, but it’s quite the opposite in his case, he thinks. Maybe he was just blessed.

“How do you do that?” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I dunno,” he snickers, “guess you could say I’m quite the social butterfly.”

“I can see that,” you laugh. Eric watches you, his hands now empty of any dish– he’s been drying them quicker than you manage to clean (and rightfully so, the food is stuck on there) – he starts noticing the details of your sheer presence. How you have a slight smile playing with your lips even when your eyes are glued to the sink, how your hair slightly slips out of the claw clip and frames your face, how close you’re standing– his eyes slip towards your hands, noticing the water running down your forearms and dangerously close to the sleeves of your shirt.

Acting on reflex, mostly, the boy reaches towards your sleeves and gently tugs them up, the contact of your skin that he initiates and should realistically be prepared for making the tips of his fingers tingle, the action having you stop in your movements and glance up at him through your eyelashes– a sight he wishes he could engrave into the back of his eyelids so he could stare at it forever and always.

“Thank you,” you hum, voice barely louder than a whisper when he retracts away from you, taking his previous stance against the kitchen counter.

Eric hangs his head low for a second, clearing his throat to ease his own tension. Now is your turn to start up the conversation, a casual question falling off your lips as you get back to washing the last remains of dishes. “Yeri said you come here often?” 

The boy nods enthusiastically to your sentence. “We do. We started in freshman year, because Juyeon was going to this exchange program to Paris for a couple of months, so we threw him a goodbye party. Then he came back, so we threw a welcome back party here. And then we celebrated Younghoon hyung’s birthday here, and it kind of stuck, I guess? We go here at least once a year during summer.”

“That’s a nice tradition to have,” you sigh, turning the faucet off as you finish rinsing off the last dish– a big bowl that Sangyeon used to marinate the meat a few hours ago.

“It is,” Eric nods, smiling fondly at the sentiment. He reaches for the bowl and dries it with the now damp rag (there were a lot of dishes to dry, after all), and moves to put it back to its place under the sink. With your figure still in its previous spot, the boy puts away the towel onto the kitchen counter and gently grabs your waist with his free hand, moving you away a few inches to the left. He crouches and opens the cabinet under the sink and puts the bowl into the pyramid of other ones, straightening his back when he goes back into a standing position, catching you staring at him from above, watching his every move. Your body is leaning against the counter, having Eric mirror your stance only a few inches away from you before speaking up again. 

“You’re welcome to join us when we come back next time.”

The time reads 3AM– or at least that’s what his circadian rhythm tells him, because he doesn't bother to check as he twists and turns in the bed, too hot and too alert to fall asleep– when Eric decides to walk down the steep stairs and try to get some fresh air. The cabin is hot inside, but he still takes his lost button-up that he had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on before he makes his way outside, knowing that the forest will make his bones get cold with the crisp breeze. 

He opens the door and moves to sit on the little patio– the silence of outside is overwhelming even after the cabin has quieted down and everyone has gone to sleep (each one on a different level of tipsy ranging from completely chill Sangyeon to doesn’t know where he is Sunwoo– with Eric somewhere in the middle of the spectrum). His legs drag a little tiredly as he scans his surroundings– god forbid there’s a bear out waiting for him– when the sight of a figure sitting on the floor takes him by surprise, their head already turned to him after hearing the sound of the door opening. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he walks over to you, noticing your frame dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, hinting that you at least tried to get some sleep before coming out here, just like he has.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug, confirming his suspicions.

“Same here,” the man sighs, “mind if I sit with you?”

“You’re welcome to join me,” you smile at him, patting the floor next to you and watching as Eric crouches down before taking a seat on the wood, ignoring the sunbeds and old rattan chairs situated all over the patio. (If you’re on the floor, he’s on the floor– it’s as simple as that.)

You’re holding a lollipop in between your fingers, your other hand occupied with a half-empty bottle of tequila that was previously passed around the circle at the bonfire. Eric raises his brows at the sight, having you shamefully avert your gaze from him.

“I thought it would be a waste to not finish this,” you say, snickering, “and I also… kind of hoped that it would put me to sleep…”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” 

“I guess you could say that,” you laugh. Taking a sip from the bottle, you gulp the alcohol down before putting the lollipop inside of your mouth, sucking on it and licking your lips after. This is not the way you’re supposed to drink tequila, but Eric figures that gathering salt and a lime would be too much work anyways.

“Are you really using that lollipop as a chaser?” he giggles, making you hum.

“Yeah,” you stare at him, a grin overtaking your features, “this girl taught me to do that at a party last year. It’s not as good as literally anything else, but it gets the job done. Wanna try?” you ask, offering him the sweetness on the stick and the bottle.

The truth is, you were only a bit tipsy when the group slowly started to scatter into their beds. Eric didn’t drink as much either– only enough to make him laugh at everything that was said and make his staring at you twice as obvious as it was before– so he thinks he can take some more. As you said, it would be a shame if the bottle went to waste– and also, something about the idea of drinking with you alone on the patio was making his hopeless heart hammer against his chest in dangerous measures.

“Sure,” he agrees, taking the bottle first. The boy takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat, and when he moves the dark brown glass away from his lips, he is met with the image of you leaning closer to him, offering him the lollipop. His hand instinctively grabs the plastic stick, thinking you’re letting go of it, when he’s met with the feeling of your flesh under his fingertips. You put the lollipop against his lips, making him open up on instinct and suck on the strawberry flavored candy, a million different sensations (all unrelated to the alcohol) swimming through his brain– you’re so close, you smell so good, he’s holding your hand, he’s sucking on the lollipop you previously had in between your lips and it’s driving him crazy– before you take the candy out from between his lips and put it back into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sweet ball. 

The lollipop had an aftertaste of tequila on it, but it was enough to chase down the faint bitterness– Eric finds himself wanting to taste more of the sweet strawberry, but foolishly desiring to get the sensation off your lips instead. His eyes stay locked with yours throughout the whole exchange, sparks flying in between the two of you even though the bonfire has long gone out, his fingers lazily dropping from the candy.

“How was it?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper– goosebumps appearing all over Eric’s skin when he swears your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second. 

“Good,” he admits. It’s silly how he feels so breathless at the action.

The sound of the wind playing with the leaves of the forest is the only thing accompanying you two. It’s as if you two were thinking of the same thing when you pull out the lollipop out of your mouth and offer it back to Eric, watching with utmost interest as the boy leans closer to capture it in between his lips, never breaking eye contact. The action feels a little too electrifying to him, a little too intimate, but he can't stop– can't even imagine wanting to.

Taking a sip of the tequila, but not chasing it down with the candy, you speak up again, lazy eyes practically glued to him. “This would be a perfect moment for a kiss…” you mumble, licking your bottom lip for a split second before biting down on it.

“Are you flirting with me?” Eric foolishly asks, tone of voice a bit weak, a little unsure, the candy still in his mouth, making his words come out a little jambled.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning to yourself– Eric wonders how much of your behavior and how much of his raging heartbeat is due to the effect of alcohol in both of your veins.

His fingers pull at yours as he takes the candy out of his mouth, voice dropping as he answers you. “Then we probably shouldn’t waste the moment.”

Even though the intentions are clear, the boy can’t bring himself to make the first move– he’s completely enchanted with your presence, staring at you with tension in his shoulders and eyes trained onto your face, watching and examining it for any shift or change. Focused on the way you move, he thinks you must have realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step– your lazily smile before you lean closer, impossibly close– making Eric’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation, your breath fanning his face making goosebumps appear all over his body.

When your lips finally touch his, he feels like he’s being kissed for the first time again, with the amount of fuzziness in his stomach and buzzing in his ears. He regains his composure quite quickly, though, as he positions his head in a way that makes you two even closer to each other, lips pressing firmer against yours now. His hand instinctively reaches out to hold your jaw, fingertips glazing the soft skin under them, your lips retracting only to go in for more. 

Blindly placing the bottle onto the floor next to your bodies, you peck his lips and sigh into the kiss. “Damn, you’re good at this…”

“We’re only getting started,” he muses, making you chuckle. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nods, watching as you once again lean in and suck on his upper lip, making his eyes flutter close again. A weight appears over him as you shift in your place and move to straddle his lap, your hand moving to cup his cheek and tilt him upwards, everything about the kisses getting more hurried– less gentle, less hesitant– when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and grant your tongue entry into his mouth.

Sweetness mixes in between you, your hands moving around his neck, heavy breaths shared across the patio. Eric feels like he’s levitating, his body having an out of body experience, yet being awfully present– every little shift pushing him to overdrive, the slightest touch making his skin burn and heart drum against his ribcage.

You shift in his lap, making him huff under the pressure, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth glazing the jointure of your shoulder, kitten licking the place and sucking in a bruise that will eventually be visible to everyone when you two wake up in the morning, Eric feels your hands tugging down the sleeves of his shirt, fingers feeling up his biceps. The action makes him chuckle into your neck, but the smile fades quickly as he feels your nails scratching gently at his flaming skin.

“Take this off,” you mutter, and Eric finds it endearing– helping you take him out of the button-up, sitting under you in just a white tank top and black basketball shorts. 

“Why?” 

“Your arms looked good in this,” you hiss before you hide your face into his neck, leaning down to give him your fair share of kisses and love bites, having the male teasingly joke as his hands run up under your tank top, painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra anymore.

He moves his head to the side to give you more access before speaking out, tone of voice husky and coated in lust. “What if I get cold now?” 

“Then I’m more than happy to move this to your room,” you purr into his ear.

Eric sighs, fingers playing with the hem of your top before he lets his palms drift towards your exposed stomach, roaming across naked skin. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the action, making the boy victoriously grin. “It looks like you’re the one that's cold, though, babydoll.”

Rolling your eyes at the male, you shut him up by latching yourself onto his lips before you speak against his mouth. “I’ll take that as an invitation, then?”

“Wake up Eric! The girls are leaving, you should at least go say goodbye!” Sangyeon roars into the boy's room, making the male turn over in the bed and huff out in frustration. He drags his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight hitting his face, the intention of just rolling over and sleeping more written very clearly in his face.

“Come on man, we’re leaving in an hour too, so you should go send them off and then pack your shit so we can load the cars,” Sangyeon says when he gets no reaction from the youngest. It’s to no use, apparently, and so as the oldest and most observant out of the group, Sangyeon decides to use physical force– he knows Eric would hate to have you go without saying goodbye. He’s not stupid. Or blind. 

A strong hold on his calves drags Eric out of the bed and makes his half-naked body fall to the floor, a yelp coming out of his throat finally making Eric’s body fully alert and awake. 

