#but slowly. and im trying to lean into doing the kind of things i did with her like training and confidence building and bonding

[cameronsbabydoll]

hiiii q(≧▽≦q) i rlly love ur entire blog esp ur bunny readers (i eat them up so goodddd hehe) tysm for your service (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

i was thinking abt like. Graves being somewhere international for deployment or a holiday or something and getting a bit homesick out of nowhere so he goes to a western-themed bar nearby, where the reader currently is!! she's just having a night out and she's sort of drunk and there's a mechanical bull in the bar for any patrons to have a try at and she tries it and fails miserably with only 15 out of 120 seconds on the bull bc she's drunk and isn't thinking properly (can u tell im speaking from experience 〒▽〒). Graves finds it soooo funny that this sweet little local girl in her daisy dukes and little button up shirt that almost makes her look like one of the girls from back home is looking so huffy at not being able to keep herself upright on a bucking bull. so he decides to (for some reason, maybe he missed home? maybe he wanted to see her face when he went on?) have a go at it, and succeeds incredibly, garnering a standing ovation from the patrons. he stays the whole 2 minutes on the bucking bull without once breaking a sweat, while the reader watches with stars in her eyes right at the edge of the small, air-cushioned "arena". Graves is obvi proud, of course, but he's got that sort of quiet Southern smugness when he walks off that just enchants reader. maybe it's the alcohol talking, or she's just stupid (she doesn't know (ˉ ▽ ˉ;)...), but she approaches him and asks if he could give some pointers to her on how the hell she can stay on the bucking bull for as long as he did. and he tells her!! he uses his hands to gesture and slips in all these Southern pet names with his saccharine-sweet drawl like "darlin'" "baby" "sweetheart" "doll/dollface (take ur pick hehe)", etc. and reader can't tell if she's meant to pay attention his words or his face because he's just so handsome and talking so slowly like he wants to make sure she understands!! and when he's done she nods frantically and gets back in line to do it again, and when she does it, she doesn't get the whole two minutes but she still gets a whole minute and a half!! more than triple of what she got last time!! she's so proud and bounds up to Graves with this excited and proud smile on her face, giggling like she won the lottery and Graves decides to buy her a drink or two to celebrate her silly little achievement.

i don't know where it could go it could be like sfw or nsfw but like idk

- 🦴

he didn’t expect to be this homesick.

he’s seen enough deserts and dirt roads in the past few months to make a map of every no-name town on the planet.

but nothing had scratched the itch like this bar’s neon sign:

“longhorn saloon — cowboy night every friday”

when he steps inside — boots thunking against the dusty wooden floor, Stetson tipped just a touch lower over his brow — he doesn’t expect to find you.

you, in little denim cutoffs and a white button-up tied above your belly button.

you, wobbling near the bar with a bright red cocktail in hand and a group of girlfriends egging you on.

you, who immediately slurs, “alright, i’m doin’ it!” before trotting barefoot toward the mechanical bull like it’s some kind of great spiritual mission.

graves sips his beer.

leans back.

watches.

fifteen seconds later you’re face-down on the air mat, huffing and whining like it betrayed you personally.

he bites back a laugh. doesn’t succeed.

you’re so pissed off at a literal robot cow, and he thinks you might be the cutest damn thing he’s seen in months.

you stomp your foot. point at it.

“it’s rigged! it knows!”

he’s smirking before he even knows he’s gonna get up.

hell, maybe it’s the bourbon. maybe it’s the nostalgia. maybe it’s your little pout.

he tosses his hat to the bartender and pulls himself up onto the bull with the ease of a man born into boots.

people cheer.

you stand there, sipping your drink with wide, glittering eyes.

and two minutes later—he hasn’t budged.

just riding smooth, easy, hand raised, hips swaying like it’s second nature.

he could go another minute, you’re sure of it.

when he finally hops down, brushing dust off his jeans, you’re already at the edge of the mat blinking up at him.

“how the hell’d you do that?”

he looks down. smiles slow.

his voice hits you like brown sugar and honey bourbon.

“you wanna learn, sweetheart?”

you nod.

“’course you do.”

“c’mere, darlin’. lemme show you.”

he starts gesturing, real slow.

explains where to grip, how to shift your weight. uses his hands to guide your posture, not quite touching you, just hovering. but you feel every ghost of it.

every time he leans in, it’s all hot breath and drawl and big hands and the occasional:

“now, keep them little hips steady—easy, baby, like that. good girl.”

“don’t grip with your thighs too tight or you’ll just pop yourself off, doll.”

“balance it like you’re dancin’... real slow. like you’re lettin’ a man lead.”

you’re not even listening at some point.

you’re too busy watching his lips. his jaw. the way he smells like cedar and something smoky and expensive. the faint smirk when he realizes how hard you’re trying to keep your eyes on his hands.

“you get all that, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.

“yes, sir,” you say, way too fast.

he chuckles, low.

you bounce back in line like you’re in the damn rodeo finals.

and when you hit that ninety-second mark, the crowd goes wild.

you’re breathless. grinning so big your cheeks hurt. bounding right back into graves’ space like he’s your cowboy guardian angel.

“i did it!! you saw that, right?”

he smiles at you—real warm.

“saw every second of it, sugar.”

“i almost hit two minutes!!”

“mm, almost,” he teases, brushing a knuckle under your chin.

“but i think that’s worth a drink or two, don’t you?”

you nod. dazed. flushed.

“yeah. yeah, i do.”

and when he buys you one?

he doesn’t even ask your name yet.

he just tips his glass and says:

“to my little cowgirl.”

[rip2mycarradio]

i need a new harry oneshot

FROM THE DINING TABLE

anything for you cutie!!!! i know guys i know it’s been so long im SORRY. no warnings just makeout!!!!!

༺☆༻

harry styles was never good with dates. well, at least not the kind where you had to dress up fancy and talk about your feelings while sitting across a polished table with silverware you weren’t sure how to use properly. he was more the jeans-and-a-tee, casual-cuddle-on-the-sofa kind of guy. but tonight was different. tonight, he wanted to do something special for you—a date that felt like the movies, even if he was nervous as hell underneath that charming smile.

you met him outside the restaurant, the kind of place that smelled like expensive wine and polished wood, where the chandeliers hung like little galaxies above every table. harry looked almost out of place in a crisp, dark blazer and a white shirt, the top buttons undone just enough to keep his trademark mess of curls from feeling restrained.

“you look like you stepped out of a magazine,” you teased, smiling as he opened the door for you with a little bow.

“well, i was gonna say you look like an angel,” he shot back, eyes twinkling, “but maybe that’s a bit too cheesy.”

“nah,” you said, sliding into the booth opposite him, “i’m all about the cheesy.”

the waiter arrived almost immediately, and harry squinted at the menu like it was written in a different language. “do you speak ‘fancy restaurant’?” he asked quietly.

“i’m fluent in ‘eat all the things,’” you replied with a grin.

he laughed, the sound deep and easy, and suddenly the nervousness didn’t feel so bad anymore. you ordered dishes neither of you had tried before, and by the time the food arrived, the ice was well and truly broken.

“so, what’s the deal with you and that little green thing on the plate?” harry asked, poking at a sprig of herb with his fork.

“that,” you said, “is called a microgreen. it’s supposed to be fancy, but honestly, it tastes like grass.”

harry smirked. “sounds like something i’d accidentally eat.”

“you’d probably put ketchup on it,” you teased.

“maybe,” he admitted with a grin, “but only if you do it first.”

as the night went on, the conversation bounced effortlessly between silly jokes and quiet moments where you just looked at each other, both trying not to blush. harry reached across the table to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you know,” he said softly, “i’m really glad we did this. even if i’m terrible at ordering.”

“you’re good at other things,” you whispered, eyes locked on his.

he leaned in slowly, and your breath hitched as his lips brushed yours—soft and warm, tasting faintly of the wine he’d been drinking. the kiss deepened, and your heart thudded loudly enough that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.

when the bill came, harry insisted on paying, sliding his card across the table with a grin. “i owe you after all the microgreen jokes.”

“don’t spend it all in one place,” you said, giggling.

outside, the cool night air was a shock after the warmth inside. harry took your hand, fingers weaving between yours, and led you to his car.

“so,” he said, voice low and teasing as he slid behind the wheel, “how do you feel about a kiss in the rain? totally cliché, but i think it’s kinda perfect for tonight.”

you barely had time to answer before he was pulling you close, lips capturing yours in a messy, desperate kiss that tasted like promise and late-night secrets.

his hands were warm and sure, one sliding to your waist as the other tangled in your hair. you clung to him, your body pressed flush against his, the world narrowing down to just the two of you and the soft patter of rain around the car.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and laughing, harry smiled—eyes sparkling like he’d just won something far better than any fancy dinner.

“maybe i’m better at dates than i thought,” he said, and you kissed him again, knowing this was just the beginning.

the rain drummed softly against the windshield, a steady rhythm that matched the way your heart was pounding. harry’s hands never left your waist, fingers pressing gently but possessively, pulling you closer. his lips moved over yours with a tenderness that made your knees go weak, but there was a fire beneath it too — like he was savoring every second, every taste.

you tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging lightly, and he groaned into the kiss, the sound deep and low, vibrating through you. his tongue traced slow circles against your bottom lip, asking for permission, and you gave it without hesitation — parting your lips and letting him in.

his tongue was warm and soft, exploring with a mix of hesitance and hunger, and you matched him, mirroring every flick and swirl like you’d done this a thousand times before, even if it was only the second date. his hands slid from your waist down to the small of your back, gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. you leaned into the pressure, feeling the heat rising between you.

harry’s breath was ragged when you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air in the cramped car. his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled — that goofy, crooked smile that made your heart melt every single time.

“you’re incredible,” he whispered, voice husky.

you bit your lip, tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

the tension lingered, thick and delicious, but neither of you were in any rush to stop. harry’s hand slid up, fingers brushing over your cheek before threading through your hair again.

“we should probably get out of the car sometime,” he joked breathlessly.

“i’m good right here,” you said with a grin, pressing another kiss to his lips.

[coloursofaparadox]

mm

[wosospacegirl]

My girl always gets so cranky - leah williamson

Summary: Y/n’s PMS is ruining her night out with Leah, but when things explode over messy eyeliner, Leah’s love and patience bring her back down.

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: just a little fluff fic because im o period, also, say reservation one more time.

..

Y/n tried to be a good person, a good friend, a good colleague and a good girlfriend. She always tried her hardest to be kind, patient and overall a nice person, but there was a specific time in the month that, somehow, turned her into a whole other person.

Y/n had begged Leah to take her out on a date a few days ago, saying she missed trying new foods with her. So Leah, as an amazing girlfriend, did just that.

She reserved a table at a new Arab restaurant in North London and was excited to go out with her girl, but Y/n was having a really hard time getting ready.

“Love, c’mon,” Lead said as she leaned in the archway of the door, watching Y/n doing her makeup in front of the mirror. “We need to go like–” she looked at her watch, “–now.”

Y/n sat at her vanity, gripping the eyeliner as if it had personally wronged her. She knew she was being irrational — knew she was too tired, too stressed, too overwhelmed — but that didn’t stop the frustration from simmering beneath her skin. The shaky lines on her eyelids felt like a metaphor for her entire week: messy, uneven, and impossible to fix.

Y/n had been trying to do cat eyes for the last 25 minutes, but none of her attempts were good enough.

Each line was messier than the last, and every time she wiped it away, it seemed to get worse. Her breathing hitched as she tried to steady her hand and try to do the eyeliner again, but the tension building in her body made it another failed attempt.

She was getting frustrated already, and having Leah breathing down her neck didn’t help with the situation.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. “I’m almost done, Leah,” she called out, trying to keep her voice steady, though it came out more strained than she intended. “Just give me five more minutes.”

But Leah wasn’t having it. She appeared at the door, arms crossed. “You said that ten minutes ago, babe– I just don’t want to lose the reservation.”

“Well, we will lose the reservation if you don’t step away for a minute and actually let me do my makeup,” Y/n grumbled.

“Oh no! I actually don’t,” Y/n gave Leah the most faux-dumbfounded face. “Can you please explain it to me, Leah?”

Leah crossed her arms. “You do know how a reservation works, right?”