“Yo! What the fuck–”

“Put a shirt on and go say goodbye to Y/N before she goes, would you, sleeping beauty?” Sangyeon huffs before rolling his eyes at his younger friend, escaping the room and shutting the door close after himself with a loud thud (to add more effect to the scolding, Eric thinks).

The mention of your name has Eric quickly scrambling out of the bed. His heart hammers at the adrenaline rush, pulling a clean shirt out of his bag and dragging it over his head, the basketball shorts from yesterday’s night found on the floor being pulled over his lower frame in approximately 0.5 seconds. Eric takes the stairs 3 at a time– with how steep they are, he questions how exactly does he not trip and break his spine on his way down– and puts on a pair of slippers he finds at the door (that are not his, or his size, for the matter, making his heels comically stick out from the back). 

Without checking his appearance in the mirror anywhere, he swings the door open and walks out of the cabin, watching as the group settles in a half-circle around your car, Yeri loading the trunk with her duffle bag before she closes it shut and smiles at her boyfriend Juyeon on the side. Eric joins the crowd, clearing his throat when his eyes fall onto your figure, the sight in front of him freezing him in his spot.

You’re standing there, in your jean shorts from the day before, an oversized white button-up enveloping your frame. A clueless stranger might not tell the difference, but he does– you put the shirt onto your bare skin and buttoned it just enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage– and it’s so similar to the outfit you had on yesterday, just with one difference. 

You’re wearing Eric’s shirt. You’re wearing his shirt and your neck is scattered with red and purple-ish bruises, and no, Eric wasn’t that drunk and he remembers everything, but the events of last night suddenly play out right in front of his eyes like a movie, still nailing him to his spot and wiping out all of his vocabulary.

The boy feels hot in his cheeks as he watches you and your best friend pay your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, the men pulling you into side-hugs and fist bumps, shared ‘It was nice meeting you’s and ‘You should come by next time too’s resonating through the place. Soon enough, you reach the end of the make-shift half circle and lock your eyes with Eric, a playful smile softly appearing on your face.

“It was nice meeting you, Eric,” you hum, “I had fun,” you note, shooting him a knowing look.

“Me too,” he nods, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t know where the confidence of last night went, but he suddenly feels unarmed and lost. What does one do now?

The sight of you in his shirt makes him feel like his biggest (wet) dream has come true– call him cheesy, but it also wakes up a sense of déja vu in him from the day before– you with sunlight in your eyes, hair messed up in a claw clip. He feels like he just fell in love at first sight again. Is that even possible?

It’s good you have a sense in you that makes you take the initiative and be in charge when you see him faltering. A giggle cuts out of your throat as you lean in and hug the boy around his neck, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you speak in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be heard by the men around you.

“I stole your shirt from you, by the way. You should text me if you want it back, so we can meet up, or something,” you mouth, lips gently glazing the sensitive skin of Eric’s ear, and god does he feel like he's going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen this causes in his lungs.

“You look amazing in my clothes, so I won’t ask for it back,” Eric hums, “but I’ll text you just in case you ever wanna bless my eyes with the sight again.”

“Deal. I’ll make Juyeon text me your number,” you say before you pull away from him, shooting him a wink that almost has his knees buckling like a school boy in love for the first time.

You walk backwards and wave at the group, sending Eric one last look before you join the passenger’s side and close the car door behind you, the sound of Yeri starting the engine resonating through the quiet forest. The men wave at you until the Toyota disappears out of sight, only scattering inside when it does to gather their things and load up their cars as well.

Eric is woken up from his trance by a teasing whistle coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth and a father-like slap to his back from Sangyeon.

He wonders if he’s truly being so obvious. (He's unaware of the fact that you two had very visible matching love bites on your necks. It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together– don't tell him that, though.)

Still, Eric shrugs and goes inside with a different kind of pep to his step. 

When he licks his lips, he swears he can still taste the strawberries.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #14: The Valentines Day Debacle

“debacle • \dee-BAH-kul\ • noun.

1 : a tumultuous breakup of ice in a river 

2 : a violent disruption (as of an army) : rout

3 a : a great disaster b : a complete failure : fiasco.”

~ It was Valentine’s Day and Jason regrets agreeing to go on this date.

Weelll, kind of, but not exactly.

This “date” was actually a covert-op with three caped chaperones because he, Steph, Tim and Cass were all on cases that ended up being the same case.

Steph and Tim had caught wind of some allegedly magic potions becoming popular among college students used to help students score dates with their up coming Valentines. There weren’t any outright love potions but confidence boosters, things to increase your attractiveness, luck boosters, thing to get people in the mood. They had been investigating into it to make sure this wasn’t secretly a drug ring but found it to some real magical bullshit. They’d located the source’s lair/lab where they brewed the potions but not the potion brewer themselves.

Cass had been in Hong Kong when she caught wind of one of her targets following rumors of a witch who specialized in potions to grant small boons and bewitching charms. After dealing with her target she started tracking down the witch to find out her goals and intentions. She followed her trail across Asia, Europe and a good portion of the eastern seaboard before her path led her to Gotham.

Jason was investigating some upper middle class chick that started hanging around the alley trying to get in with the prostitutes and drag queens(and only succeeding in making them suspicious). She met several young men who abandoned the gang allegiances too trail after her like puppies. His investigation showed she was also circling Gotham elites and was in search of gossip on two things: people looking for love and a beau for herself.

They had been going over their cases at a team meeting when they realized their 3 targets were all the same woman. Between the four of them they pieced out she was some new age witch, descendent from an older family line looking to get rich and in a relationship. Her potions weren't really actively harmful but her use of them to gain the upper hand in business deals and amass a following of boytoys she decided weren’t hunky enough for her but would do as muscle was.

Tim and Steph knew she was planning on selling her potions at the Valentine’s/Winter market place in Robinson Park coming up. Jason and Cass knew she was looking to net some more followers while they were there so the plan was simple. One of the guys would go undercover to try and get recruited while the others stayed nearby for back up. They’d try to get some information out of her and if the need for it arose, to take her into custody and hand her off to the Justice League Dark. They’d already talked to Zatana to have her ready to come to Gotham should things go awry and gotten a charm from her to prevent them from getting put under her control.

Oh if only this didn’t go so wrong.

Unfortunately for Jason, he matched their little witch’s tastes to a tee. Thus, he was the one stuck being dragged around market under the guise of having agreed to a date with her. She dragged him around, made him pay for her things, tried to use his stature to intimidate others and was generally rude to the other patrons and staff. Oh, Jason despised her but grit his teeth and pretended to play nice. Cass was investigating her stall and Steph and Tim were tailing them.

Finally over the comms he heard the team confirm Cass had found the info she was looking for and he could finally ditch little miss witch. He broke it to her that he thought this wouldn’t work out and her eye just twitched. She must have tried to charm him because she asked him to stay with her and become her main beau, which he soundly refused. This set her off on a rage as she screeched over how her charm didn’t work and how Jason would have been perfect if she’d been able to get him under her thumb. He tried to back off when she lashed out with a magic rope insisting once she captured Jason he’d be the perfect leader to her adoring little boyfriend army.

So yeah she was more psycho than anticipated.

Spoiler and Red Robin began to swoop in for the rescue which only served to enraged her further. That’s when the team learned that she was talented in more than just potions. She used her magic to start awakening magical creatures in the park surrounding them. Nymphs shed from trees and little snow golems formed and began attacking RR and Spoiler.

Black Bat had run over to extract Jason when the witch noticed her. She shrieked in outraged proclaiming if she couldn’t have Jason no one else would and that he could become fish food for the frost creatures of Far Frozen before picking him up with a spectral vine and slamming him through the frozen lake into a swirling blue portal. Cass tried to go after him but the witch quickly engaged her with too much feral rage to realize she was outclassed in hand to hand against Black Bat. By the time Steph and Tim fought off the nymphs and golems it was too late. Whatever whirling portal had been in the lake closed and Jason was no where to be found.

As Jason pushed through the ice he had one final thought before he felt himself black out: ‘Worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

~ The first thing Jason felt when he came to was cold. He was still submerged under icy water. It was chilled him to the core but was almost soothing in a way. As if cooling of a burn. As is opened his eyes the world seemed to move in slow motion. He was still underwater surrounded by chunks of ice. He could make out sounds of distorted yelling as the world seem to get even slower.

Suddenly he felt something grab his collar and place itself under his arm. Jason was unceremoniously hoisted out of a frozen river and laid out on a river bank. He let out a harsh cough and his head got dizzy. He tried to regain his wits long enough to see who pulled him out.

It was large figure, maybe an inch or two taller than his 6 foot, with the bulk of a viking and the looks of one too. The man appeared to be around the same age as Jason, possibly older, and very concerned. He had messy white hair that was tied(or braided? Jason’s vision was still blurry) in the back. He was wearing armor made of some sort of hide leather and a dark gray metal (iron?) and covered in snow-white furs.

Jason stared at his savior trying to get his wits about him, willing his vision to clear. That’s Jason felt a warm fur cloak wrap around him as the man said something Jason wasn’t able to comprehend. He let out another harsh cough and felt himself being picked up in a princess carry. His rescuer moved incredibly fast for someone carrying a man of Jason’s stature. However, the motion did not help with the dizziness or the cold. Jason shivered, curling towards his “heroic knight” and pulling the cloak tighter around himself. This spurred the man to go faster.

Finally, everything stopped moving and Jason felt himself encompassed in warmth. Several more furs were wrapped around him and he was laid down to rest. At last Jason’s vision cleared enough to see the other man’s face properly. He had a rugged face and a strong jawline. He had a small scar near his eyebrow and round eyes with light eye bags beneath them. He had a straight nose and bow-shaped lips.

Jason felt the world slow down again and realized he’d soon pass out from the cold. The man lifted Jason’s head and slipped a pillow underneath. A rough hand gently pushed the wet hair out of his face and caressed his cheek. Jason stared into the man’s eye. They were kind, gentle, and such a vibrant green they seemed to glow. The man gave him a small smile and the last thing Jason heard before falling asleep was a soothing voice telling him “Rest, we will take care of you.” And with that Jason felt himself relax and fell asleep.

~ When Jason came to the first thing he saw was a 20-something-foot tall yeti with an icy cybernetic arm looming over the foot of his bed.

He promptly screamed and fell out of bed.

A vaguely familiar voice called out from another room.

“ FROSTBITE! I thought I told you not to scare him!”

In walked the man that had saved Jason from an icy death. Upon closer inspection now that he wasn’t dying the man seem 10 times as beautiful than Jason remembered. He almost seemed to have this ethereal glow to him. The man continued to admonish the yeti who just laughed heartily and continued on with whatever task he was trying to complete. The man turned his attention to Jason, smiling at him in apology and lifting him back into the bed.