After she finished her sentence her face was back into her grumpy expression.

“Don’t give me attitude,” Leah said angrily, but slowly breathed in and out, calming down. “You know what? If you don’t wanna go, just say so.

“I wanna go! I already said I’m almost done, I just need to get this cat eye right–”

“You look great…I promise. It’s just makeup, Y/n.” The reservation is more important, don’t you think?” Leah said, her voice sharper now.

Normally Leah was very unperturbed by Y/n and her not-so-nice attitude. Mainly because generally, Y/n was very kind and loving, but Leah knew the girl had her moments, especially after a long and stressful day.

“I care about how I look, Leah” Y/n bit back, putting her make-up down again. “I just want to look nice for once–but this stupid eyeliner won’t cooperate.

Was Y/n being spoiled and kind of a brat? Yes. Did Y/n care about it right now? No.

She just wanted to look pretty once. Her whole week had been stressful, she felt ugly and bloated and…she just felt like shit, really– and now Y/n couldn't even have a little time for herself without Leah being annoying. 

She had an argument with her sister two days ago,  it was followed by a disastrous meeting at work where no one seemed to know what they were doing. And then Leah had been in a foul mood since her team’s loss.

Y/n just wanted some time to relax, a night to herself and Leah– a night she’d been looking forward to.

But everything was going wrong.

Leah sighed, stepping into the room and looking at her watch. “Babe, we’re going to lose the reservation if we don’t leave now,” she said, repeating herself once again.

“Bloody hell, Leah” Y/n snapped as she turned to Leah. “You can go alone if you want to.” 

Y/n clutched the eyeliner before throwing it at Leah, who dodged it while looking at Y/n as if she was crazy.

Leah stood frozen for a second after dodging the eyeliner, her eyes flickering from Y/n and the spot where the eyeliner landed. For a moment she felt her face hardened–her eyebrows getting drawn tight, her lips parted, ready to snap at Y/n. 

But instead, she sighed and ran her hands down her face in frustration before collecting herself. She breathed one, two, three times. But as she was ready to speak, Y/n’s angry voice filled the room.

For a second, Leah’s anger burned hot. ‘She can’t be serious’, Leah thought. She was just trying to get her out the door so they didn’t lose the reservation, the reservation to the restaurant Y/n wanted to go.

She wanted to scream at Y/n and tell her she was being irrational.

“You clearly don’t care about how I feel and how I look,” Y/n stomped her way to their bedroom. “I just wanted to do a fucking cat eye.”

As Y/n screamed the last quote, she slammed the door to the bedroom shut. She could already feel tear-pickering in her eyes. She cleaned the tears aggressively while going to the bathroom. 

Stupid. She was stupid. She couldn’t get ready on time. She couldn't do her make-up properly. She couldn’t even pick an outfit. Y/n was looking at herself in the mirror and realised she looked ugly in it.

She began crying even more, her hand pressed to her face. 

Nothing went as planned this week. Nothing went as planned today.

A gentle knock came on the bathroom door, and moments later, Leah walked in, crossing the room quietly and wrapping her arms around Y/n.

“Shh, it’s okay, come here.”

Y/n felt warmth and the sweet smell of Leah’s cologne. 

Leah held Y/n to her chest as she put her chin on top of Y/n’s head, rocking them silently.

It was like the physical comfort was just another trigger for Y/n’s tears. She pressed her body even harder against Leah as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry today’s been so hard,” Leah whispered in her ear. “I also didn’t contribute much to it, huh?”

Leah’s heart clenched, watching Y/n like that, shoulder shaking slightly, feeling the girl sobbing against her body. If Leah was feeling any kind of angriness or frustration, it disappeared the moment she landed her eye on Y/n. 

Leah knew the whole situation wasn’t really about the make-up or the reservation. Y/n had been snappier than usual in the last few days, and Leah had a pretty good guess as to why.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Y/n mumbled, Y/n sniffled, lifting her head slightly to meet Leah’s gaze.” I-I’m just pmsing, I think.” 

“Oh, so that’s what it is,” Leah said knowingly, her lips quirking into a small smile .“My girl always gets so cranky.” Leah pinched Y/n’s cheek playfully.

Y/n nodded, shyly.

“Come on,” Leah said, helping Y/n sit on the bathroom counter while she took some makeup wipes. “Let me help clean you up.”

Y/n sat quietly as Leah grabbed some makeup wipes, her hands surprisingly gentle as she wiped away the smudged eyeliner. Leah’s fingers lingered on Y/n’s face, her thumb brushing along her jaw as if trying to erase more than just makeup.

“I’m sorry I made us lose the reservation,” Y/n mumbled, her voice small “I was just…frustrated about how I looked and the make-up wasn’t helping.”

Leah leaned in and kissed her softly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I get grumpy when I’m PMSing too. You don’t have to feel bad.”

“But I was a bitch,” Y/n muttered, her voice full of guilt.

“Nah,” Leah grinned, waving it off. “Okay, maybe a bit, but I was bloody annoying, so I don’t blame you.”

“I hope we can get the reservations soon?” Y/n asked, looking to the side as Leah gently turned her chin.

“I’ll try again next week, alright?” Leah promised.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled, still sounding defeated.

“You know,” Leah murmured softly, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple, “I don’t care if you show up with the messiest eyeliner in the world. You’re still the prettiest girl ever.”

They were in silence as Leah finished cleaning Y/n’s face, her thumb always so gently tracing the line of her cheeks and nose.

“Well, if this cat-eye thing doesn't work out, we could always just go for the ‘I'm so cute even when I cry’ look, "Leah said teasingly, as she wiped the last bit of makeup away.

“I’ll take the cute look any day,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully.

“It looks great on you, darling,” Leah said, kissing Y/n on the lips. “Anything on you looks great.”

“Did you still think that when I had a raccoon-styled eyeliner just half an hour ago?” Y/n smiled, lifting one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Leah winked at her. “It looked edgy, I liked it.”

..

Please don't forget to like, reblog and leave feedback!!! plss <3

Masterlist

[seongminiz]

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ good kitty ₊˚⊹♡

. . ? boy pussy cat hybrid jungwon x gn reader – smut / minors dni ; 1135 words

cw dubcon ? , switch/sub leaning jungwon , possessive jungwon , scratching , dry humping , heats , fingering , praise , a liiiiittle tiny bit of spit .. ; very half assed n not proof read bc thats the jo seongminiz way of life , yes i did that thing where my grammar/writing gets better the further u get into the fic IM SORRY

(dont ask me how i had this idea it just spawned in my brain through the sheer power of lesbianism)

cat hybrid!jungwon was kind of shy when u first started living together , but he quickly warmed up to you n became sooo clingy, now he follows u everywhere you go n asks for cuddles n head scratches at any time of the day , no matter how busy u r ..

despite being so clingy , though , jungwon was never as desperate for your attention as he has been for the past few days : constantly sneaking up on u n wrapping his tail around your waist , or letting it snake up your leg , rubbing his nose on your neck and holding you tighter than usual when you cuddle .

jungwon has also started showing a possessive streak , wagging his tail and flattening his ears in discontent when you come home from work n your clothes smell like someone else – rationally , he knows its normal , he shouldn't be this upset by you simply going outside n interacting with other people , even other hybrids .. but there's a more irrational part of him that has started to think its not fair , n he should just keep you all to himself

this all culminated on one particular night , jungwon has been restless the whole day , waiting for you to come home more eagerly than ever because he needs to see you, to be close to you , to touch you and ... his thoughts trail off as he feels a familiar heat between his legs , one he has forced himself to ignore ever since he moved in with you , but it's been getting so much worse lately , maybe if he asked you for help you could ....

the door clicks open , n you immediately notice something is wrong , mostly because jungwon is sitting quietly by the door , slightly dozing off , the blush on his cheeks more prominent than usual and a hand absentmindedly slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants , just .. there .

'jungwon?' u call out , his ears immediately perking up and twitching as soon as he hears your voice . he should feel bad when he sees the worried expression on your face , almost scared , not knowing exactly whats going on with him – instead , jungwon is happy and , to be completely honest , slightly turned on by it .

'wonie? are you sick?' you try again , crouching next to jungwon , shaking him by his shoulder to catch his attention , but all you get from him is a pained whimper that makes you immediately retract your hand , scared that u might have hurt him in any way .

despite his condition , jungwon still has the quick reflexes of a cat , he wraps his hand around your wrist and he pulls you closer again , claws digging slightly into your skin.

''m sorry' jungwon mumbles, rubbing his nose on your hand before licking the tips of your fingers . it's then you realize his other hand is still between his legs , moving so imperceptibly you wouldn't have noticed if u were any further away . the realization finally dawns on you .

'wonie are you ..' u let the question hang as another whimper leaves the cat hybrid's parted lips . jungwon nods weakly and , before you have time to process it , he has pushed you to the floor , hips straddling yours and both hands now holding you down.

'it hurts' he confesses, not so subtly grinding his hips down on your thigh . you should push him off , help him get through his heat in an appropriate way instead of letting him do however he pleases with you – instead , you just lay there , one hand slowly slipping out of jungwon's desperate grasp and brushing on the exposed skin between his shirt and pants , despite the small feeling of insufferable guilt at the back of your head .

you hook your fingers into the waistband , and jungwon swears he could cum just from you taking his clothes off . he doesn't , but he sure as hell would if he had just a bit of self control less than he does right now .

'what do you want?' you ask , now impossibly turned on too . it would be a lie to say u never felt attracted to jungwon , but this is the first time you have to face that attraction with no other way to cope with it than to act on it . to fuck him .

jungwon doesn't answer , opting to hump your thigh again instead with a broken moan . you can feel his wetness seep through his underwear and your own clothes , and it drives you even more insane .

'jungwon.' you reprimand , voice more firm as you hold his hips still . he tries to protest , but relents once he realizes you won't let him get away with being a brat , not when he's the desperate one at least .

'need ...' he stops for a second , looking like he genuinely can't form a coherent thought – and he probably , truly can't . the blush on his cheeks deepens as he avoids your gaze , his tail twitching against your legs .

'need your fingers.' he finally mumbles , bending down so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck out of embarrassment .

'see? it wasn't that hard, was it?' you pet jungwon's hair , as your free hand finally slips past his underwear . and god , he's even more wet than you expected , completely soaking your fingers the moment they come in contact with his pussy .

jungwon moans , loud , his whole body freezing up for a split second as you immediately push two fingers in his hole , his walls contracting around them before he relaxes against you , drool dripping out of his mouth and onto the collar of your shirt .

'good kitty,' you praise as you start to move your fingers , relishing in the way jungwon twitches , and moans , and squeezes at every little movement , until he's gripping your shoulders and his claws rip through your clothes – you'll definitely make him pay for that when he's in a more sound state of mind – to mark your skin .

''m gonna cum' jungwon's voice cracks , slightly more high pitched as you add a third finger and curl them inside of him .

'you're gonna cum for me?' you push the heel of your palm on his clit 'gonna cum like a good kitty?'

'yes' jungwon whines , grinding his hips down to meet your thrusts . 'like your good kitty.'

that one self-admission is enough to send jungwon over the edge, trembling and moaning, and cumming so hard he soaks your clothes too , clenching around your fingers until he's completely spent .

you both just lay there , on the floor , too tired to move , or do anything , really – despite your own , new 'problem' between your legs . you'll take care of that later , though . for now , you stay still , petting jungwon's head as he licks and bites along your neck , mumbling 'thank you's and small apologies , and saying something about cleaning you up .

[miange1]

hiii :)

i wanna request something with lo'ak? i saw something where he likes to call the reader "mama?" i kinda want something like that but with male reader please? smut as well😓

sorry if it's weird💔💔

LO'AK SULLY

male reader, human reader, reader lwk autistic and is into the ocean, feminization, submissive top lo'ak, it's cute for like two seconds before they start fuckin, praise kinks, sweet talk(mustve been the wind), i wanna jerk off but, i miss my friend

note: skibidi

"mornin' mama." your head turned over for a moment, a small smile to your face before you turned back and continued your task.

"told you to stop calling me that lo'." your fingers messed around with the trinket, twisting and turning it. it was a sort of camera to help monitor the plants lifestyle, grace claimed she absolutely needed it or else she'd strangle someone.

"mh," he shrugged, kneeling behind you and his eyes curiously watching you work. how he called you that nickname was an honest accident. you had been talking his ear off— voice moving at a thousand miles per hour explaining things you found in the ocean and how much more cooler and interesting it is rather than the one back on earth.

he was completely love struck, eyes hooded and tail softly and slowly wishing around. "you're so pretty mama.." and he had instantly snapped out of it when you stopped talking, face hot and your expression filled with embarrassment.

ever since then it kind of flowed out.

"watcha makin'?" his head tilted and you looked back up at him. "you want something." you knew he did, you could just tell.

a wince went through his teeth, eyes averting you a moment.

his bigger hands lightly moved yours from the trinket, leaning down so his head could rest into your stomach. a small 'umf' noise came from you as he put himself onto you.

his lips kissed subtly above the fabric of your shirt, tips of his fingers grazing underneath it. "i just..missed you.." indicating he wanted to fuck you.

"missed me?" he nodded, inching your shirt up just a bit more. he wasn't slick, he knew that but he just needed you so badly he was going to lose his mind.

"so much mama," he gave you that look, that look that made your dick shoot up and he'd do it on purpose to get what he wanted.

despite you telling him that you weren't too keen on the nickname, every time you wanted to tease him, or make him feel like he was melting, you used the nickname.

lo'aks tail swished around behind him, hands in the same spot as before except you were completely nude. your cock tip leaking uselessly onto your stomach whilst lo'ak would inch the tip in before trying to go inside more and more.

you could already feel him in your stomach and he was barely half way in. you took in all of his sounds, the squelches and his little squeaks of when he thrusted inside just right.

he would just whine and whine— 'mama' over again, sometimes shortening it to 'ma' and try to dig himself inside deeper

"oh lo'ak..god, just like that..just how mama likes it, hm? so good.." your eyes closed in pleasure, fingers tangled in his hair and tugging on it just to hear a strained moan from time to time.

his eyes focused back up on you, filled with complete patheticness and submission. his hips stuttered a slight bit, breathes becoming more broken up and separated.

"ah, stop." and he did, almost instantly the moment you had said it. "wha— what, why?" he was afraid he had done something wrong, it was almost adorable.

"no reason," you kissed his nose, making his heart flutter and a deeper shade of blue come onto his cheeks. "mama.." he mumbled, realizing you had done that on purpose.

"shh.. keep going im sorry."

[mayajadewrites]

deprivation

shota aizawa x reader

characters: shota aizawa, fem! reader

synopsis: the teachers of UA are out at a bar for their weekly happy hour. aizawa is (reluctantly) there, sipping on a beer after a long week of dealing with his students. reader has had a long week dealing with her own classes and other hero work, so she's letting loose tonight.

warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), smut!!!

IM BACK! this is the first thing i've written in months so pls be kind to me :) i've missed u guys!

"Another round, bartender!" Present Mic, Hizashi, slams down his shot glass and smiles at the bartender with his pearly white teeth as he lowers his glasses on his nose.

You feel the warm liquid go down your throat as you throw back yet another shot - courtesy of Hizashi and Nemuri. Your mouth curves into a pout as you feel the burning sensation down your esophagus, shaking your head.

"Fuck, what was that? Acid?" You take a sip of water, shaking your head as you look over at Shota Aizawa, who's leaning lazily on the wall next to the table, his gaze lazily on you.

"Tequila." He speaks up quietly before sipping on his beer. He has his hair half up, half down and his sleeves are rolled up slightly so you can see his forearms. His muscular, manly forearms.

The truth is, you've had feelings for Aizawa for awhile now. You're pretty good at masking them, however you can have to stop yourself from letting your feelings crawl up your throat and out of your mouth.

You've known Aizawa for about 3 years, been friendly and even had some lunches together in the faculty break room.

He's a friend. A coworker. A colleague. And he doesn't do relationships, according to... well, everyone.

Being a teacher and a hero means your schedule is always busy. Almost no time to relax, except the weekly happy hour.

"Well, it's gross." You look up at Aizawa for a moment before turning your attention back to Hizashi and Nemuri.

Aizawa chuckles lightly before shaking his head, going back to being quiet and observing.

Another drink can't hurt.

It must've been a couple hours later, but you've lost most of the control of your limbs and mind. Shot after shot, drink after drink - your mind was hazy.

Your eyes are half lidded as you rest your cheek on your palm, shamelessly staring at Aizawa as you give him a warm, drunk smile.

"You're cut off." He says, putting his beer bottle on the table. You give him an uncharacteristic pout, leaning up slightly.

"You're no fun." You stand up, almost falling as you try to stand up straight. You feel large, warm hands on your hips, catching you before you fall.

When you look up, you're almost hypnotized by the dark eyes that are staring back at you.

"I'm taking you home." Aizawa says, grabbing his jacket, then helping you put yours on.

When you lift your arms, a pout is still on your face as he pulls the sleeves over your arms. He's treating you like a child. "I can put my jacket on myself."

Aizawa looks at you, giving you a knowing look before he rolls his eyes, pulling your sleeves up. He doesn't answer verbally, but you know he's saying some sarcastic remark in his head.

You pull your purse over your shoulder, running your fingers through your hair to try to gain some sort of control. To feel something.

You feel the strands of your hair, taking a breath as you look down. How did you get so drunk? Did the bartender put more liquor in the drinks than usual?

You feel Aizawa's large hand grip your arm, gently pulling you out of the bar. You hear a mess of drunk goodbyes, most of the other teachers probably won't even remember you left.

The cold air hits your skin when you walk outside, immediately crossing your arms over your chest. Aizawa looks down at you, giving you a soft smirk before taking his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car.

Like the gentleman he is, he ushers you into the passenger seat, closing the door softly. You lean your head on the window, closing your eyes as you try to breathe slowly.

"You okay for me to drive?" He looks at you, the keys already in the ignition.

You only nod, your hands on your thighs as your fingers fumble with the rips in your jeans.

"I'm sorry you have to drive me home." You say after a few minutes of silence.

"I'd rather me take you home then you get in some Uber drunk." His eyes are on the road, not looking at you for a second.

Your eyes fall down his arms to his hands, almost mesmerized by them. His hands are big, slightly rough from his years of teaching and hero work, the veins visible.

Fuck.

When he pulls up to your apartment, you sigh as you look at the front of your building. Aizawa looks at you, finally, and huffs softly. "Come on, before you throw up in my car."

Was the apartment clean enough? Did you leave your clothes out that you were picking out before work?

It's too late to give a shit now.

You unlock the front door to the apartment, sighing as you took your shoes off and looked around the room. It's not messy, thank goodness.

Your cat Salem (yes he's an all black cat, how cliche but cute), trots up to the door and rubs his body against your calves, stopping in front of Aizawa. You didn't look, but you could feel the glare Salem was giving him.

When you turn around to look at Aizawa in the doorway, your cheeks flush pink. He's leaning against the doorframe, his broad shoulders on full display as your eyes wander his body.

When you finally look in his eyes, he's already looking into yours.

"Are you okay if I go?" He clears his throat, standing up straight, looking away from you for a moment.

No. Fuck no, it's not okay. You wanted to say.

It might be the liquor talking, but - "N-no. I'm not okay for you to leave."

Aizawa blinks, looking rather confused as he stays leaning against the doorframe. "Why not? Are you gonna be sick or something?"

You close your eyes, pressing your palms to your face as you sigh, shaking your head.

"My quirk isn't mind reading, you know. You have to tell me what you're thinking." He steps into your apartment. Just one step, but a step none the less.

You remove your hands from your face, looking up at him as he steps closer to you. Damn, he's handsome. His hair is wavy, some pieces framing his face, a slight pink in his cheeks from the cold temperature outside.

"I want you to stay here with me." You slur your words slightly, wincing after hearing the way they came out. He gives you a sympathetic look, shaking his head slightly.

"I don't know if-"

"What, you have a girlfriend? A wife? A fuck buddy?" The liquor keeps talking. You're more confident now as you speak, but the liquor in your system has nearly taken over.

"No, I don't. But you're drunk, and -"

"And what!" Your voice is almost a whine when you look up at him. He's looking down at you, a slight - very slight smirk on his lips as he speaks slowly.

"You just need to sleep, okay? I'll help you -" He reaches his hand out to usher you to your bedroom, but you refuse to leave from the spot you stand.

He's still touching your arm, but you're closer to him now. You can smell his cologne, musk with a hint of vanilla. Your fingers gently press to his broad chest, gauging his reaction.

He doesn't move, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. You toy with the button on his shirt, pressing it between your thumb and index finger.

When you look up into his eyes, he's staring into yours again. This time he doesn't look away.

This is it. This is your shot.

You lean in, pressing your palm flat onto his chest as you stand on your tippy toes, your lips hovering in front of his as you close your eyes.

"No." He whispers, his large hand moving to the back of your head to stop you from falling back. "You're drunk."

You huff, opening your eyes and looking at him through your lashes. "So what? I know what I'm doing, Shota."

The man's fingers lace in your hair, caressing your scalp gently as he looks in your eyes, the look on his face far softer than you've seen.

"If I kiss you, I want you to remember it." His tone is so... affectionate. Soft. As if he wants to make sure the words don't hurt.

"Please stay." You look in his eyes again, pleading. "Stay on the couch, please. Just don't leave. Don't leave me."

After a moment, he nods, moving his hand out of your hair and to the small of your back. "Let's get you ready for bed."

Once you had your pajamas on, brushed your teeth and did your skincare, you hand Aizawa a pillow and blanket for the couch, giving him a soft, still intoxicated smile.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me. Sleep well." He lays down on the couch, pulling his phone out to scroll as he lays the blanket on his body.

You don't remember going to bed, but you do remember the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you closed your door.

The next morning your head is pounding, but apparently your guardian angel left a glass of water on your nightstand along with Advil. You silently thank this angel, taking a sip of the water with the Advil, sitting up on your bed. Salem is curled up next to you in bed - his usually spot.

7AM.

Quietly, you open the door from your bedroom, peering into the living room, looking for Aizawa. The blanket was neatly folded on the couch along with the pillow.

No Aizawa.

You sigh, your hand pressed to the doorframe as you feel the sadness seep through your pores. He really left in the middle of the night?

Of course he did. He owes you nothing. He's just your colleague, coworker.

When you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wake yourself up, you hear your front door open.

With your toothbrush in your mouth, you walk out to the living room, eyes widening when you see the figure at the door.

Aizawa. With a bag of bagels and coffees.

"Good morning to you too." He says flatly, putting the breakfast and coffees on the counter as he takes off his shoes.

When Salem heard Aizawa's voice, he hopped off the bed and walked over to him, rubbing along his legs. You raise an eyebrow, watching the interaction.

Coming out from the bathroom after finishing brushing your teeth, you raise an eyebrow. "I thought you left."

"You thought I would leave without saying goodbye?" He presses his palm to his chest, feigning pain. "I'm not that kind of man."

"Well what else was I supposed to think? You took me home, helped my drunk ass get ready for bed, and I even tried to kiss you. I wouldn't blame you for escaping." You look down, sighing as you feel the embarrassment from last night. "I'm so sorry, by the way."

Aizawa didn't respond, only getting plates and napkins from the cabinets, opening a few to see where everything is. "You're awfully organized."

"I know." Slowly, you walk up to the kitchen island, leaning on the counter as you smell the savory aroma of the bagels, grabbing your iced coffee from the drink tray. "You remembered my coffee order? We've only gotten coffee together once."

"Yeah." His back is to you, his reaction unseen as he puts the bagels on plates, your eyes wandering to his broad shoulders, cascading down to his waist.

Breakfast was spent together, talking about the past week of teaching and enjoying each others company. With Aizawa, you can be yourself. Effortlessly.

When you finish your bagel, you lean your palm onto your cheek, letting your eyes wander to his gaze, a soft smile on your lips.

"What?" He his tone is lighter than usual, not as stoic and flat.

"You have cream cheese on your lip." You smile softly, reaching your thumb out, hovering over his lips. "May I?"

He nods, leaning his head towards yours slightly, his dark eyes looking down into yours as your thumb gracefully presses to his bottom lip, wiping off the cream cheese.