“ I’m sorry about Frostbite. He won’t admit it but I think he gets a crack out of scaring his patients,” He said with a placating chuckle. His mirthful eyes met Jason’s puzzled ones and he continued on as he began to fiddle with few thermoses, seemingly searching for one in particular.

“ You must be quite confused. I don’t exactly know how you ended up here but this place called the Far Frozen. I felt a pulse of magic near the river and went to investigate and ended up fished you of the water. You were nearly frozen so I brought you back to village where you could get warmed up and medics like Frostbite could help you before the actual frostbite set in.”

He chuckled at his own joke before placing a cup in Jason’s hands.

“ It’s soup, drink up. It’ll help you get warm.”

Jason hesitantly took a sip of his soup. It was surprisingly good! He continued to sip his soup and Jason observed the man. He had a rather muscular build Jason noticed, staring at the man for no other reason than assessing if he’d be a potential threat (and for absolutely no other reason). Danny finished closing up his thermos and continued to speak.

“ I promise once Frostbite treats you for any illness or injury. I’ll help you get home. -Oh where are my manners” he held his hand out for Jason to shake. “You can call me Phantom.”

“ Call me Jay,” he replied, taking Phantom’s hand and a glance at his biceps. Phantom pulled away and stood up.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to resting. I’ll come back later when Frostbite gives you a check up and we can talk about how you got here and how to get you back” He turned and began to walk out before turning his head back one last time and waved. “I’ll see in a bit Jay.”

Jason watched him go and fell back into bed having finished his soup. As he pulled the furs and blankets back over himself he thought ‘Well maybe it’s not the worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys with a jealous gf

☆ characters: zoro, law, sanji

☆ up next: cuddling with one piece boys ft. shanks, rayleigh, benn and roger

☆ a/n: for the anon request about being jealous of the boys... i deviated a little from the request but this will definitely have a part 2!

zoro 

“Three hundred million, hm?” she said batting her lashes at him, “With muscles like that I guess it’s not really a surprise!”

Zoro absent-mindedly nodded, much more focused on the katana in front of him. 

“What’s this one?”

“That’s a newer model, popularized in the East Blue. Fishermen designed it.”

“It’s lousy.”

She frowned, pouting her lips out, “That’s too bad, it looks nice when you use it.”

He gave a hmph in response, still mainly focused on the array of swords in the store. 

“Why don’t I show you a Wazamono we have in the back?”

Zoro paused for a moment, thinking about the offer.

“Alright,” he shrugged, and like a dumb puppy, started following her to the back.

You should have been shopping with Nami, but the two of you were rather unsatisfied with the stores you had to choose from and ended up going to get some snacks instead. 

And thanks to this unexpectedly short shopping spree, you had been outside the weapons shop watching most of this exchange.

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red and Nami insisted that he was probably totally oblivious to the flirting. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She sighed, “I guess not… Why don’t you go after him?”

“That’s embarrassing, and you’re probably right anyway.”

You sat with your shoulders crossed and closed your eyes, letting out a long exhale as you tried to think of something else.

“Oh, look! They’re coming back out.”

You decided you might as well go in now before your idiot of a boyfriend dug himself any deeper. 

You were seething as you made your way toward the shop, the woman very obviously lowering her shirt collar in front of him. 

“Zoro!” you walked into the shop, not even glancing towards the saleswoman. 

“Hi, Y/n,” he muttered, using different grips to try out the swords, recognizing you immediately, even if just by your voice. 

“Anything good?” you asked, slightly irritated when he didn’t even turn to look at you and called you by your name instead of his usual ‘baby’. 

“No,” he replied, still toying with the weapon.

You indulged in a small smirk as you watched the expression on the girl’s face turn into one of irritation. She rolled her eyes. 

“Are you sure you didn’t want to take another look in the back?” she asked, gently putting her hand on Zoro’s- which clearly irritated him, 

“You seemed to like what I had to offer.”

She put on an infuriatingly suggestive tone for the second part of her sentence. 

Zoro held the sword he’d been looking at up, any innuendo flying entirely over his head. 

“That’s true… Yeah, I guess I’ll take another look-”

You slapped the back of his head and grabbed the sword out of his hands, throwing them onto the counter.

“What the hell-”

“We’re going back to the ship. Now.”

You turned abruptly and stormed out of the shop, not bothering to pick up the weapons you’d ‘accidentally’ knocked over on your way out. 

Zoro offered the woman an apologetic look and ran after you. 

Nami was waiting for you both outside, and when he turned to her in hopes of being given some kind of indication of what just happened, she simply said, “You should probably think twice before you flirt with a woman for half an hour in front of your girlfriend.”

Zoro’s cheeks changed colors as he started to realize what everything had probably looked like from an outside perspective.

Oh, fuck.

Zoro decided that being another ฿100,000 in debt to Nami would be worth making it up to you, and after losing his breath trying to explain the situation to you he took you shopping for the rest of the night. 

The next few days you spent docked on the island, Zoro refused to move away from your side. 

And any looks or stares he got from women- young or old, pretty or not- were returned with only the most threatening of glances. 

law

“You can do something right Traffy?” Luffy’s concern for his crewmate made your chest ache, and you desperately hoped that it wasn’t too late for something to be done.

Unexpected cannon fire from a nearby Marine battleship caught you all off-guard and resulted in Nami passing out from a collision with the walls of the ship. 

Law nodded, gently picking her up.

You felt a slightly nauseating feeling forming in your stomach but quickly pushed it away because now was definitely not the time to be feeling jealous. 

You waited with the rest of the Strawhats as he worked on stabilizing her in the doctor’s office. 

Chopper was currently passed out as well from having overexerted himself and falling overboard. 

Usopp had taken care of it and he seemed to be doing okay but there was no way he could have helped anyone in his current state. 

A tense fifteen minutes later Law walked out to inform everyone that it wasn’t as bad of a hit to the head as it had seemed and she’d be waking up in a few hours.

“I’ll still run a few tests once she’s up just to make sure.”

“Y/n-ya,” Law called you over to him, “Want to help with Nami? I could use an extra hand.”

You nodded, happy he asked you. 

You walked with him to the infirmary, and when no one was around he held your hand.

The last thing either of you really wanted was for any one of the Strawhats to know you were together. 

When you entered the room Nami was awake.

“Torao! Thanks for all this,” she gestured towards the bandages and IV. 

“No problem, Nami-ya,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulled out his stethoscope.

“Write down the info I give you.”

You nodded and started writing down all the different numbers and medical jargon he threw at you. 

He talked with Nami and made no effort to include you in the conversation.

Nami’s chest had been bandaged and you tried your best to not think about the fact that he had been the one to bandage it. 

You fought back the urge to show any irritation on your face.

Law did not want any of them to know about you two. 

You knew Nami was just friendly and probably still kind of out of it, but the sickening feeling of insecurity started to seep into your body and you were becoming increasingly impatient with how damn long this was taking.

He was more talkative than usual, and you were positive that it had to do with the absolutely gorgeous woman in front of him. 

“One forty over seventy.”

He was treating you like a secretary! 

He cracked a terrible joke to Nami and when she actually laughed at it you decided you’d had enough.

You threw the notepad at him and walked out, telling him to take his own damn notes. 

He went to find you a few hours later, and ask if you were okay.

He found you painting your nails in the Sunny’s library. 

“I’m fine, Law.”

“Mmm... Definitely not true,” he said, sitting down next to you. 

“How’s the patient.”

Oh, he thought, That’s what this is about.

“Good. Stable. She should sleep soundly through the night.”

You said nothing.

“I appreciate your help back there!”

He pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm.”

After a while of Law trying to get you to talk to him, you relented a little bit and agreed to let him read while you finished your nails.

After an hour you had almost forgiven him entirely, deciding that you were overreacting and it didn’t matter now that Chopper would be able to take care of her. 

You had just settled yourself against his chest when he spoke.

“I have to go check on Nami-ya soon.”

“But Chopper’s able to now.”

Law smiled, “I know. She’s still my patient.”

“I get it,” you said, jealousy having won, “I’d also be eager to play nurse if I had a patient as hot as her.”

“Bingo,” he replied. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and decided not to say anything, simply getting up, batting away his hands when he tried to grab hold of you.

You stormed out, slamming the door shut and ignoring how he called out for you to come back. 

You rolled your eyes as you heard Law laughing to himself. 

Law trusted you with his life. 

He had no secrets with you and you knew everything someone could possibly know about the doctor, reclusive and quiet as he may be.

But, just now, Law decided that there would be one thing you could never know:

How much he absolutely adored seeing you jealous.  

sanji

“Would you like another drink, beautiful?”

You rolled your eyes and hastily closed your book, gathering the few things you’d brought with you to the kitchen. 

“And my gorgeous Y/n-” he paused when he turned to see you headed toward the door, “Y/n where are you going?”

You closed the door behind you, ignoring him. 

It was easy to be jealous when Sanji was your crush. He’d never failed to shamelessly compliment other beautiful women, and you were not a stranger to that terrible feeling of jealousy spreading throughout your body. 

When Luffy announced that Boa Hancock would be staying with you all for a week or so you made a mental note to spend as much time in the library as possible.

You knew what you’d signed up for when you kissed Sanji for the first time, that it was in his nature to be a lover. 

Of course, he was desperately in love with you. If you asked him for something he’d have it done before you could finish your request, and he catered to you like he was your personal butler. 

Even though you weren’t official, it was clear that there were deeper feelings brewing between the kissing and touching. 

He’d never done anything worse than complimenting a woman, and you were beyond positive that he hadn’t kissed anyone after the two of you kissed, but he was so irritatingly articulate. 

You’d feel jealousy cloud your thinking when he’d talk to a woman, using turns of phrase that Shakespeare himself couldn’t have come up with. Of course, he was never more romantic or genuine than when he was with you, but you wanted that attention entirely to yourself. 

Boa Hancock’s arrival and subsequent welcoming had played out exactly as you had expected.

Heat flooded your cheeks and face when you watched a small trickle of blood pouring from his nose, and he ran to greet her. 

You left before you could watch anything else happen and still hadn't so much as introduced yourself to her. 

Logically, you understood that it wasn’t her fault but her insufferable vanity didn’t help. 

And though she never even pretended to entertain Sanji, she clearly didn’t mind the treatment. 

Every meal revolved around her, her favorite foods, and pastries that were pink and heart-shaped. Cocktails and drinks and snacks for Boa. Everything for her. 

You weren’t even sure he had noticed you were ignoring him. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you’d decided to try some tactics of your own. Your skirts got shorter and your heels higher. 