Bravely, you bring your thumb to your lips, tongue darting out to taste before pushing it into your mouth, your lips wrapped around your thumb as you keep your eyes on his.

Aizawa's face turned slightly pink, but his expression was still solid.

You stare at him, speaking softer than before as your body leans in slightly closer to his.

His heartbeat slightly increased, his head tilting slightly to the side. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Fuck, his voice is like velvet.

"The fact that I'm not drunk right now." You clear your throat, giving him a lazy smile. "And I still want to kiss you."

A noise came from his throat, it sounded almost like a purr. His eyes are hypnotizing, half-lidded as he leans in, bringing his large hand to your cheek.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, letting his thumb gently caress your cheek.

When you nod, he doesn't waste another second.. He presses his plush lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss. His hand slides down to the side of your neck, letting his fingers gently wrap around. His thumb grazed the front column of your neck, earning a soft noise from you.

When he heard the noise, he needed more. You let your hands press to his chest, gripping his shirt between your fingers as you part your lips slightly as your lips move in time with his.

You felt his fingers press gently against your throat, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he takes a sharp breath through his nose, deepening the kiss.

"Sh-Shota." You mumble against his lips, pulling his shirt to get him closer to you.

"Mm?"

"Bed. Please."

Aizawa's hands must have been crafted by the Greek Gods themselves, they fit perfectly on your body as he slid his palms from your neck to your ass, lifting you up as he stands, one of his hands grabbing your thigh to wrap around him. His lips stayed on your skin, kissing your neck, chest, the valley between your breasts - like he was addicted.

Once he opened the door to your bedroom, to your bed that was left unmade, he gently laid you down on your back, his eyes wandering over your figure before crawling on top of you.

You both hear a soft meow - Salem at the door looking for attention.

"Sorry kid, I have to give your mommy some special attention." Aizawa gently shoos him from the door, closing the door gently before turning his gaze back to you. "Where were we?"

Aizawa's lips tasted like black coffee, his natural scent invading your senses. You couldn't keep your hands off of him - from his jawline, across his stubble, his chest, biceps, no part of him was off limits.

Contrary to his stoic appearance, he's a very attentive, caring lover. His hands cascaded down your body, occasionally bringing them to your thick thighs, squeezing the skin as his tongue slips into your mouth.

Your fingers run through his wavy black hair, moaning into his mouth as you grip on the inky strands. You could feel him hardening above you, pressing his pelvis against your thigh.

"Sh-Shota." You let out a soft moan as you wrap your leg arond his waist, his hand instinctively moving to your thigh to assist you.

"Yes, kitten?" He fucking purred, moving slightly back as he looked in your eyes.

You couldn't speak, your mouth just hangs open slightly as you watch him take a hair tie from his pocket and pull his hair back. His front pieces of hair fall around his face before he leans down again, kissing your lips softly before moving his lips to your neck.

"You've always been so shy, kitten." Aizawa mumbles into your neck, biting it after his new nickname for you. "I've been waiting for you to make a move."

You furrow your eyebrows, closing your eyes as you tilt your head to the side slightly to give him more space to assault your neck.

"Why didn't you make a move first then, Eraser?"

"I didn't know if that's what you wanted." He pressed a kiss to your jawline, then your ear, then your lips as he smirked.

"You're the worst." You close your eyes to stop yourself from staring at him, biting at your lower lip to stop a moan from escaping.

"I'm the worst? I don't think you mean that." Aizawa smirks, a dirty smirk - one that you'll never forget. He lowers his body, moving down to your stomach as he pushes your oversized tshirt up, kissing your bare stomach gently as his hands pull your sweatpants down. "Is this okay?"

You nod, not able to get words out as you watch him pull your sweatpants all the way down, throwing them on the floor before his fingers hook on the side of your panties - black lace.

"These are cute." You could hear the smirk on his lips as he kisses the lace.

"The worst." You whine, your fingers pressing into your palms as your eyes roll back.

"Look at me." His voice is muffled against your thigh as he looks up at you. You look down into his beautiful dark eyes and nod, a sharp breath escaping your nostrils. "I want to see your pretty face when you come on my mouth."

He wasted no time pulling down your underwear, discarding them to the side as he pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, nestling between your thighs.

Your hand found it's way to his hair, your fingers digging into his scalp as you feel his lips get closer and closer to where you need him the most. Your hips bucked as you squirmed, his lips planting wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his nose grazed your slit - a smirk on his lips. The slick covered the tip of his nose, causing you to shudder.

"She's excited to finally meet me."

Fuck you, Shota Aizawa.

He plants a soft kiss near your clit before pressing his tongue flat along your slit, dragging it down before devouring you.

Your fingers gripped his hair as you felt his magical tongue inside you, like you're his last meal. Your hips bucked slightly, causing him to hold onto your hips, keeping you still.

"Eyes on me, baby." He mumbles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. This man knows how to use his tongue and you envy any other woman that's gotten to experience this.

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently as he plunges two fingers inside you, curling them as he starts pushing them deeper.

"Shota, fuck, please -"

"Please what, kitten. Use your words."

"Don't stop, y-you're perfect." Your eyes roll to the back of your head while Aizawa drinks in every moment.

Your thighs start to shake in a way that makes him squeeze your skin, not breaking eye contact as he sucks on your clit while plunging two digits in and out of you.

He can feel your spongy walls tighten around his fingers, signaling your orgasm approaching.

"That's right, baby. Come for me. Make a mess." He mumbles against you, his fingers moving faster and faster.

You start to see splotches of white in your vision, trying your best to keep your eyes on him as you come, but you're overcome by the pleasure he's giving you.

He never stops sucking, licking, and finger fucking you through your high. "Thats it kitten. You taste so good." His low, sultry voice vibrates through your entire body.

When you finally open your eyes, Aizawa rises up, your slick glistening on his plump, pink lips. You suck in a sharp breath as your chest rises and falls, your eyes never leaving his as he crawls on top of you, his hand moving to his own pants as he palms himself through the fabric.

"Let me-" You reach your hand out to touch him, but he shakes his head.

"Baby, I can't not be inside you any longer." In one swift movement, he slides his pants off, along with his boxer briefs. He takes his length in his hand, letting the tip graze your still sensitive post orgasm pussy. "My girl is still so sensitive, hm?"

You let out a whimper, your hands pressing to his shirt as you pull on the fabric, pulling it over his head. His hair is in a now messy ponytail, thanks to your fingers, and you swear you've never seen anything more beautiful.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?"

You look down at his length in his hand, and fuck, he's big and girthy. You nod, swallowing some spit that gathered in your mouth.

Shota Aizawa is an attentive, communicative lover. He doesn't speak much outside of the bedroom, but inside - god damn.

He slowly guides himself inside of you, his eyes rolling back as he feels your spongy walls grip him, swallowing him.

"That's it, kitten. You're taking me so well." He used his free hand to run his fingers through your hair, caressing your cheek as he pushes his hips into you, filling you entirely to the hilt.

"Sh-Shota, -" You gasp as you feel him in his entirety as he plants a soft kiss on your parted lips.

"I'm gonna start moving, baby." He grunts, moving his hips to create momentum, his hand still caressing your cheek. "You're fucking perfect."

As he picks up his pace, you get lost in the pleasure. You feel like you're one with him, unlike any other parter you've had.

Aizawa keeps kissing you through this, mumbling affirmations as his own eyes roll back.

"So tight. So perfect."

"She takes me so well, like she was made for me."

"I've dreamt about this pussy."

Next thing you know, he has you in a mating press. Your legs at your head, his thick cock sheathing into you, watching him disappear inside of you.

His pupils are blown as his his jaw hangs open, completely in a trance as his hands wrap around your ankles, pushing them down.

"Sh-Shota -" You're breathless at this point, struggling to make a cohearant thought.

"I know, baby. I-I'm close." His dark eyes roll back as he thrusts become more messy, his hips almost stuttering as he empties himself inside of you.

As he climaxes, his dark brows furrow and his eyes roll back, a truly beautiful sight.

As your insides become coated in white, Aizawa finally slows down, with one last slow, deep thrust inside of you before he pulls out, rolling onto his back. He brings his palm to his forehead, breathing heavily.

"I can't believe I deprived myself for so long." He finally spoke, his red dusted cheeks fading slightly.

When you turn to look at him, he has a love struck, dumb ass look on his face. An uncharacteristic smile on his face as he pulls you closer to him, kissing your temple. "You're perfect."

Your insides truly feel rearranged. After some time, both of you falling asleep but waking back up soon after, he pecks your lips gently.

"I won't be depriving myself anymore." His voice is soft as he nuzzles his face into your neck. Your hand find its way to his hair, letting his ponytail down as a soft hum leaves your lips.

"You better not."

About 15 minutes later, you both hear a soft meow at the door, followed by sounds of claws on the door. You're laid on Aizawa's bare chest as he traces random shapes on your skin.

"Sorry kid, daddy had to take care of mommy." Aizawa smirks, kissing your temple before pulling his underwear on, padding to the door and opening it, letting Salem into the bedroom.

[fluffylino]

worried!minho

minho wants to take away all your pain~

-contains mature themes

when were the cramps going to go. it was your second day of having your period. you had leaked through your pad and stained your clothes. now, you sat on the bed, swaddled up in a bedsheet while a random anime was playing on tv.

you were far too distracted to even pay attention to the dialogues. another sharp pain to your lower stomach. you huffed, wrapping your arms around your stomach. you curled up into a ball, adjusting your pad which had moved out of place.

minho's footsteps could be heard. he was busily moving about. from the kitchen, to the living room and then to check on you.

"how are you feeling, baby?" you jumped at the sudden appearance. he was standing beside you, looking at your bundled up figure with soft eyes. you let out a whine, lightly kicking your legs. you could hear his quiet laugh.

"mm' hurts" you mumbled, reaching your hand out. he took it, sitting close to you. he brushed your hair out of your face and leaned over you to take the remote. switching off the tv.

"still?" he seemed worried.

the thing was, it was rare for you to get cramps. you hardly ever got cramps that made you stay in one spot. on any other period you'd only feel a slight discomfort in your stomach. but today was different. you weren't used to it. and minho wasn't used to seeing you in such pain.

you looked at him through the bedsheets, only your eyes and mouth visible. his smile grew and he couldn't help but pat your head like you were one of his cats. which to him you were.

"i gave you a heating pad..we did some muscle relieving exercises and drank lots of water..what else could possibly work?" minho furrowed his eyebrows, his lips jutting out as he blinked. and blinked. and blinked-

"you know there is something that definitely works for sure. i was reading that orgasms help"

your eyes widened and then you slowly sighed.

well, that was true. but sex on your period would just end up looking like a crime scene. it made you feel confused. because yes, all the raging hormones were constantly at battle with your mind.

"but its icky and you'd probably find it...not so nice"

minho looked at you. "what makes you say i wouldn't like it?"

you were taken aback. did he really not mind?

"i don't think i want to do the...whole thing" you mumbled, shyly.

"so then should i try eating yo-" you screamed, pushing the bedsheet over him. shivering at how cold the room actually was.

"no no no" you chanted. that was not something you'd ever want to put him through, for the sake of your pleasure. you were aware of him. he didn't care about blood at all. in fact he was so chill about it. like the time you accidently stained his pants when you fell asleep on him.

he even washed out the sheets.

he ruffled around, throwing it on the ground. he scooted closer.

"should i finger you then, hm? that shouldn't be so bad, would it?" you nodded slowly.

"but what if i make a mess..again"

"i'll put a towel underneath"

"what if you get blood all over your fingers..."

"baby if i did mind it, i wouldn't have been so eager to suggest it"

he smiled. minho was ever so patient. always answering you with a reassuring statement whenever you fell down a spiral of unecessary thoughts.

"can you use gloves...?" you asked so softly, you had to repeat it for him to hear.

"whatever you want, baby. i recently just bought a whole new pack of gloves for when im marinating meat"

you smiled nervously.

"guess ill be using them to touch some other kind of meat" you pushed him off the bed. he gave you a sarcastic smile. your stomach doing flips at his expression.

.

you stood up, freezing when you felt a blood clot come out. there was no way you could do this. you finally decided on washing your lower body. so you did, carefully stepping out of the bathroom.

"take your pants off.." minho had come back, this time pulling the gloves up and over his wrists.

oh, so they were like the surgical gloves. the ones that fitted well...a little two well. his hands looked nice. they looked very nice in fact-

"what? you don't want the gloves? i don't mind" your eyes met his and doubt filled him. if only he knew what you were actually thinking about.

"i want it"

he had laid the towel down and you sat on it. you pulled your oversized shirt down, trying the cover up.

minho walked towards you, opting to sit behind you. his back resting against the headboard and your back to his chest. you felt a little exposed. he was fully clothed while all you wore was a t shirt.

you could feel his breath on your ear. minho's left hand rubbed on your stomach while his right hand slid between your legs.

he let out a surprised laugh. you knew you were wet. he could feel it. after seeing his hands in those latex gloves, you couldn't fight it.

"be a good kitty and open up for me"

you mewled at the nickname. lifting your knees up while he kept your legs open for him. he pushed a finger inside before slowly adding a second digit.

at this point you weren't sure if it was blood or slick or maybe both that leaked out onto his fingers.

"sorry" you apologized, you didn't even know why you were saying sorry. the pain in your stomach was the last the thing you were worried about.

"talk t-to me" you whispered, leaning into him. he lazily grazed his thumb over your clit while his digits pumped inside of you. with just enough pressure to not be too much for you.

"its okay, baby...you're doing so great, let me see how well you take my fingers" you moaned, as he pressed his palm against your heat. the latex feeling unusually nice. on your skin. and especially inside you.

"n-nice hands"

"yeah? you think my hands are nice? what do you like about my hands hm?"

he asked. he wasn't teasing you. he wasn't even joking about it. in fact he seemed to be curious. he wanted to feed into you.

"v-veiny..pretty and big...feels amazing inside of me" you answered back, bucking your hips when he added a third digit.

"you sure you aren't talking about my dick, kitten?"

"that even" you blabbered. letting him hook his chin on your shoulder. his breath hitched when you traced the veins on his forearms. they were so prominent. you wanted to lick them.

"that good, hm? who knew you'd be so attracted to my arms"

another warm sensation between your legs. his gloved fingers gliding in much smoother. you wanted to cringe at the sqelch it made every time he pushed in.

"you know, you have such a pretty little pussy, kitten?"

you blushed, trying to hide away from his comments. he nuzzled against your neck.

"i can't resist when it comes to you. i want to give you everything that i can"

willingly you parted your mouth, taking his other fingers in. he pressed down on your tongue. you sucked on them.

"you'll take anything i give you, won't you because you're my obedient princess"

[hyuniemyunie]

Interrupted Serenity

shadow the hedgehog x gn!reader

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): sonic interrupting yalls cuddling after shadow starts to embrace his instincts🙏 why is this pic different from all my pics? no idea.

IM WORKING ON REQUESTS. i just need to empty my drafts first, theres a lot of finished fics in it😭

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

It started small. Little things.

At first, you thought Shadow was just getting used to affection. The occasional nudge against your hand, the way he leaned into you when you scratched the right spot between his quills. But then—then it got worse. Or better, depending on how you looked at it.

It started with nuzzling. Subtle at first. He’d rub his cheek against your shoulder when he sat next to you, bumping his head against you like some kind of overly dignified cat. Then came the purring. The first time it happened, you thought you were imagining it—until you laid your head against his chest one night and felt it vibrating through you like a low, steady engine.

"Shadow," you whispered, half-laughing, half-in-awe, "are you purring?"

He immediately stopped. Froze. Completely shut down. Like a Windows XP critical error in real-time.

"I don’t purr," he muttered stiffly.

"You literally just did."

"You're hearing things."

"Shadow."

"I'm leaving."

And he did. He straight-up left the room like that would erase what just happened.

But the next day? The nuzzling was back. The nudging. The low, almost subconscious purring whenever you ran your fingers through his quills in just the right way. He started instinctively circling around you when you stood still for too long, and if you weren’t paying attention? He’d just position himself right in front of you until you acknowledged him.

It was adorable.

It was also hilarious.

Because the moment anyone else was around?

Nothing.

Cold, unmovable, untouchable Ultimate Lifeform mode activated.

And the best part? It was instantaneous.

One moment, he was nuzzling into your shoulder, comfortably wrapped around you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—then—

“Yo, Shadow—”

BAM.

He was on the other side of the couch before Sonic could even finish walking into the room.

Just sitting there.

Arms crossed. Legs crossed. Staring at the wall like he had never even heard of affection before in his life.

Sonic, holding a chili dog in one hand, stopped mid-step. Blinked. Slowly looked from you—still sprawled out from where Shadow had just been snuggled up against you—to him, now acting like a statue.

“…What,” Sonic finally said, eyes narrowing, “is happening here?”

You turned your head, making direct eye contact with Shadow. His expression? Blank. Nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion.

But you?

You grinned.

“Oh, nothing much,” you said, stretching dramatically. “Just hanging out with my very affectionate boyfriend.”

Shadow’s ear twitched. If looks could kill, you’d be vaporized.

Sonic, meanwhile, slowly pointed his chili dog at him. “Ohhhh. No way.” A smug grin spread across his face. “You’re going soft, huh?”

Shadow exhaled through his nose. “Leave.”

“I knew it!” Sonic cackled. “I knew you had a mushy side! This is amazing.”

Shadow, still maintaining his unbothered, ice-cold composure, stood up. “I’m leaving.”

“Okay, okay, wait, hold on—” You grabbed his wrist before he could teleport out of pure embarrassment. “You literally just got done rubbing your face on my shoulder like a needy little—”

His entire face twitched. His quills bristled slightly, his body so tense you thought he might actually combust.

“I don’t do that,” he said stiffly.

Sonic, hands on his knees, was trying so hard not to completely lose it. “Dude. Dude. I gotta tell Knuckles about this.”

Shadow—without hesitation—turned and teleported out of the room.

Sonic and you locked eyes.

“…Do you think he’s embarrassed?”

“Oh, he’s mortified.”

And for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop giggling because, despite everything, you knew exactly what was going to happen the second you were alone again.

Shadow was going to be right back at your side, nuzzling, nudging, and purring like nothing ever happened.

The next day, it didn’t take long for the inevitable to happen. After Sonic's teasing, you figured Shadow would keep his distance, pretend he was too proud to even acknowledge his soft spots. But as always, you knew better. The moment the coast was clear, the instant Sonic was out of the picture, Shadow was back at your side.

You were sitting on the couch, trying to focus on something—maybe a video game, maybe just zoning out. But you knew, you knew, the second he’d show up. It wasn’t a matter of "if," it was a matter of "when."

And just like clockwork, there he was. Without a word, without a sound, Shadow was suddenly there, sitting beside you, his presence so subtle and yet unmistakable. He didn’t sit too far, but he didn’t crowd you either. His eyes were fixed on the TV, but there was a certain stillness about him—like he was waiting for something.

You couldn’t help it. You turned your head just slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His quills were a little more relaxed today, his posture still cool, but there was that familiar nudge against your shoulder again, just barely noticeable, as though he couldn’t quite stop himself.

“Shadow,” you said, voice soft, playful, “are you trying to be sneaky?”

He didn’t respond at first. He simply leaned in a little closer, the smallest of movements, but enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I’m not doing anything,” he muttered, eyes still glued to the screen, though you could see the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re imagining things.”

You knew he was lying. The air between you had changed. There was something different in the way he hovered around you now. He was still trying to keep up his tough-guy act, but it was slipping. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was enjoying this—enjoying being near you.

Slowly, cautiously, you reached over and brushed your fingers through his quills, a motion so familiar now that it almost felt automatic. And there it was—the hum. That low, steady vibration against your fingertips. The purr.

You smiled to yourself. He hadn’t even realized it was happening.

“Shadow,” you said again, louder this time. “You’re purring.”

His whole body stiffened, his quills slightly bristling, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave a deep sigh, still trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I’m not purring,” he insisted, eyes still trained on the TV, his voice rougher than usual. “It’s just... the sound of my quills.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, smirking, not buying it for a second. “Sure, Shadow. Whatever you say.”

You couldn’t resist. Reaching out again, you gave him another light scratch between the quills. His body reacted instantly, leaning into it like a cat getting the best back scratch of its life. You felt the purring deepen, the vibration stronger this time, and this time, he didn’t try to hide it.

“Stop it,” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice. If anything, there was a slight softness that you knew he didn’t want you to catch.

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” you teased, continuing to run your fingers through his quills. “This is too much fun.”

“Quit it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, his composure completely slipping now.

But the moment you let your hand fall away, Shadow relaxed again. His purring stopped, but there was an almost relieved sigh that left him. He didn’t move away, though. Instead, he leaned his shoulder against yours, just barely touching, as if he couldn’t bring himself to leave but also didn’t want to admit he liked it.

“You’re impossible,” you murmured, resting your head against his. “But I don’t think you really mind, do you?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you could feel his muscles tense again, like he was debating whether or not to argue. And then, with a sharp exhale, he gave up. “Just... don’t tell anyone.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, I won’t. Your secret’s safe with me.”

And that was the moment it hit you: Shadow wasn’t just coming around because he had to. No, he was choosing to. The tough exterior, the cold demeanor—it was all still there, but it was slipping away in little ways. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it to himself yet, but it didn’t matter. Every time he stayed close, every time he nuzzled or purred or made some small, almost unnoticeable move to be nearer to you, it was like he was telling you, in his own way, that he cared.

And you, of course, were more than happy to let him have his soft side—embarrassment and all.

“I won’t tell anyone, Shadow,” you said again, reaching over to lightly tug at his quills. “I think you’re kind of cute when you’re all... mushy.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward again.

You knew this wasn’t the end of it. It wasn’t going to stop with just a few purrs or nuzzles. Shadow was in too deep now, and though he’d never admit it, you were pretty sure he was just as hooked on it as you were. It might have started small, but now? Now, you could almost feel the change in him—just the tiniest crack in that icy facade.

And you were more than happy to keep him close, to be the one who saw the softer side of him, the one who got to tease him and let him enjoy the affection he never thought he needed.

It was all too easy to know what would happen next.

Shadow, pretending he wasn’t soft? That was so yesterday.

Now, he was yours.

[msbyslilbimbo]

university!au where isagi is in love with you, has been the second he met you, but who also can't stand your situationship with kaiser.

everyone knows about your dynamic with kaiser, its an open secret thats been going on since freshman year, you slip him the answers to the tests so he can stay on the soccer team, he eats you out in your apartment after.

no one talks about it, lest they be subjected to kaiser's wrath. but everyone knows about it.

isagi hates it, it's not fair to you to be degraded in such a way, but you merely shake your head and tell him you're not entirely sure what he's talking about. and it's not like you mind the deal with kaiser, it's beneficial to you both; he gets good grades, you get great sex.

but it's fun to hang out with isagi, you're sure to try and keep the world's separate because you like isagi, he's so sweet and genuine, and he walks you from class to class and buys you sweet treats when you study at the cafe.

he’s only worried for your safety when he brings up kaiser in conversation as he walks you home, trying to dissuade you from ever seeing him again.

“he’s not a good person, you know,” he says sincerely.

you shrug, “most people aren’t good. i just choose to occupy my time with this one.”

“so you know he’s an asshole?”

“he makes me feel good,” you confess.

“you know he’s gotta be doing this with other girls too, right? what about the classes you’re not in with him?”

“you don’t need to worry about it, yoichi.”

the rest of the walk is silent, tense and awkward, it always is when isagi brings up kaiser, until he walks you up the stairs to your small apartment, careful to linger close by just in case.

you stop in front of the all familiar door isagi has seen countless times, but never the other side of. “this is me,” you say softly, adjusting the strap of your bag on your tensing shoulder. “thanks for walking me home, yoichi. it was really sweet of you.”

isagi smiles, “you don’t need to thank me every time i walk you home. it’s just the right thing to do, and im happy i get to do it for you.”