Today you’d opted for a pair of leggings he’d mentioned liking and a sports bra that was low cut. 

It had worked, until she walked into the room. 

You couldn’t exactly blame him, despite your evident dislike for her she was undeniably gorgeous and you caught yourself staring at her more than once. Luckily, you always noticed before she did. 

As you made your way toward the library you saw Sanji through the kitchen window, not failing to notice that he was preparing a mountain of heart-shaped pastries.

What a clown, you thought. 

A sudden clanking of metal jolted you out of your own thoughts. You turned to see Zoro mid-workout, dropping weights onto the lawn, ruining the grass.

He was sweaty and the sun was helping highlight the pounds upon pounds of intricately toned and sculpted muscle that covered him. 

You stared for longer than you meant to. 

“Oi!” Zoro called out to you. 

“Hey, Zoro,” you walked over to him. 

“You okay?”

You nodded, looking up at him with a confused expression. 

“You look like shit,” he explained.

“Thanks, man.”

You asked Zoro what he was up to and he started explaining the different workouts he was doing. 

While he explained you noticed that Sanji could see the two of you from the kitchen window where he was now washing dishes. 

A cruel idea popped into your head and a devilish smile made its way onto your face. 

Sanji wasn’t your boyfriend, and based on the way he’d been acting around every different woman he saw you figured he didn’t want to be. 

If he just wanted to occasionally make out with you and throw his attention and touch at every other woman on the seas then that was fine by you. 

But two could play at that game. 

You made eye contact through the kitchen window, and smiled at him. 

Good. He was watching you.

“Hey, Zoro,” you started, “Need a sparring partner?”

[recreationalfanfics]

Hello sweetcheeks If you don't mind whether I can request Shiva, Hades, Hercules and Tesla with the very beautiful goddess S/O whose beauty even exceeds Aphrodite, S/O is very elegant and friendly to humans on earth. S/O also really loves immortals. You can freely ignore my request, don't forget to take care of your health and always drink water

Again, I only really follow the anime so I'm only writing for Shiva and Hercules but either way, I hope you like it!

Shiva (+ Wives):

- He loves you and all his wives equally, and while you were recently added into the relationship BUT TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THAT YOU NEVER FEEL LEFT OUT, not when Shiva himself has to keep all four of his arms wrapped around you just because Parvati, Kali, and Durga HAVE BEEN HOGGING YOUR ATTENTION ALL DAY.

- Shiva is so proud to show you off to the other gods, honestly. Making them all jealous and inflating his own ego a bit more.

- He doesn't just show you off, he likes to show off for you. When he's playfully fighting another God then he'll be sure to really flex his muscles and put on a show for you and wink, making you all shy and flustered which is ADORABLE in his eyes.

- He also doesn't just love you for your looks of course, your heart is so incredibly kind and loving. Which contrasts very nicely to his recklessness and sometimes violent side. He smiles seeing you with his son because you always uplift him and treat him like any mother would with their child.

- HE ALSO LOVES TO DANCE WITH YOU AND SO DO HIS WIVES. Like, they invite you and you stun them with your gracefulness and elegance, such poise and control in your steps.

- You were absolutely enchanting, even by a God's standards and everyday, Shiva is just in awe of you. When he's bored and lazy, he asks you if you can dance with him and gives you big puppy eyes to convince you so you roll your eyes and stand up and he gets all happy.

- Your love for humans can lead to...conflicts. Like, he already knew it and he found it odd but endearing but he still has his own opinions about them and they're not very good until Ragnarok happens.

- But, like, when the God's vote for humanity's execution and you're horrified at how they could all be so cruel, Shiva just genuinely can't wrap his head around it but he'll comfort you, a bit guiltily.

- So there is a gap in which you need space from them because its an important topic and while all couples fight, it feels colder in his home because he and everyone else misses you so much.

- NO BUT ALSO, LIKE, AFTER HIS FIGHT, HE STARTS TO SEE WHY YOU LIKE THEM AND HE APOLOGIZES and you're just concerned because HIS ARMS ARE LITERALLY FUCKED UP and you just dote on him.

- Ngl, his wives kinda hate him for a bit now (not actually) because while you help him recover, he acts like a big baby just so you can comfort him and coddle him and give him all your attention and shooting his wives a smug smirk as they roll their eyes but smile as you take care of him because it feels so nice to have you back.

Hercules:

- PLEASE YOU TWO ARE LITERALLY A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN, LIKE, YOU GUYS ARE LEGIT THE SWEETEST COUPLE EVER😭

- The fact that he used to be human was what drew you to him, like, Ares and the other Greek gods were celebrating and Ares is all: "Woah, (Y/n)'s been looking at you the entire time." and Loki bitterly pouts: "Ugh, of course the human turned God caught her attention right off the bat."

- Hercules doesn't understand why they were making a big deal and turned around to see you...only to make direct eye contact with you and immediately getting all shy and flustered. You greeted him with such warmness and you talked about what it was like for him to become a God, then he started to talk about his life as a human.

- And unlike other gods who side eyed him or looked down on him, your eyes were filled with such wonder and awe at him. You had so many questions for humanity and the way you seemed to be fascinated with them makes it so clear to Hercules that you truly do have a passion for humanity just like him.

- THE OTHER GODS THINK YOU'RE SO WEIRD FOR IT BUT YOU GUYS DON'T CARE, he answers your questions about humanity and even takes you back to his home when he visits his friends and they're ALL STUNNED BY YOU.

- "I-Is that Aphrodite!?" and you just look at them and smile and their hearts beat 10x faster as you're all: "Aw, you humans truly are too kind. I am not the Goddess of Love, I am the Goddess of (insert what you want to be the Goddess of)."

- Your elegance also compliments his strength and almost brutish build, one thing you absolutely adore about Hercules is despite his strength, he always treats you so gently and is always mindful of his strength when he's with you.

- PLEASE HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES TO CARRY YOU ADMIRE YOUR BEAUTIFUL FORM, NO MATTER YOUR BODY TYPE, YOU ARE THE MOST PERFECT THING HE HAS EVER SEEN.

- No because when he volunteers to fight for the God's, you were confused but he explains why he's doing it and you just supporting him and having nothing more than the utmost confidence that he can guide the God's into seeing their wrongs.

[derangederensimp]

Jujutsu Kaisen Toji Head Canons

Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

CW: Angst, Fluff, Smut. Age gap

Let’s kick it off with angst…

When you first met Toji you thought he was an asshole, the way he stared glared at you made you roll your eyes. He eyed the cafes menu quickly before dropping his sites back on you “give me a cup of Chamomile and cookie would ya?” His voice was deep and sexy which you were expecting but he looked more like a coffee drinker but good taste. Giving him the total he was short a bit but you covered the change “have a good day” you said with a smile “yeah, whatever” he said walking away. You and a coworker talked about how he couldn’t even pay the full amount and still gave an attitude after your kindness instead of telling him to pick between the tea or the cookie. Sighing to yourself you doubted you’d see him again anyways. Few days later he walked in again, baggy pants, tight black shirt, and sandals. Stepping up to the counter he put the same amount of money on the counter as last time still short “give me the same thing I got last time” - “your short $1.50” you said. “You covered it last time” he stared blankly. If you had eyes in the back of your head you would’ve seen how closely Toji watched you prepare his tea and package up his cookie that he really didn’t even want but he liked that you were willing to pay for it. His gaze would go back to a blank stare when you returned to the counter. Again leaving with an attitude just to watch you for a moment through the glass at how flustered you looked. It was a reoccurring thing and you just kept paying for his difference each time getting more and more pissed off, your greeting were starting to sound like a nice “fuck you” to his ears. Which made him smirk. You finally learned his name, not by asking but you must’ve been staring at his muscles a bit too hard and he took it as you were hitting on him and wanted to introduce himself. After you told him your name he repeated it a few times before leaving. Weird. Few weeks went by before you saw him again and when he did come in you noticed his face had some cuts healing on it. “Can I have your number?” He asked, grabbing his tea from your hand, you stared at him with your mouth parted before you could speak. Your coworker shouted from the back “aren’t you a bit too old for her sir”. Your eye twitched as you slowly turned your head. Why are they ruining your chances to reject him on your own. Taking away the satisfaction of seeing the man’s ego crumble but again before you could he interrupted “if I wanted your number too I would’ve asked so why don’t you mind your business brat I just want the pretty woman’s number who can’t stop staring at me like I’m a piece of meat. And so you gave him your number while your face was beet red.

Once Toji sets his sights on something he doesn’t give up till he has it.

Toji the more you got to know him he wasn’t that much of an asshole but still was one

He is late picking you up for your first “date” but swears he will make it up later

He plays hard to get telling you that he isn’t really looking for a relationship but likes your company he finds you “interesting” you find him irritating.

Toji has the worst attitude but after getting to know him you learned how to navigate it.

You stood him up on this so called second date, he showed up to the cafe the next day pissed off and sat at the table without ordering till you came and talked to him. He was pouting like a puppy.

He kept texting you late at night and when he sometimes wouldn’t you’d get a strange ache in your chest that drove you insane. It’s not like you actually liked the guy right…

Fluff

Everything about him is attractive. His voice, his build, everything which makes it hard for you to not think about.

His scent was intoxicating

He stays up at night thinking of you too, he tries not to send to late of texts because he knows you’ll stay up chatting with him when you should be sleeping you have work and he well, his work he doesn’t want to talk about.

He is strong, funny, and makes you laugh.

His humor can take a bit to get used to but once you got it he made you laugh till you cried every time.

More and more of your shifts had to get picked up from other coworkers because Toji wanted to take up majority of your time.

Toji hates being fluffy but for you he will. When he sees your face light up whenever he brings you flowers his heart starts to race.

Toji was surprised when you grabbed his hand out of no where when you two were just walking in the park.

He’s not the romantic type be he’d learn for you.

The definition of if he wanted to he would 😭

To him it was like the world went silent whenever he was around you, he could finally breath.

He has the cutest smile, you wish you saw it more, it made your heart flutter.

He is clingy in private

Super cuddly

He falls first

He’s the big spoon but he will let you be the big spoon when you ask.

Showed affection by rubbing his thumb on either the palms of your hands or the backs of them instead of holding your hand in public

You didn’t even know you two were official till you two ran into someone he knew and he introduced you as his girlfriend. “What is it y/n. You’ve been staring at me longer than you usually do” he walked tucking his hands in his pockets. “You said I’m your girlfriend. I thought you didn’t want anything serious” he couldn’t stop laughing the scar on his lip captivating you. How strange it was for his face to go from super serious to a soft expression depending on what you said. His laughing stopped as he got closer to you “you’re cute” he said rubbing his thumb on your cheek “I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you y/n”

His lips are soft, you’d think with his appearance they wouldn’t be but they were.