“even so, it’s really sweet-“

the door flies open. isagi jumps a foot in the air, but you barely move a muscle, save for your shoulder that’s now relaxing, but your face is anything but relaxed; it’s pinched in annoyance, unlike the way you were just looking at him, with kindness and patience. isagi assumes is because of the man who opened the door, who���s eyes are shooting daggers at him.

“you’re late,” kaiser hisses.

you roll your eyes, “im only here because im sick of you blowing up my phone.”

“but i got you to come home, didn’t i?”

isagi could punch him straight in the mouth if you’d let him. if looks could kill, kaiser would be a dead man. but to his dismay, you close your eyes to ground yourself before slowly opening them, they’re kind as they look at isagi and appreciative.

"bye, isagi," you smile sweetly, stepping into your apartment, and just as isagi opens his mouth, kaiser slams the door in his face, leaving your friend outside.

you sigh and shrug off your coat, briskly walking past the uninvited soccer player in your apartment. "hanging out with fucking losers now?"

“how did you get in here?” you grumble.

“roomie let me in, she knows the drill.”

“my roommate’s been home for the past week.”

“whatever,” he smirks. he’s quick to intercept you, resting his big hands on your waist and sinking his teeth into his lip. “just wanted to thank you for the 93 on last week's test. professor said it was one of the highest in the class."

"you're welcome," you sigh. he leans down to steal a kiss from you, and when you just barely return it, he pulls back with a quirked brow. he doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s confused at your slight coldness, “michael?”

“yeah?” his voice is annoyed.

“do… you do this with other girls?”

“what the fuck?” he growls.

“answer my question, please.”

“did that little rat fuck put something in your head?” he scoffs. “because he’s full of shit.”

“hey,” you pout. “don’t talk about isagi like that, he’s a good kid.”

“tell him to mind his business and i won’t have to.” there’s a twisted part of you that wants to believe kaiser. you are the only girl he does this with, your bodies belong to only each other, you’re being used for good and not for sport. he appreciates you, he enjoys having you in his life, you’re not just his pawn.

but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

kaiser scoffs before moving his hands up to cup your cheeks, thumb stroking over the swells adoringly, sickly sweet compared to the venom in his gaze just a few moments ago, “don’t listen to him. he’s just jealous; i get the prettiest girl on campus to help me study, he doesn’t get anything.”

“study?” you correct. “you mean cheat?”

“when you say cheat, it makes us sound like villains,” he says, voice like honey and wrapping you tightly around him. you feel yourself melting into his touch, despite every red flag pinging in your brain warning you to not. “we’re not villains, we’re just having fun, yeah? just a couple of seniors,” he leans down to kiss your lips, “having some fun,” another kiss, “helping each other out,” one final kiss before he gently trails them down your lips and across your jawline and down your neck. you whimper at the feeling of his lips slowly maneuvering down, tongue laving over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“no marks,” you remind him.

he chuckles, and it vibrates across your skin, “we belong together, baby… no one else knows about how you giggle when i kiss you here-“ he moves his lips to the ticklish spot behind your ear, making you gasp softly, “no one knows about how sensitive your inner thighs are… no one knows about that pretty spot deep inside of you only my cock can find…”

you whimper as your thighs tighten in arousal, reminders of how good he is to you when you do help him cheat, how thoroughly he ravishes you, worships the ground you walk on.

how desperate he is to keep you around, how far he’s penetrated himself into your soul and wrapped you around his finger, you’re not going anywhere, you’re bound to kaiser forever, destined to give him everything his heart desires, even if it means selling your soul.

“micha…”

“ohhh, there she is,” he chuckles softly, kissing behind your ear once more to make you squeak, “my good girl. gotta keep you away from that isagi if he’s gonna make you question how much i adore you, baby…” he guides your arms to wrap around his neck, which you do, tightly. your face buries into his neck, and you press your pelvis against his.

“micha…”

“what?” he whispers. “need me to take care of you now? got you all needy for me? like hearing me talk about how much i need you?”

“please.”

you feel the shift in the air go from sticky and gooey and loving, to heavy and sinister, like it always does with kaiser. the manipulation runs deep, so deep you can barely see the surface any more.

but that’s okay.

you’ll let him jam his tongue down your throat, lacing with yours to elicit the prettiest noises from you. you let him make you whine as he pulls back, the string of saliva splattering against your chin as it breaks. you’ll let him guide you to your bedroom to lay you down on your bed and worship you like a goddess, pulling your jeans down and working himself between your thighs.

you let him pretend to love you, pretend like this is normal, you’re both supposed to be doing this, this is good for you.

kaiser is all you need.

“michael!”

“im here,” he rasps against your folds.

“never going anywhere, my angel girl.”

[junityy]

🕸 — stay.

pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!

You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.

The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.

Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.

“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.

“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.

“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.

“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.

“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.

Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”

“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.

“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.

But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.

“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.

You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.

“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.

Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.

“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.

While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.

And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.

Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.

Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.

Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.

“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.

Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.

Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.

“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.

“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.

What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.

Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.

“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.

Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.

“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.

Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.

It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.

“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.

“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.

But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.

“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).

“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.

taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127

[chrissssssmut]

Femboy Wonyoung smut?

TUTOR ME SENPAI... (But not in studying)

Femboy Wonyoung x Male Reader

AN: Last fic for this week! I need to sleep bc im so tired and i feel sick😴🤒

It all started with a failing grade. Not yours—Wonyoung’s.

You had always been an above-average student, excelling enough to be recommended as a tutor by your professor. When he first gave you Wonyoung’s name, you were confused. He wasn’t the type to struggle academically. In fact, Wonyoung had always been a top student—one of those effortlessly intelligent people who barely studied yet still managed to stay at the top of the class rankings.

So why did he need a tutor?

You didn’t question it at first. Maybe he had been slipping. Maybe his extracurricular activities were distracting him. Regardless, when he approached you after class, flashing that usual confident smirk, you agreed without hesitation.

That was your first mistake.

The first session was at your place. Wonyoung had insisted, claiming he “needed a quiet environment.” The moment he stepped into your room, though, you started suspecting that studying was the last thing on his mind.

Dressed in a loose off-the-shoulder sweater that barely covered his thighs and knee-high socks that hugged his long legs, Wonyoung looked like he had stepped out of some kind of dream. A dream that should’ve been far from reality but was now sitting cross-legged on your bed, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“So, senpai,” he purred, leaning forward, his sweater slipping just enough to expose a bit more collarbone than necessary. “What subject are we covering first?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the textbook in front of you. “Calculus. You said you needed help with integrals, right?”

“Hm,” Wonyoung hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “I do need help… but math is so boring, don’t you think? We could do something more fun.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Wonyoung, we’re here to study.”

“Oh? You’re so serious, senpai.” He giggled, scooting closer until his knee brushed against yours. “I like that about you.”

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to ignore the way his voice dipped into something more sultry. This was going to be a long night.

This pattern continued for weeks. Every study session, Wonyoung would find new ways to test your patience.

One day, he “accidentally” spilled water on his sweater, forcing him to peel it off and remain in nothing but a sheer tank top. Another time, he stretched so dramatically that his shirt rode up, exposing the smooth skin of his stomach. He even had the audacity to crawl onto your lap once, claiming it was “easier to see the equations from this angle.”

Every time, you resisted. Every time, you reminded yourself that this was just tutoring. Nothing more.

But Wonyoung wasn’t making it easy. In fact, he was making it very difficult.

It happened on a rainy evening. The storm outside raged against your window, the dim glow of your desk lamp casting shadows across your room. Wonyoung was beside you, closer than ever, his fingers trailing along the edge of your textbook instead of actually turning the pages.

“Senpai,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Do you really not see it?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. More dangerous.

“See what?”

“The way I look at you,” he murmured. His fingers found their way to your wrist, tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. “The way I want you.”

Your pulse spiked. You tried to remain composed, but the weight of his words settled deep in your stomach, igniting something you had been trying to suppress for weeks.

“Wonyoung—”

“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too,” he interrupted, shifting so that his face was mere inches from yours. “You keep pushing me away, but I know you want me.”

You swallowed hard, every rational thought in your head screaming at you to stop this before it went too far. But then Wonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Show me, senpai.”

And that was all it took for you to snap.

Your lips crashed against his before you could stop yourself, hands gripping his waist as he melted against you with a soft, pleased whimper. Wonyoung wasn’t passive—no, he kissed back with a hunger that had clearly been building for far too long. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper, until your breaths were mingling into one.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” you muttered against his lips, your hands wandering down, gripping the soft curve of his hips.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into your touch, his nails digging into your shoulders. “Then do something about it,” he challenged, voice breathy, teasing. “Or are you just going to keep holding back?”

Your patience snapped completely.

You lift Wonyoung onto the table, sending books and papers scattering to the floor as your lips crash against his. His hands wander boldly, fingers trailing down until they press against the growing bulge in your pants. He palms you through the fabric, teasing, stroking—his touch featherlight but enough to make you shudder.

A soft moan slips from your lips, and Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk, eyes dark with mischief. "So sensitive," he murmurs, his fingers applying a bit more pressure. "Have you been holding back this whole time?"

You grit your teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the way he’s looking at you—smug and knowing—makes it impossible. "Wonyoung, you’re playing a dangerous game."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Then why don’t you punish me for it, senpai?"

You fumble with your belt, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room as you shove your pants down in a rush. Wonyoung is already on his knees before you can even step out of them, eager hands tugging the fabric away. The moment you’re free, your cock bounces up, smacking against his cheek.

He blinks, momentarily stunned, before tilting his head with a playful grin. "Wow… you were really holding back, huh?"

Your breath is uneven as you watch him, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he licks his lips. "Wonyoung—"

He giggles, wrapping his fingers around you, stroking teasingly slow. "Don’t be shy, senpai. Let me take care of you."

Wonyoung bobs his head up and down, his warm mouth enveloping you as he takes his time, savoring every inch. The slick heat of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, and a deep moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.

"Fuck… you’re so good at this," you murmur, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

Hearing your praise, Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. He sticks out his tongue and lightly slaps the tip of your cock against it, teasing you with slow, deliberate taps.

"Hmm?" he hums, gaze locked onto yours. "You like that, senpai?"

You tighten your grip on his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you slowly push him down onto your length. Wonyoung gags, his throat tightening around you as a lewd, wet sound fills the room. His nails dig into your thighs, but he doesn’t pull away—if anything, he relaxes, letting you take control.

Saliva drips down from the corners of his mouth, trailing down his chin in messy strands, and his once-perfect makeup begins to smudge. His mascara streaks slightly under his dazed, glassy eyes, making him look even more intoxicating.

"That’s it," you murmur, voice low and breathless. "Taking it so well, Wonyoung."

Wonyoung grabs hold of your legs, his mouth still working you, taking you deeper with every move. Soft moans slip from your lips, each one louder and more desperate as he works you with precision. The feeling of his warmth and wetness has you losing control, and soon, you find yourself cursing under your breath at how perfect he’s making you feel.

After a moment, you pull him off, your chest heaving as you spin him around. He lands on his back, body arching against the table, his breathing ragged as he looks up at you, eyes wide with anticipation. You hover above him, gaze intense as you ask, “Are you ready for me?”

Wonyoung doesn’t need any more encouragement. “Please,” he breathes, voice thick with want. “I need you, senpai.”

Without hesitation, you push your cock inside him, the tight warmth almost overwhelming. A low groan escapes you as you grip his hair, pulling him closer. Your pace becomes rougher, faster, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment.

As I keep moving at my own pace, my hand wraps around his cock, beginning to stroke slowly. The sound he makes—a loud, desperate moan—slips from his lips. He gasps, his voice trembling, 'Please... don't stop... I need you.' His words break through the quiet, a desperate plea that makes everything feel even more intense.

Wonyoung glances back at me, his eyes pleading. His breath quickens as he nears his climax, and he whispers, 'Please... kiss me.' Without hesitation, I lean in, our lips meeting in a desperate kiss while my movements don’t slow. My other hand moves to stroke him in time with every push, and the heat between us builds to an unbearable intensity.

Within minutes, Wonyoung's release becomes inevitable, his body trembling as he lets go. A sharp, breathless moan escapes him, and I watch as it spills out of him. Without missing a beat, I reach down, gathering some of it in my hand, tasting him. His eyes flutter shut, a soft whimper escaping his lips. 'You... taste so good,' I murmur, my pace never faltering as I continue inside him, each movement drawing another moan from him. 'Don't stop,' he whispers, his voice barely more than a gasp.

You could feel it building, that sweet, inevitable release, so you gently told Wonyoung to kneel for you, the tension in the air thickening. As I stroked my length in front of his face, Wonyoung's voice was soft but laced with teasing, 'I know you're close... I can feel it.' He looked up at me with a mischievous smile, 'Go ahead, let go for me. You know you want to.' Her words were like a command, the way he said them speeding up my release. 'You like when I watch, don’t you? Can’t hold back any longer, can you?

‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my breath catching as Wonyoung continued to drive me crazy with his words. His lips were soft, biting gently, teasingly against my skin, and his eyes—those damn eyes—were locked on mine, full of desire and need. He licked his lips slowly, his voice a whisper, 'You’re so close... don’t fight it.' The way he said it, so sweet and demanding at the same time, sent shivers down my spine. ‘Let go for me,’ he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. 'I want to see it, want to feel it.' Each word he spoke, his gaze never leaving mine, made it harder to keep control. His hands were on me, his touch light, but enough to push me to the edge, his eyes begging for my release like he already knew it was inevitable.

My release came in waves, splattering all over Wonyoung’s gorgeous face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as some of it dripped down his perfect skin—slowly making its way to his hair, his cheeks, his lips. A few drops even slid down his chest, glistening against his soft skin. He didn’t hesitate. His eyes, full of hunger, flickered up to mine as he licked his lips, savoring the remnants that lingered there. His fingers traced the droplets on his face before he brought them to his mouth. With a soft, almost teasing smile, he whispered, 'You taste even better than I imagined.' The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t look away from him, consumed by the way he made everything feel so intensely real, so intoxicating.

The rain had calmed by the time the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, the soft scent of him and the lingering warmth between your bodies mixing with the air. Wonyoung rested his head against your chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin, the rhythm almost soothing as the storm outside faded into a distant hum.

“So,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Does this mean I finally pass tutoring?”

You chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair, feeling his body relax under your touch. “No. You still failed your last quiz.”

Wonyoung pouted dramatically, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t bothered in the least. “Guess that means more private lessons then, huh?”

You sighed, already knowing you were doomed. “Yeah… more lessons.”

But before you could get comfortable in your exhausted state, Wonyoung lifted his head, his eyes dark with an insistent hunger. “Well, if I’m getting more lessons, why don’t we make it... a little more interesting?” He slid a hand down your chest, his fingers brushing over the lines of your abs with a teasing touch. “I think I’m still hungry for a second round.”

Your heart skipped at the words, a surge of desire flooding through you, but before you could respond, Wonyoung’s lips were on yours again—slow, teasing, coaxing you into something far less innocent than you’d originally planned. The kiss deepened, a hungry heat igniting between you two as he ground his hips against yours, reminding you just how much he craved you.

This time, studying was the last thing on your mind.

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀FRESH LOVIN' w/ CHRIS.

NOTES .ᐣ ana writing chris ????? its a literal miracle..... yeah hes been lookin a little too good lately... also ive been thinking of this for weeks now so uhh yeah !

WARNINGS .ᐣ p in v. uhhh dirty talk. afab!reader. no protection 🙀. im not great at writing chris i dont think... better at writin matt but i tried.

IT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN AS AROUSING AS IT WAS to see you wearing his merch. chris gives you the pieces you like for free anyway, you're his girlfriend—half of the time you help with the designing process anyway. so he's used to seeing you in.. well, his brand. the sight of 'fresh love' written across your chest is nice, he likes it a lot, but he's used to seeing it when you're with him. you'd told him plenty of times that the hoodies and shirts are super comfortable, so you wore them often.

so that is exactly why he was so confused as to why the sight of you modelling his merch made his dick as hard as it did. it wasn't.. that different. was it? he doesn't get it. maybe it's the professionalism of the photos, or just how official it all is. that's his girlfriend wearing his brand. no one else's—just his. a funny feeling fizzes in his abdomen, a warm feeling flooding his chest. both of those things at the instance he sees your pretty body wearing something he created.

his baby wearing his baby—that kind of thing. its corny, sure, but still. it made his head all murky and fuzzy, and his jeans tighten around him so uncomfortably it was impossible to ignore it. being at the photoshoot was a fucking nightmare, let alone seeing the photos all over instagram. people loved the photos, of course they did, you looked really good in them, and yeah, he loved them a lot too. which was why it was agony going on any social to find the exact thing that gives him a raging hard-on.

it was merely a coincidence that you'd walked in wearing merely a fresh love shirt and not much else. he lets out a low groan at the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip for a moment with his eyes raking up and down your figure. matt and nick weren't in, the entire reason you were wearing so little, so.. it wouldn't be completely wrong of him to have you bent over the couch due to your little get up, right? he's hoping so, since that's the only thing clouding his brain right now.

"actin' like you're not just as bad as me," he mutters, scoffing in return as you'd done previously. "actin' like your panties ain't soaked."

"you're starin'," he glances up at your words, his blue eyes wide and surprised for a moment before a smirk flits at his plush lips. yeah, of course he's staring. your nipples are hard beneath the cotton of the shirt, poking out a little and drawing his attention directly to them. soon, his eyes drop down to the curve of your ass beneath your underwear. slowly, he slides his hand down to adjust himself over his sweats with a quiet grunt.

"can you blame a guy?" chris murmurs, biting his tongue for a minute before he looks you up and down. "bein' such a fuckin' tease walkin' 'round like that," you scoff at his words, a soft smile playing on your own lips. a tilt of your head, and you're looking him up and down too. he looks good, he always does, but he does look really good. folding your arms beneath your chest, you lean against the kitchen island. "we both know you're soaked, baby." his words are practically a growl.

"you ain't got any proof," you grumble, feeling a surge of heat pool between your legs despite your own words. he wasn't wrong, you know, and he knows that too. all you wanted was to make something to eat, albeit wearing the least amount of clothing possible, but sure.

his smirk widens, "no? do you want me to check?" he knows you're wet, he can see it. from the way your thighs press together and how you're a little stiff whilst wandering around. all tell tale signs that you're just as horny as he is. "you're drippin', baby. don't even try to pretend with me," chris is quiet for a moment, before he pushes up off of the couch slowly. his eyes rake over your frame, and it only makes you feel more flustered in a way.

"don't gotta check 'cause i ain't wet," you mumble immediately, your skin warming up. you're lying through your teeth right now, and chris knows it. he knows you better than literally anyone, even if you don't want to admit it. trying to focus your mind on anything other than well, that, you turn away to open up the fridge and get something to eat. chris is making his way over, eventually standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

chris chuckles quietly, a low and rich sound. wandering a little closer to you, he stops right behind you with a click of his tongue. you shiver almost immediately when his hand slides over your side, skimming towards the swell of your chest. "liar," he murmurs, letting his nose trail along the skin of your neck lazily as he draws you a little closer to him. "you're always drenched for me, just as much of a mess as i am."

your eyes flutter over to him for a second before you swallow hard, "ain't a liar," you insist, head tilting to the side a little bit at the feel of his head by the crook of your neck. but back to the food, you tried to will yourself, as you bent over to grab a cutting board from a lower drawer. "yeah, can feel you pokin' my thigh with that ragin' hard-on of yours." chris scoffs at that, corners of his lips flitting up at the corners in a lazy smirk.

"s'not exactly a trade secret, is it?" chris mumbles with soft amusement, leaving gentle, warm kisses over the skin of your neck. his hands roaming gently over you doesn't stop him from pulling you back into him. he presses up against you as you're bent over, slowly rocking his hips up against you with a small, strained noise escaping him.

"you feel what you do to me, princess?" was pretty hard not to.

a soft gasp followed by a soft moan escapes you, "chris—" and you grasp at the drawer to keep yourself steady. a shaky breath slips past your lips and you feel it soon hitch in your throat. "don't," in the kitchen? matt and nick could walk in at any moment, you knew, but chris seemed like he didn't care at all, actually.

"don't what, baby?" he coos, taking a breath as he slowly alides his hands down to your hips. at the same time, his own hips grind enticingly into your ass, his aching erection pushing up against you. he needed you so bad. there, in the middle of the kitchen, he shamelessly grinds up against you. "don't what? don't touch you, don't make you feel good, don't love you?"

you let out this pretty moan, folding your arms beneath you to lean up against the counter. "no, no, no—mmh," you wanted him to keep going, you knew he'd make you feel good, he always did. made it his mission, actually. chris grind at your words, head tilting to the side a little bit now. "keep goin', please," well, you don't have to ask him twice, he'd do anything you asked of him.

"mhm.." chris hums quietly, considering whether he should take off the shirt so he can get his hands all over you before he decides not to. the shirt's the appeal, seeing you wearing something he made. fucking you in something he made. "keepin' this on," he adds, letting you know what was going on in his head.

as much as he'd usually keep you waiting, he was far too pent up to do so now. he lets go of your hips momentarily, his free hand moving to his sweats already hanging low on his hips to push them down a little bit to free his cock. a groan escapes him at being exposed, and he shuts his eyes for a minute when he wraps his hand around at the base and gives himself a languid stroke. he could get off right here at the sight of your ass clad in pretty panties pushed up against him like that, but the warmth of your cunt was a safety he couldn't deny.

"probably soaked all the way through these panties of yours, huh?" at the sound you let out, he smiles a little more, his hand slipping inside your panties almost immediately to test his theory. his fingers slowly start to brush against your clit, feeling how slick you are from just his words alone. "told you," you're sopping wet, and he loves it. his head tilts to the side a little, and he applies a little more pressure before gliding his fingers through your slick folds. biting his bottom lip at your sounds, he groans.

"chris, shit," you mewl softly, hips slowly bucking up towards his fingers as he pushed them up against you. he lets his thumb brush against your entrance, gliding over it easily before he glances back over at you. "that's it, let me feel you," for a few long moments, he makes tight circles over your bundle of nerves before his impatience gets the best of him. "feels so good—"

"i know, mmh, gotta feel you, baby," he tells you, tugging down your panties in a swift movement. you gasp quietly at the cold air hitting against your warm folds, and secondly at the feel of his cock pushing against your entrance. he's gentle, always is, his free hand moving to hold you steady at your hip. "you alright?"

you swallow hard, trying to figure out a way to say it without sounding desperate as all hell. "uh, yeah, yeah," you nod, shifting your hips back against him to feel him properly. a laugh escapes chris, and he hums, slowly easing himself inside you with a little buck of his hips. his hand moves to join his other one at your hips and he groans gutterly, eyes squeezing shut. "so fuckin' tight, baby."

"holy shit," you're clenching on him like a damn vice already, a moan escaping you as well in a similar fashion to chris'. he takes his time with it, lifting his hand from your hip to place it on the kitchen counter and grasp at it to keep him steady. he soon enough buries inside you to the hilt, hands roaming over your hips and ass, occasionally squeezing as he looks you up and down.

"such a dirty little thing, aren't you?" slowly, he shifts his hips back so just his throbbing tip is inside you, before he snaps his hips forward again so he's back to where he was moments prior. the sounds you let out practically have him coming right there, but he's got enough restraint to hold on for maybe a few minutes more. "lettin' me fuck you in the kitchen against the counter, knowin' anyone could walk in."

his words barely register to you with how he thrusts in and out of you, practically molding your insides to fit him, taking him so good like you do every damn time. "chris, mmh—! feels so.. ah, shit—!" your tits bounce beneath the fresh love shirt, drawing his eyes there almost immediately. he moves his free hand to cup your chest, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples and pinching momentarily.

"can't even think straight, can you? too busy thinkin' 'bout my cock, mmh.. i know it feels good, baby, feels right," chris keeps up the pace of his thrusts, practically pounding you up against the counter. "feels so, fuckin', good," he punctuates each of his words with a sharp buck of his hips, but making sure that you didn't hurt yourself in any way and holding you up.