His hands were soft too as he pulls you in deeper into the kiss.

When you’d pull away from a kiss his hands would remain on your lower back not letting you get away from him “don’t leave yet”

He’s sneaky, you haven’t noticed him when he is keeping an eye on you. He wished you’d observe your surroundings more.

Toji is a jealous man, he can’t stand when he sees you talking to male customers. It makes his eye twitch because that’s how he met you and got you in his hands.

He starts to become more affectionate and romantic in public to show everyone you belong to him.

He disappeared for two weeks without a word and when he popped up again he was bruised and bloody at your door step. He still refused to tell you what happened and said it was work related. You nursed him back to health and he told you he loved you first. You would’ve pounced him right then and there but he was injured.

He feels empty when you aren’t around.

He surprised you with a really fancy restaurant date that ended up being super expensive. He laughed at your facial expression when he paid in cash and left a hefty tip. He told you on the way back to your place that part of the money came from him not paying for his cookie every time he went to the cafe and he smirked at your face when you reacted “so I paid for your cookies for nothing” you said crossing your arms and fake pouting. “It was all in good fun sweetheart, you took care of me and now I’ll take care of you” he said, his hand rubbing the back of your palm.

When you invited him over to spend the night for the first time he couldn’t hide his smile. Which made you blush.

He takes things slow with you, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

Smut

To say he was touch starved was an understatement. When was the last time he slept around? When he first walked into that cafe of yours seeing you for the first time.

He’ll never admit it but he would masturbate to just imaging what you’d like beneath him

He lost his damn mind when you sent him a teaser pic of your ass glad he was quick to screenshot and made a hidden folder on his phone for it.

His praises drove you insane

Will take it easy on you the first time but after that he won’t. The first time was sweet and loving. His lips felt like they were burning your skin with each kiss he left behind trailing down your body cherishing every part of you and only leaving behind hickeys where no one else could see. The first time he learned a lot of valuable things about you and you learned some things about him too. He was glad to know you were on the pill because he would be filling you up.

Always starts off with kissing you endearingly but it turns hot and heavy

Veiny hands, veiny dick 💦

Loves to finger you, he always chuckles at the way your grab his big hand trying to yank him away when your about to cum getting overstimulated from his thumb rubbing hard circles in your clit.

Vocal in bed, huge on dirty talk.

Loves calling you princess and baby girl when dicking you down

Has a daddy kink

Breeding kink not right away but the more he fucks you the more the idea of getting you pregnant lingers in his head but he’s glad your still on the pill he still wants to just be alone with you.

His goal is make you cum as many times as possible before he gets to finish either inside of you or on your stomach

He’s a thigh guy, loves being between them and begs you to squeeze them on his head

He get pussy drunk quick losing all sight of whatever else was planned for the day or night only wanting to between your legs

Loves giving head like I said he loves your thighs so being between them this way is perfect. He loves when your cumming on his tongue that your thighs clench around him

He’s a boob guy too so expect him to be grabbing them whenever you two are alone and after he’s asked for permission. Likes sucking on your nipples and pinching them to hear you moan his name.

His anthem is a.d.i.d.a.s from Korn

You appreciate his strength because one of your now favorite positions is being hoisted up in his arms while he’s standing up and slamming your body down on massive cock

Praises in your ear about how your body is made for him

He gets hard whenever you sit on his lap and he knows you purposely shift around on top of him to make him grunt but as soon as he does you stop and act like you didn’t do anything.

Gets extremely turned on when you suck and bite on his neck “y/n you know what your doing don’t you? He says before pinning you down on the mattress.

Enjoys watching you struggle to ride him from his size at first but enjoys even more now that you’ve gotten confident doing it and taking charge not needing his help to guide your hips.

Loves pushing your face into the pillows when you get too loud, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear your moans

Teasing is his thing when your being super needy for him, going slow with everything he does till you pull his hair and tell him to go faster

His favorite sex position definitely is a mating press

Lazy sex? Having you lay on your side and him behind you hunched over whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Least favorite position… he doesn’t have one he likes to have you every way possible

He’s fucked you everywhere in your place and in his. His favorite location had to be the kitchen.

Car sex? He against doesn’t like the idea of someone seeing you like that so if your not being patient he pulls over somewhere really dark and secluded.

He thinks shower sex is great because it’s an easy clean up for both of you

You asked him to cum on your face once and he about exploded and gladly did was you asked for and snapped a pic before wiping you clean.

Toji is a moaner and grunter in bed

He implements safe words because the sex is only getting rougher with you asking him to choke you as you develop your own kinks

“F-fuck” in his voice is such a turn on

After sex he cuddles you close after you go to the bathroom to clean up. He always sleeps soundly when your naked beside him

Authors note: I know it isn’t heavy on the smut but Toji Thursday I plan on doing scenarios around these head canons and your suggestions so leave them below or use my ask box!

Want to be apart of Toji Thursday taglist comment below 💖

Masterlist | Roomate Toji |

[cerise-angel]

Smarty

+18 Keys x Reader

word count: 2,955

Keys is a pretty handsome guy. The kind of guy that makes anyone feel at ease just by staring at his hazel, puppy-like eyes. He has a pretty slope nose, cute freckles and small moles on his face and body, soft shiny hair and a perfect smile. Keys knows that he's pretty. He likes to act as if he's completely oblivious to his own charms, adding to the whole shy aloof tech guy persona. He knows the look girls and boys give to him, wanting to eat him up. He likes the attention, even though it still makes him flush at the neck and ears sometimes. He likes the way the girls giggle and offer him help when he has trouble with the printer at his job. He knows the flirty eyes and lingering touches girls give to him when he explains something to them, and how wildly they react and he swallows nervously. He knows the sultry tone of voice they use whenever he's alone with them in an elevator. He likes when they touch his cheeks, talking about how cute he looks with his glasses. Keys knows all of it.

He thinks is funny how you seem to act so untouched by his charming aura. He knows you're not imune to him, he noticed the slightly dazed look on your face whenever he talks to you. How you get fidgety, like a scared kitten, when he sits too close to you in meetings. And his favorite, how you cant keep eye contact, looking away and flushing every time. Keys thinks is cute, the way you avoid him, while also acting as if he's not affecting you at all. But then again, he knows he is.

It's friday, and as usual, the small office is nearly empty. Mouser has already left, with a promise of finishing his coding at home. Millie's desk is on your other side, leaving you between her and Keys. It's a little annoying sometimes, because they chat as if you weren't there, or worse, as if you were some kind of wall that they need to dodge to talk to each other. Other than that is nice. Millie is nice with you, and you consider yourselves to be friends. Keys is nicer, but the way you look at him makes clear you don't consider him your friend. He's in undefined territory, since you want him but don't want him to know it. He obviously has better things, or people, to do.

Millie looks at you smiling and waving, before plugging her notebook off, and leaves the place in quiet steps. She doesn't say anything to Keys, as she usually would, but then you realize its because he's focused on something, big headset on, eyes and nose scrunching in concern. You dont know for how long you stare at his face before he catches you, a mischievous glint to the smile he gives to you.

"What you doing?"

You shake your head before answering, feeling your armpits getting warmer with embarrassment. "Just, hm, Millie just left." Keys nods, taking the headset off, before turning his chair to you. He's still smiling, but is almost boyish now. He gets up walking to your desk, stopping just before his waist can touch your shoulders.

"No, what are you still doing here? Having any trouble?" You look at the slight messed up script on your computer screen. Sheepishly you nod, letting him invade the space between you and your desk. He works in silence, typing fast, the blue light of the screen reflecting in his glasses. You can seem to look away from him, inspecting his face and hair and hands and the lean muscles of his forearms, almost concealed by the rolled up sleeves of his grey shirt. It's almost too much, and you feel embarrassed by ogling him, staring quickly at the pen holder on your desk. If Keys notices it he doesn't show you. He does notices it, though. It takes him a lot of inner strength to not let a satisfied smile appear on his face. Instead, he keeps focused on the screen, catching glimpses of your face reflected in the mirror.

Suddenly Keys stops typing, and runs a hand to his hair. You look at the screen in awe. He smiles at you. "Done." You look up to him ready to thank him for helping you, but with the way he looks at you and the way he looks so handsome just standing in the dim lighting has the words caught up in your throat. You swallow, trying to find focus to speak, but he beats you.

"You're still having trouble aren't you?" You frown, not really understanding what he means. You want to ask him, opening your mouth to do so, but his hands cradle your face, he finds his way to stay between your thighs, and pulls your face gently up, to stare at his blown pupils eyes. You don't know to what exactly you're answering, but you nod your head yes, letting your lips part slowly, your breathing starting to get a little ragged. His hands are soft against your cheeks, a little bit of roughness on the tips of the fingers. Keys smile.

"Do you still need my help?" And now you get it, nodding a little too eagerly, tingling anxiety on your armpits, hands and neck. Keys chuckle at you, shaking his head a little. You feel like you're doing too much and intend to pull away, only for him to bend over and attach his lips to yours. His lips are a little chapped, tasting like coffee and melon bubble gum. He kisses you softly, letting you frustrated when he pulls away. His mouth moves to kiss your eye, your cheeks, the edge of your jaw, and your mouth again. He devours you then. The kiss is passionate, his hand running through your scalp to hold you more firmly, nested on the nape of your neck. You kiss him back urgently, letting him lick inside your mouth, sighing with want. Your hands twitch going to hold him by his shirt. Keys pull away, lingering kisses on your forehead.

"What do you want my help with?" He kisses your temple.

"With the mess between your thighs?" He kisses your nose while smiling.

"With the way you keep looking at me, like im not gonna notice those pretty eyes?" He kisses your jaw, nipping the soft skin. You gasp.

"With the way you ignore me? Hurting me?" You clutch his shirt harder, pulling him to kiss you again. He does, happy with your reaction. He kisses your mouth again, slow and lustful, earning whines from how much you want him. His hands go to your waist, for you to get up off your chair. You pull him harder, too anxious to trust your hands exploring on their own. Keys walks back until he sits down on his chair and pulls you to his lap with ease. You sit, arms tangling on his neck, before kissing him again. He dodges, and your kiss lands on his cheekbone.

"Wanna go to my place or to yours?" You think a little, too dazed by him.

"My house is 5 minutes away." He nods. "Mine is two blocks away."

You smile sheepishly, nesting yourself against his warm embrace. "Yours then." He nods too, looking at you in what seems adoration. "Atta girl."

The walk to his building is unnerving. Keys has his arm thrown lazily on your shoulders, as if this was a usual thing. Your body seems to think the same, and you hug him by the waist before you can think about it. He kisses the tip of your nose for that, a subtle new hint of adoration in his eyes. It's nice being so close to someone that you can smell their perfume, their sunscreen, the gum they're chewing, their sweat. Keys is warm, and you indulge yourself in being in his arms on a chilly evening. You could do this every day. You want to do this every day.

The building doesn't have a doorman, and Keys opens the door to you, making a silly face. He tells you his apartment is on the 8th floor, and so, you two walk to the elevator. His body is still glued to yours, hands holding hands, thighs touching thighs. The moment the elevator door closes, his lips are on yours again. It's soft, not nearly as desperate as before, but just as ardent. You pull him by his waist, locking one of legs between yours. He whines in your mouth when you touch a silver of exposed skin between his pants and t shirt. You want to hear him again. Keys slows you down, kissing you languidly and locking your hands with his. You are about to whine about it, but the elevator opens up. When he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes are a pool of molasses, warm and full of affection and yearning. He smiles while you pout at him. "Easy, tiger."

You giggle and he pulls you along the yellow lightning hallway. You feel giddy and excited, the way you felt when you had your first kiss. He looks so handsome in the dim lightning, the yellow hues only enhancing his tanned skin and caramel locks. You wanna eat him up. When he notices your not so subtle staring he laughs, giving you a quick peck on the cheeks before unlocking the door. Keys' place is quite neat, some mess of books and coffee mugs on the small table. You cant look around much, his lips are on your neck, his hands roaming between your ribcage and waist. When he touches your tits, a barely there, whisper of a touch, you gasp. He seems to like your reaction, grunting against your hair. Walking together you both reach his bedroom, where he turns you on his arms. Keys kisses you, urgently, teeth nipping lip, and suddenly you two are on the bed. You pull away, feeling too anxious now that this is actually happening.

"Keys." He's kissing your neck now, his hands under your shirt, his pelvis in synch with yours. You try again. "Keys, I wan-ah-na talk." He stops immediately, looking up to your face with blown pupils and shiny lips. You cant resist the urge to touch him, cupping his cheeks.

"I like you." He gives you a smirk, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek. "I can see that." He gestures to the way your legs are wrapped on his waist, locking him against you. You smile softly.

"No, like, I really like you. I don't want this to be a one time thing. I couldn't bear it." He sighs, and looks a little confused. He catches your hands, and kisses your knuckles. He cups your face then. "Honey, i've been trying to get to you for a long time. I want you for a long time. I wouldn't keep chasing you, if this was a one time thing."

You snort, happy he seems to feel the same as you. "You didnt chase me." He laughs ironically, ducking in to kiss your neck. "I did, you just never noticed."

Before you could keep arguing with him, and probably ruin the mood, his mouth was on yours again, a new intention behind the kiss. You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. You pull away to kiss his neck, and place his hands on tour tits. He gasps and squeezes them softly, whining when you roll your hips against his. "You're too warm. Lets take this off."

You nod eagerly helping him to pull your shirt off. His comes next, and then your jeans and his jeans. Keys kisses you again, and you remove your bra. He pulls back, sitting on his ankles to watch you almost bare before him. He licks his lips, hands going straight to your tits. He squeezes them, focused on your reactions. He kisses one nipple and then the other before fully attaching his mouth to one of them. His thumb flicks the other, and you start to get impossibly wet. Still attached to your breast, his other hand descent to tease your cunt, pressing your cotton covered clit. You moan, and Keys looks up, smiling with his mouth engulfing your breast. You're getting impatient tugging him, squirming legs while he keeps teasing you. He gives you enough to stay in the halfway between your release, but never enough. Keys adores the way you whine and begs for more.

Finally he pulls your panties down, and licks your cunt. You almost cum just from that, back arching, hands tugging his soft hair. You can feel him smile against you and that only makes you wetter. He looks at you, glasses still on.

"Take them off for me please?" You nod, shaking hands taking his glasses and placing delicately at the bedside table. He licks you again, completely focused on your cunt, licking, kissing, devouring it. Keys presses his fingers at your entrance, and you push yourself against them in a desperate attempt.

"So needy, baby." The condescending tone in his voice and the way he pushes one finger inside, then the other, has you crying, clutching tightly to his sheets. He moves them slowly, testing you. "Can you take more?"

You answer yes panting, and he kisses the skin below your belly button as a reward. He adds a third finger and slowly sets a pace, his mouth glued to your clit. He alternates between licking and kissing your cunt and biting playfully at your thighs. You want him to eat you up, and he does, allowing your pleasure to flood through your senses, leaving you with ragged breaths and shaking limbs. Keys seems satisfied when he lays his head on your stomach, his hands caressing the sides of your ribs. He smiles lazily, pure bliss in his eyes, and you smile back, reaching to pet his hair.

"Didn't know you were this skilled in girls department, Mr. Keys." He laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He climbs on top of you, his cock poking close to your cunt. You feel hot all over, and in a bold move, you grab his butt. Keys gasps and feigns a shocked expression before kissing your lips.

"Wanna be inside you." He says softly, before hiding his face between your neck and shoulder. You think is adorable, how he was just between your legs making you moan desperately, and now he seems shy about wanting to have you. You pull his face gently, kissing the tip of his nose. "Then be inside me."

He wastes no time, pushing his boxers down and hurriedly lining himself with you. You feel the air leave your lungs when he sinks in you, it's a nice burning stretch. "Jesus-f-fuck Keys!"

He whimpers and his hands grip you harder. "Sorry, sorry baby. So so sgood, feels so good." Keys starts slowly, allowing your body to get used and to feel all of him. Even though it's still burning, you need more, so you snap your hips against his. He groans, fucking you harder, meeting your hips in synch. Keys brings your legs up his shoulders, allowing him to feel you deeper, to fuck you deeper. His eyes never leave yours, and the way his face scrunch up, every time he fills you entirely, is enough to leave you a whimpering mess. He's close to his release and the soft babbling of how good you feel, how perfect is your pussy, how you look so pretty underneath him has you on the brink of your orgasm too.

Keys bends a little to reach your mouth with his own, and you lose all control, engulfing his body in a warm embrace of arms and legs and kisses. He keeps kissing you, swallowing your cries and slowing down. "Where do you want me, baby?" Everywhere. You want him under your skin, between your ribs, close to your heart. "In me, please." He grunts, rolling his hips slowly, making you mewl. "So polite, so good to me, so, so pretty, such a pretty little face, such a pretty little cunt."

You gasp, and Keys keeps fucking you slowly, steadily, focused on how you feel wrapped around him. You hold him tightly, still on your post climax haze, and he spills inside you. He collapses on top of your body, hands finding rest on your sides. His right hand fetches yours, and the lazy smile on his face when you squeeze his fingers between yours is enough to end all wars. Keys kisses your sternum, your throat, your chin and finally your lips. Is soft and languid, your legs finally resting on the mattress instead of locking his body closer to yours. He smiles between kissing, his hand now caressing your cheeks. "I quite like you, you know." You smile, so happy it almost hurt your cheeks. "I quite like you too." Keys rolls to the side, pulling you to lay beside him. A small blanket is throw over you but you're too focused on Keys' warmth and soft pine smell to notice. He kisses your mouth, nipping softly on the flesh before hugging you closely and dozing off to sleep.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Part 2)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Kate: Aaah. No…I can’t anymore, Instructor…Roger.

Roger: Keep going…your body can still handle it right?

Kate: Ah… No, not anymore…

Roger: When you think you can’t take it anymore, that’s when it actually starts. Same thing in bed. Come on, 10 more sit ups.

Kate: Why are you talking about doing things in bed? You’re absolutely the worst!

Instructor Oliver: Oh, is something the matter?

Roger: No, Miss Kate wants me to be stricter.

(......Excuse me?)

Roger: 10 more sit ups. Muscle, muscle!

Kate: Muscle…muscle…Ugh…

(It’s no use, if I do a bad job, I’ll look suspicious)

Roger put his lips to my ear as I desperately tried to do sit ups…

Roger: Maybe the ‘S’ in S class mission stands for ‘sadist’?

Kate: …Eh?

Roger: Hey, you stopped. Come on, muscle, muscle!

(D-damn it!)

--

Kate: Haaa…haaa… So…did you find anything?

Roger: Nah, haven’t “heard” anything suspicious yet. I’ll keep an ear out ‘til I get a lead.

Instructor Oliver: Roger, a moment!

Roger: Yeah, I’m coming over.

Roger: Keep digging. Stay on guard, Kate.

With a nod, Roger went to where Instructor Oliver called him.

(I’m thirsty. I’ll get  a glass of water)

Kate:Huh, where’s the drinking fountain…?

Blonde lady: Excuse me, I can show you where it is.

I turned toward the voice and saw a dignified lady smiling at me.

After being shown where the fountain was, the rigorous training continued— 

--

I snuck outside.

(No one will come out here, right? I’ll just take a short break and then head back in)

Maybe it was because I’m not used to doing hard exercises, but my knees were about to give out.

???: Who’s this student skipping class?

Kate: Eek! I’m sorry! I won’t slack off anymore!

Roger: Haha. Dummy, it’s me.

Kate: Roger… Geez, don’t scare me like that!

Roger: Sorry, sorry. I’ll give you something nice as an apology, so open your mouth. Say ‘aah’.

Kate: Huh, mmm. It’s sweet… Is it chocolate?

Roger: You look like a sad puppy.

(You were strict with me, and now you’re spoiling me…)

Perhaps Roger often tames using a carrot and stick.

That’s really, really annoying…

Kate: Oh yeah, I made a friend just then. Her name’s Emilia Winslow. She told me that her dream’s to go into politics.

Roger: That’s an insane dream when you know women don’t have the right to vote.

Kate: Yeah…She mentioned that. She wanted to get out of her current situation, but didn’t know how. So she came to the club in desperation. She thought that if she got stronger, she’d be able to change her absurd situation.

Roger: The women who gathered here all want to get stronger and fight.

As his amber eyes looked up to the sky, a question I wanted to ask suddenly popped in my mind.

Kate: Roger, have you ever wanted to get stronger?

Roger: I have. It’s not like I’ve been like this since I was born. When I was a kid, I had my first friend. He was cursed. But because I was weak, I betrayed him in the worst way. I couldn’t protect him.

(This is the first time I’ve heard something about Roger’s past…)

It felt like his eyes, still focused on the sky, wavered for a moment.

Roger: Maybe I’ve always been fighting something?

Seeing that smile on his face, as if he were trying to laugh away the pain, reminded me of what Roger told me that time I fired a gun at someone for the first time.

(At the time, I hated myself for being weak…What Roger said…)

“People who want to get stronger and are able to continue on are really the strong ones.”

When I first met Roger, I thought he was “just a strong guy”.

However, now I can clearly see that he’s someone that “tries to be strong”.

—Suddenly, Roger’s eyes became sharp.

Roger: …

Kate: …Roger?

Roger: Oy…who’s there? I can hear your heartbeat.

Instructor Oliver: …

(What do we do…? If he finds out that Roger and I know each other…)

Instructor Oliver: I’m sorry for eavesdropping… Will you please hear me out?

Somehow Oliver had a feeling that we were different from those that visited the Beauty Muscle Club. 

So he followed us—to ask for help.

Instructor Oliver: In the beginning, I was just an instructor working at the club. But then I uncovered something unthinkable about this place… The owner of the club and master of the estate belongs to the House of Lords. He has an extremely distorted view on women’s empowerment.

Roger: Does this have anything to do with the fact that women who visit here end up ill?

Instructor Oliver: How did you…Just who are you people?

Roger: That doesn’t matter now. Are the women here getting drugged?

Instructor Oliver: Illegal drugs disguised as muscle-enhancement drugs.

Kate: Why…that’s so ridiculous.

Roger: It’s to stop brilliant and strong women from entering the workforce, isn’t it? So stupid. Even though they were tricked into it, they took the enhancement drug. And now the women are afraid to speak out in fear of being accused of taking illegal substances. And so the truth doesn’t come out.

Kate: …Such a cowardly way of operating.

Instructor Oliver: I don’t want to do this. But they threatened to kill me if I ran away.

He looked like a little kid with how he weakly hung his head, face pale.

(We can’t overlook this evil)

Kate: …Roger, I have a request. I—

Roger: Don’t do anything reckless that’ll put yourself in danger, okay?

Kate: Okay!

—Then, Oliver and I went to where the illegal drugs were being sold.

--

The person who welcomed us was a man from the House of Lords, the wonder of the club and estate.

After Oliver introduced me, the man handed me a small bag of medicine with a friendly look on his face. 

(...I got the evidence. All I need to do now is leave)

(But…)

Master of the estate: This will make you stronger and more beautiful. Let us build a better society.

The way he so easily lied filled me with rage.

Kate: …These are illegal drugs.

Instructor Oliver: ?!

As if he caught on, the master of the estate’s eyes turned terribly cold.

And he smiled cooly.

Master of the estate: Britain thriving, but with that, comes women getting louder… Give them the right to vote, give them places to work. Women are inferior creatures to men who are just clever enough to serve.

Kate: So, why would you do such a despicable and foolish thing?

Master of the estate: If I don’t pluck the useless weeds, then who will?

Kate: There are a lot of women trying to get stronger, you know?

Master of the estate: And for what reason, when it’s all in vain? 

(Oh my god…)

I slapped the man before me as hard as I could.

Master of the estate: …You’re a woman! I can have you killed for this you know!

Kate: …

Before I could get the gun from my garter belt, a gunshot rang out and a bullet grazed the man’s cheek.

The window behind the man broke and Roger, with his hunting rifle, bursts into the room.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.

*House of Lords is the upper chamber of UK Parliament.

[ohbo-ohno]

Oh and another thought on Johnny training his puppy-

You know how dogs have that one person they latch onto and get protective over if something happens to them or someone threatens them?

Simon is obviously Johnny's person and while Johnny knows Simon can take care of himself, he still can't help that protectiveness in him.

So maybe one day their little puppy tries to snap at Simon. Or maybe she even manages to hit him during a punishment.

And Simon, in his daze at their little puppy's audacity to even do that, doesn't get a chance to react because good boy Johnny immediately reacts to snarl at her. He stands protectively in front of Simon, baring his teeth at her and growling that no one lays a finger on his person, not even his beloved puppy.

So with a quick glance back at Simon to see if he's okay (obviously he is) and asking him if he can punish the pup instead, Simon let's Johnny take care of their naughty little puppy, showing her that if she wants to act like a big bad dog, then she can play with one too.

By the end of the lesson, Johnny gets endless praises for being a good boy and the naughty puppy spends the night in the kennel, whimpering at how sore and achy she feels.

- 🥍

i don't even know what to DO with this one. it's like you've sent me solid gold and asked me for an opinion. bitch it's solid gold!!!!

imagining that simon is hauling you her off for a punishment and she gets a lucky hit on his nose, something that takes him completely by surprise and has him flinching back instinctively. it doesn't actually hurt that bad but a full-strength punch to the nose will have anyone at least a little disorientated

and johnny just loses his fucking mind. no one gets to hurt ghost. that's not how this works. ghost is strong and incredibly capable of taking care of himself but when he isn't, johnny protects him. he's not allowed to get hurt - do you have any idea how fucked johnny would be without ghost??? no, it's not an option to let ghost get hurt

so it's mostly an instinctual thing that has him pinning you to the floor by your throat. he's the only one who really knows what's going on, you haven't even really realized you managed to hit ghost, and ghost is blinking spots out of his vision

you've never seen johnny so animalistic, seen him so angry. he's probably past the point of words, you hardly even realize why he's angry when he's got you in a grip so tight you can hardly breathe

he'd hardly remember to ask for permission to punish you - doesn't even really ask tbh. he'd tear his eyes from yours to look up at ghost, and ghost would give him a nod and say smth like "go ahead, johnny. teach her her place again."

anyways he fucks you very rough with like no prep :/ horribly uncomfortable and painful for you, but your screams don't stop him. he'd bite nearly through your skin along your neck and back, leave you mottled with painful bruises. your knees and elbows would be bruised, a layer of skin scraped off from how much they rub against the floors when he thrusts.

he'd fuck your ass too. barely give you any stretch, just jacks himself to full hardness, slips you maybe two fingers?, and uses the lube from your cunt to fuck you. takes him longer to come the second time, and he doesn't get you off at all :/

makes you crawl to the bedroom & crate on your own. johnny is right there on all fours beside you, pushing and biting you whenever you stop crawling, keeps shoving you where you need to be. he's mean about it, snarling and growling right in your face, leaving bites down your arms and legs

simon locks you in your cage, doesn't even bother looking at you as he goes to give his puppy a reward. leaves you there all night, listening to how nice he is to johnny, how good johnny gets to feel after behaving so well

(they'll give her a nice warm bath in the morning to ease her muscles a bit)

[kosije]

hi there! if it is possible could you do a piece where the reader (fem) and iwa/akaashi go to a park to walk the reader's dog, where two kids approach the reader while they are sitting on a bench and ask her to play with them. iwa/akaashi has been planning to propose to the reader for a while and on the way back he asks them their opinion on children and the reader replies with something that convinces them that they are the one.

thank you in advance!

ㅤ( ㅤ҉ 🌳 ) puppy love

a/n ★ ׂ first post of 2024! thank you so much anon :) this was fun to write. i tried to see who i wanted to write for more, but i couldn’t! so today i present you a two course meal (^з^) scroll down to read akaashi’s part, but yk i had to put my fav first _(:3 」∠)_

— main masterlist | haikyuu masterlist

c/w ★ ׂ akaashi x fem!reader / iwaizumi x fem,reader, reader has a dog, reader is a physical therapist, reader likes kids, mentions of marriage/proposal, fluff, akaashi’s part does have a make out session (but i did try to make it tasteful)

🌱 choose your character!

player 1 — iwaizumi

you're painted in a golden glow. a star walking beside him as you talk about everything that had happened at work. today was a good day, you say. your patient has had a breakthrough and can now walk without support. her muscle movement is almost fluid and her mood has brightened up tremendously ever since.

your dog seems just as happy as you are. it practically prancing between you and Iwaizumi.

"how was work today? you got off pretty early," you coo, nudging him with your shoulder.

"oh, yeah—" he coughs, suddenly interested in the strap of the bag full of your snacks and dog stuff. "yeah, one of my clients was a no-show so i just closed my availability after i finished."

his stomach does flips, he hates lying. he hates keeping secrets from you, but he can't tell you he's been out looking for engagement rings all day. he hasn't even stepped foot in his gym; he has been planning with his clients to skip today all month.

in reality, while you have been at the hospital, he has been around every jeweler in the area, trying to find the perfect ring for you. he knows what you like. he knows your ring size, your favorite stone, and your favorite metal.

but none of them seemed like the one.

he had come across this hole-in-the-wall shop on his way back. not the cleanest, but not sketchy, but he had no time to look. he had just bookmarked it and drove home.

"that's nice. i'm happy we could do this, we rarely go out on weekdays."

"yeah? been missing me hunny?" he pouts, eyes closed, making mwah noises to you.

you scoff, but mush his face between your hands and plant a big kiss on his lips and he can taste fruit on your lips.

"so so sososososososo much, haji." and you kiss him again on the cheek, then the other, then one last peck on his lips, and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face.

you two walk for a little longer this time with his thump under the waistband of your pants until you reach the benches by the climbing frame.

"wanna rest up?"

you nod to him and plop down together, sighing. you tie the leash to the bench arm, and iwa digs through the bag for the dog bowl and water.

you two cuddle up together. your hands play with the fabric of his shorts, and his arm is stroking your side as you watch children play, people work out with their dogs, and birds fly from tree to tree.

it's peaceful. and it's natural. and he's nervous.

a couple of laughs break him out of his trance, and when he's focused again he sees two kids, a boy and a girl, nervously asking you to play with them.

"we wanna play hide and go seek, but we both wanna hide. and- and- and- my grandma said that we should ask someone to seek for us s-so we don't argue," the girl says, twisting her foot into the dirt as her brother silently plays with your dog.

"yeah?" you look to iwaizumi, and he nods, not in any objection. "where should i count?

ㅤ ㅤ҉ 🌳

you play with the kids for about fifteen minutes. running around — tag, hide and go seek, fetch with your dog, and racing with them. he watches you from the bench, laughing with the kids, and something of a flame ignites within him. his heart squeezes and his face warms more and more just at the sight of you. you're so carefree and happy. the kids are giggling and smiling ear to ear as you pretend to run as fast as you can, only to get tagged back and go back to chasing them. your dog is sitting between his legs as he adds ice cubes to his bowl for him to chew on, and he thinks he's never been happier.

it feels as natural as breathing, seeing you with the kids, and he doesn't even try to stop himself or the drumming of butterflies in his chest, daydreaming of you two at the park with kids of your own. you running around with them and playing. him setting the table for you all. him reading them bedtime stories as you kiss their foreheads and tuck them in, leading him back to your guy's room, hand in hand, with a pretty rock on your ring finger.

he watches as the kids light up at the sight of the older woman walking toward you and smiling brightly. it's no trouble, i had fun, he hears you say. she thanks you again and the kids wave bye to you and him before you walk back to the bench. your face is a little flushed and your baby hairs are sticking to your forehead messily.

"tired?"

"not..really..." you huff with your hands on your hips and head facing the sky.

"i can see why their grandma needed a break. It took you 15 minutes to get sweaty," he laughs, a large hand rubbing your hip.

"good thing when that happens with ours, i'll have you with me," you laugh, plopping down on the bench next to him. he's silent for a little while, can tell that you've noticed it when you turn your head to him.

"baby, you're all flushed." you touch his face to examine it, and he grabs it, bringing your palm to his lip.

"it is a good thing that we'll have each other, isn't it," he mumbles, and there's a boyish smile glued to his face.

you give him a funny look and kiss him softly, and he remembers to check that hole-in-the-wall spot tomorrow

"2 kids max though."

"there are only two of us," he agrees.

player 2 — akaashi

he likes how you look when it's cold. likes how you look bundled up and cozy, how you always rub up against his side. you're always so warm, it feels too good, you always say. how could he ever complain though? he may not say much, but he loves it when you're holding him, touching him somewhere innocuous, like you have to have some sort of physical connection with him at all times. call him clingy, but he'll just tell you he's in love.

your dog seems just as calm as you are, walking close between you and Akaashi.

"how was it with your client today?" you ask, playing with the hem of his cuff.

"unremarkable, feels as if it never even happened," he says and mentally slaps himself for being so literal. you're none the wiser to his lie. or the fact he's been looking for engagement rings all day. how many flower shops he's passed looking for your favorites. how many venues he's bookmarked. so instead, he's asking you how it went with your patient.

"pretty good," you say, smiling into your scarf. it belongs to him, but he the way it looks on you more. "making some real breakthroughs. she'll be running in no time."

"that's good, 'm proud of you both. this means you'll be spending more time at home?"

"just a little. she asks if we do more intensive workouts now—push her to her limits. feels like the home stretch, though."

"can't wait till the discharge, we should celebrate over dinner."

"my favorite?"

he laughs at the way your puppy dog eyes peer up at him. "of course."

and you do a little happy dance, bend down to tell your dog the great, and he's happy. his heart is hung heavy in his chest for you, but it feels as light as a cloud. and despite the sting in his cheeks, he can't stop smiling.

you guys reach a bench by a pond and sit together. you let your dog play in the grass in front of you two as he pulls a book from his satchel and wipes his glasses before putting them back on his face.

"will you read to me?"

and of course, he says yes, because it makes him so happy to entertain you. you compliment his voice, tell him it makes you calm whenever he speaks, tell him it makes reading feel more intimate, hypnotizing almost. god, if only you knew half the things you do to him.

"excuse me," he stops for a second, and you both turn to see a little boy and girl standing in front of you.

he tells them hello, and the boy asks him to read to them too.

"our- we like books a lot. and we can be very quiet," he whispers that last part. "my grandma says it's okay, she's right- right there." he follows the kid's finger to an older woman, quietly sitting by another bench close by, glancing between the kids and the two of you.

he points to himself, and the two kids with a tilt of his head and she nods, hands settling into her lap.

"can i pet your dog?" the girl asks, and you gush.

"of course, sweetheart!"

"can i sit next to you?" the boy asks him, and he nods, holding the book out away from his body, picking the boy with his free hand and letting him settle against the side of his body and reads.

ㅤ ㅤ҉ 🌳

he gets about a chapter deep before the kids fall asleep. the little girl had been settled in your arms just a moment after the boy had asked, as he read.

"your voice is like a lullaby," you muse, nudging his foot with your own.

"or maybe this book is just that boring."

"note even," you whisper through a smile. "you're just a natural."

the kids stir awake moments later, now with their grandma by their sides. she thanks the two of you, tells you how time is catching up with her and she can't do as much for them as she used to.

"it's no problem, ma'am. i can tell that you do so much already."

she thanks you again, cupping your hands as the two kids position themselves next to her, grabbing onto her skirt.

"and might i add, it is so nice seeing a couple so good with kids. tell me, do you have some of your own?"

"no," you laugh, placing your head on his shoulder. "not yet."

and when you wink at the woman, she laughs, putting her fingers up to her lips. "not for long either, i can tell."

and you both giggle at one another as he sits there flushed. not yet. it repeats in his head even as he trails you back to your car. his face is burning. he's not so immature as to be flustered by the thought have having a child with you. but he can't stop the feeling he gets when you say things like that.

not yet.

"earth to keji?"

he jumps slightly, hand sweeping up to cover his mouth.

you look worried. your lips are in a pretty pout and your hand is on his chest. "what's wrong?"

he says nothing, doesn't dare to use his words, and so he kisses you. and it's somewhat feverish and terribly lovesick. his hands are warm on your face, and his glasses are fogging up, but he doesn't care. he is fighting for air in between your moans and he'd be perfectly content with passing out as long as your lips are on his. as long as you are his.

eventually, you guys have to pull back. your lips are plumper and he's sure his area deep shade of pink.

and keji doesn't care about the venue, or date, or anything else, because as long as he can tell you "i do," he knows he'll be the luckiest man on earth.

"i have a different idea as a celebration for when your time with your patient has concluded," he says.

you pout. "so no dinner?" so damn cute.

he kisses your lips one last time before starting the car.

"you'll still get that dinner, hun."

© all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to me, kosije. please refrain from plagerizing, reposting, or translating my works. i do not allow adaptation in any way without my permission!

[pathetic-sapphic]

hello! i was wonder if you could do fluffy headcannons for vi and caitlyn? thanks in advance and have fun writing this : D

Fluffly Vi and Caitlyn HC's

VI

Vi is actually quite a bookworm! Growing up in the Lanes makes it hard to learn how to read and it wasn't until Vander found her trying to make sense of a novel left behind by a patron at the Last Drop that she started learning. Vander taught her himself, after the rest of her adoptive siblings went to bed, Vi would stay up and have Vander teach her how to read next to the soft glow of candle light. Those are some of her favorite memories with him.

She is a dog person through and through. Will beg for the two of you to adopt a dog once you've been living together for a while and you always seemed unsure. Little did she know, you were actually planning to surprise her with a puppy for her birthday! And when you finally do, oh, she cries so much! There are tears of happiness sliding down her freckled cheeks as she holds the tiny golden retriever puppy in her hands. Your apartment is alive with the sounds of her sobs and the puppy's attempts at barking, your heart clenches with joy at the scene. Vi will forever be grateful to you for such a thoughtful and amazing gift. She knows she can never repay you but she's willing to try through kisses and hugs.

Hates going clothes shopping unless you're the one doing it. If so, she's at your service. She'll carry your bags, point out clothes that she thinks you'll look nice in and compliment you when you try them on. When she's the one buying clothes, she likes for it to be done as quickly as possible. Though she can't say she minds the appreciative looks you give her when she tries on some particularly tight clothes or ones that show off her muscles.

Loves silly pet names. Cutie, honey bee, hot stuff, etc. But most of the time she likes to stick with good ol' 'babe'. Her heart almost jumps out of her chest the first time you call her 'darling'. There's just something about the way that word rolls off of your tongue that makes her stomach erupt with butterflies. First names are only uttered in serious situations.

Her giving love language is physical touch, receiving is words of affirmation. Vi loves being close to you, hugging, kissing and touching you whenever she can. She craves reassurance and affirmation due to her past. Needs to know she's good to you and that you feel loved and protected by her side.

Her favorite season is autumn! It's chilly but not too cold, but at the same time cold enough for her to cozy up inside and enjoy the rainy scenery unfolding outside your shared place. Even better if the two of you cuddle under a blanket and doze off in each other's arms. Violet swears she never slept better.

As much as she adores being the big spoon, she has a secret fondness for being the small spoon too. Especially after a nightmare, Vi needs to be held and feel protected. Her life has been one of hardship and being in your embrace reminds her that that period of her life is over. Now there is only your warmth and smile which protect her from all harm and sadness life brings.

CAITLYN

Has no bias when it comes to dogs or cats, but since she grew up with dogs, she isn't opposed to adopting a cat with you this time around. She had planned to find a more exotic and fancy cat breed but that went out the window one night as she was coming back from work. Coming back to you. It was a rainy night and it was already quite late as she stayed longer in her office than she should've so she was hurrying along. Despite the heavy sounds of rain and her footsteps echoing off the pavement, her ears managed to pick up a tiny, desperate sound. Cautiously following it to a dark alley, she was surprised when she stumbled upon a dirty kitten that was meowing its little heart out. Caitlyn couldn't bear to just leave it so she took it home to you. Your kind soul immediately saw the kitten as a new addition to your little family and it made Caitlyn so happy. The sweet but feisty calico kitten would quickly become an integral part of your everyday lives and the two of you wouldn't have it any other way!

Opposite of Vi when it comes to shopping, Caitlyn loves indulging herself with new fits and it's even better if she gets to do the same for you! Be prepared to never have to use your wallet ever again because your girlfriend has you covered. Loves to spoil you with whatever you desire and buys you stuff weekly, even if you don't ask for it. Whenever she buys you new clothes, Caitlyn likes to make a little show out of it! She'll twirl you around and give advice on how to pair different articles of clothing. However, she understands if it may be a bit too much at first so she'll start off with small and inexpensive but sentimental gifts. Anything to make you happy.

Caitlyn secretly collects antique porcelain figurines. She remembers her mother always having some on display when she was a child but never let her go near them in fear that she'd break them on accident. But she was always so amazed by their graceful yet still forms and the details which adorned their smooth surface. So, when she got older, she started buying them out of pure self-indulgence. When the two of you start dating, she's actually a bit scared that you'll find her obsession silly but, as always, you pleasantly surprise her with a look of awe and compliments on how pretty they are. When a couple of days later you show up with a gift for her, she is so happy! That happiness grows too big for her heart to contain when the gift turns out to be two custom-made porcelain figures with a striking resemblance to the two of you. You may not know it, but this definitely helped heal her inner child.

Besides practicing shooting, Caitlyn also loves fencing! It lets her release tension and stress which piles up from work and it keeps her agile. Puffs out her chest with pride if she ever spots you watching her during practice. Tries extra hard to impress you but at the same time gets really clumsy because she's constantly checking if your eyes are on her and only her. You catch on quickly and find it very endearing.

Soft and sweet pastries are her weakness. Goes to her favorite bakery to pick up her breakfast every morning before work. Once she's with you, she drops by in the afternoon too, during her break, so she can get you your favorite and give it to you when she gets home. At the end of a long day, there is nothing Caitlyn yearns for more than the sweet taste of a flaky pastry and your soft lips.