"can't.. think straight," you agree breathily, practically panting with every push of his hips and feel of your pussy tightening around him. you shut your eyes, lashes fluttering as you practically squeal around him. "can't think straight, that's right. just focused on makin' a mess on my cock," and making a mess you were, feeling that burst of pleasure as he brought you over the edge.

soon, he got there too, the movements of his hips stuttering as he let out out a low sound, finally coming to a stop once he'd stuffed you full of his cum. "did so good for me," he murmurs. eyes darting up to yours when he managed to coax your eyes open with his hand. "did perfect.."

"yeah?" you ask, voice all airy and breathless. you feel so warm and fuzzy, a bliss washing over you. with a soft sound, you relax against the counter with his help and the feel of him easing out of you. his eyes dart down to his release leaking out of your hole, and he hums quietly, letting his hand trail back down and circle his thumb around the mess he'd made for a moment.

"and i thought you were hungry, baby."

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling ִ ꒱

[chaussetteblanche]

AHH i lived ur luke one do u think u can do another maybe like an enemies to lovers trope (sorry im a sucker for enemies to lovers)☺️

hi babe !! thanks for requesting ! don't apologise we're all on our knees and begging for enemies to lovers <3

I hate you

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : you and luke have been mortal enemies for months, will things change because of a quest? word count: 2.3k warnings : swear words, description of a wound

Luke had hated you since your first day at camp. To this day, you had no idea why. But after months of letting snark comments and aggressive capture the flags slide, you’d decided you had had enough. That had been the moment you'd officially become enemies. 

When he'd jeer at you, you'd bite back with even more venom. If you made him drop his sword at capture the flag, he’d come after you with his bare hands. When one hit, the other hit back harder. It was constant war. 

The rest of camp never understood this hatred you both harboured for one another. Singularly, you were both kind, generous and intelligent people. The kind of people you’d expect to get along fine and even become good friends. But no, it was always one thing after the next. 

So imagine your horror when a relatively new camper was chosen for a quest and found nothing better to do than pick you and your mortal enemy to accompany him. It was your worst nightmare come true. You froze when both your names resounded in the agora. 

You choked, coughed and held back from spluttering, refusing to embarrass yourself. You smoothed down your camp shirt and nodded. You did not look at Luke, even though you could feel his heated glower on your skin. He would probably find a way to blame you for this. Chiron looked between you and Luke with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. You could almost hear what he was thinking. Nonetheless, he abided. 

Walking back to your cabin to prepare your things, you could hear the word actively spreading behind you.  "Did you hear that-" "Yeah, he’s chosen Luke and-" "They’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other." Rolling your eyes, you shut yourself in your cabin and leaned back on the closed door. You dug the heels of your hands into your eyes, groaning. This was going to be nightmare.

And it really was. By hour 12 of the quest, you’d managed to get yourself thrown out of a train, fought off two harpies and had lost Luke.  "Where the hell did he go?" you asked loudly as you and Alan, the young camper, walked in direction of your next task. "He couldn’t have just disappeared!" "I don’t know, maybe he’ll join us later on." Alan shrugged. You frowned.  "Do you know anything about this?" You slowly turned to to him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, I-" "I’d suggest you think twice before lying to me, Alan," you growled. Alan sighed. "Yes, he told me he wanted to see how badly you did on your own so he could report it to camp." "Right." Of course. Of course he would find a way to make the dangerous quest even harder than it needed to be. You inhaled deeply, trying to remind yourself not to take your anger out on this thirteen year-old child. Your blood boiling, you turned back around and continued to walk. If Luke wanted to stay behind, that was fine with you. Better that than have him be in your way. 

"Oi!" Called a voice about an hour later. Ugh, Luke. You ignored him, keeping a steady pace. He called your name again. You didn’t react until his hand came down on your shoulder.  Before he could say another word, you spun around and pushed him up against the nearest tree, your forearm pressing down on the column of his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are," you snarled, close to his face, "to leave Alan and I alone? The quest comes before everything! It comes before your hatred for me and your stupid pettiness! So pull yourself together and stop fucking around! » You shoved yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. He looked at you darkly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. "Yell at me again, princess, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream," he warned in a low voice. You scoffed, ripping your wrist out of his grip.  "Shut up and start walking, Castellan."

The quest went smoothly -as smoothly as it could go considering the tension between Luke and you- after that. You found that the three of you made a pretty good team. Everything was going fine and you had been on your way back to camp when you crossed a griffin. You pushed Alan behind you immediately, taking out your sword at the same time Luke did. "Distract him, I'll go around the side!" Luke ordered, running off. Despite not wanting to follow his orders, you set your jaw and instructed Alan to hide. You twisted your ring, a gift from your mother which turned into a shield when twisted the right way, and waited for the shield to form before banging your sword against it.

"Over here, you stinking pile of feathers! Or should I say fur?" You yelled as you ran backwards, away from Alan. You continued banging your sword against your shield and watched as Luke charged forward from the griffin's unguarded side. The beast shrieked as it was struck and batted Luke away with its large wing. Luke flew to the side with an 'oomph' sound. Despite your despise for him, you felt surprisingly concerned.

You darted forward as the griffin raised one of its clawed feet, ready to strike down Luke, who was slowly getting to his feet. The loud clang of claws meeting the metal of your shield made him look up quickly. You were straining underneath the power of the monster, pushing back against your shield with all of your strength. "Fucking. Move." You managed to speak through clenched teeth. Luke finally snapped out of his daze and bolted to the side. You readied yourself before jumping to the side, out of the griffin's reach -or so you thought. He swapped at you with his other clawed foot and despite you trying to run out of the way, managed to cut a gash in your side. You cried out. You heard Luke and Alan scream your name, but they felt far away.

You spun around, livid, and cut off the beast's hand as it came down towards you once more. Luke took his chance and stabbed the monster in the chest. The three of you watched as the creature turned to dust. You fell to your knees. Luke was next to you in a second, breathing heavily. He laid you down in the grass, muttering to himself. "Show me," he ordered, lifting your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You squirmed both from the strange feeling of having his eyes on your revealed body and from the stinging pain of the cut. "Gods- how bad it is?" you asked. The sound of Alan vomiting was indication enough. Luke bit his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "It's fixable. You just need ambrosia and a healer." "Really?" You hated the way your voice sounded so weak. Luke nodded strongly. "Trust me." And for some reason, you found that you did. He stood up and sheathed his sword before gesturing for Alan to take your bag.

"Can you walk?" he asked, though it sounded like more of a formality than a real question. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and groaned in pain. You shook your head, hating the fact that you had to rely on him of all people for help. "Okay, then." Luke bent forward, going to pick you up. "Wait." He stopped immediately. His eyes snapped up to your face, which had gone frighteningly white. You were staring at the gash across your stomach. It went from the top of ribs to the side of your belly button. And it did not look good. The cut was jagged and blood poured out all over your clothes. Luke watched, helpless, as your fingers reached out to touch the cut. You hissed in pain before looking up into his eyes.

"I'm going to die." Your voice shook dangerously. He hated the way your eyes watered and the way you looked so scared. He'd never seen you look that way before and he wanted to wipe the sight from his memory. You did not have a face that was meant to look frightened. You had a face which was meant for pride and victory. "Look at me." He grabbed your chin and kneeled next to you. "You are not going to die." He pulled a spare T-shirt out of his bag, balled it up and pressed down on your wound with it. "I know, it hurts," he cooed as you whimpered with pain. "Hold it here."

Ignoring your groans of pain, he pulled you into his arms and stood up. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you did all you could to keep pressing down on your wound with his T-shirt. You heard him bark out orders to Alan in the distance. "Luke," you spoke softly as black dots danced in your vision. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes, princess. Keep looking at me." "I don't wanna die," you whispered before passing out. Luke clenched his jaw as he sped up the pace, ordering Alan to keep up with him. "Idiot. You're not gonna die. I won't let you."

You awoke to a soft yellow light surrounding you. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked around to find yourself in the camp infirmary. Luke was on a chair beside your bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Hey." "Hi," you croaked, trying to sit up. Wobbly, you managed to sit somewhat straight against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" Luke asked, looking over your face. He was relieved it to find it less white that it had been two days before. "Like shit, really." You let out a hoarse chuckle. He laughed shortly, looking down at his hands. You were surprised to find it was a really nice sound. That had been the first time you'd ever heard him laugh, and it felt really good to be the cause of it. "How long have I been out?" "Two days and a half." You were quiet for a moment as you thought back to the last things you remembered. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life, Castellan."

Luke let out something close to a scoff and leaned back in his chair. "You saved mine first. Thank you." "Well, yeah." You coughed. "I couldn't just let you die like-" "I don't hate you, you know," he interrupted you. You stopped talking. "Not really."

"What do you mean you don't hate me? Of course you do. You can't stand me. You think everything I do is stupid and bound to failure." "No, I- I don't hate you. I'm envious of you. Of what you have." "Of what I have? I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now, Caste-" "Of your mom. Mostly."

Your lips made an 'O' shape as you understood. Suddenly, everything made sense. That was why he'd disliked you from the start. You had the one thing he never would. Your mother was a minor goddess and did not have many children. This permitted her to be frequently in contact with you and therefore play the role of a present mother. Your father always kept in touch with you. You knew that with each of them you would always have someone to turn to. Unlike Luke.

"Mostly?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm envious of how whenever you walk into a room, it immediately lights up. Of how everyone likes you. Of how you always look good, even if you've just been torn to pieces by a griffin. Of how you always seem to see the good in people, except for me, I guess. Of how you get along with everyone except for me." Luke didn't meet your eye as he spoke. "Maybe if you hadn't been such an ass when we first met, we'd have gotten along fine. And I do see the good in you, I just like to ignore it for my own benefit." Luke's eyes shot up to yours.

"What do you mean 'your own benefit'?" "Well, if I didn't ignore the way you're so kind to the new kids, the way you're so protective of your friends and Annabeth, the way you stand up for what you think is right, the way your eyes look when they catch the light just right and the way your laugh seems to draw everybody in, then maybe... Maybe I wouldn't dislike you at all. Quite the contrary, actually." You could feel your heart hammering inside your chest as you spoke. The way Luke was staring into your soul was not helping either.

"Say something, Luke," you pleaded. His first name felt soft and foreign on your tongue. You had never said it before.

Luke did not answer. Wordlessly, he stood up and was by your side in two steps. He cupped your cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. Your heart raced and when he pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and smiled before kissing you properly. Eruptions exploded in your stomach as you kissed him back. You pulled him closer by the shirt as his warm lips pressed against yours. Finally, you couldn't help but think. All those feelings you'd ignored and pushed to the back of your mind finally broke free and you almost cried from relief.

His free hand found the back of your neck and you shivered as his fingers caressed the skin there. You leaned into his touch and cupped his jaw before slowly sliding a hand into his hair. He let out a soft moan but before you could get too into it, a cough resounded throughout the room.

"I'm glad to see that you and Luke have managed to work through your differences, Y/N." Chiron spoke, amusement dripping from his words, as he trudged into the room. "Now tell me about your quest."

[hwalovs]

Days and Nights (M)

Pairing; Mike Schmidt x reader Word count; 2635 Warnings; this is pure smut, maybe a little plot. Kissing, whining, dom/sub themes, unprotected sex (wrap it you freaks), they get right to it, breeding kink? kind of?, they'reliterallyinloveshutupbro

Description; Being the day shift guard has its perks, you get to leave at midnight, you get to leave for lunch while all the fast food restaurants were still open, and you get to see the cute night shift guard before you leave.

A/N; i am feral for this man, I don't know what happened. one day i watched the movie, the next im frothing at the mouth for another white boy. this is so short i might write something longer for him.

after finding my fic reposted on wattpad, I'm going to make clear; DO NOT REPOST THIS WITHOUT ASKING OR WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT.

I will only let this pass once, as for my other fics, DO NOT REPOST THEM.

THIS IS NOT EDITED

Mike was hired two months before you, first seeing you before he started his nightly shift at the pizzeria. You were standing outside, reading through a book before looking up when you heard his car door shut. You smiled, and dropped your book back into your bag before walking over. Your car was parked further away from his, but you went out of your way to walk up to him. 

From then on, you two were friends, always seeing each other after your shift and before his. You always made sure his badge was straight, and he always made sure to tell you to get home safe. Sometimes you both would stop to ask each other about your days, he talked about his sister, and you talked about your cats. 

One day, he got there a little early, wanting to get in and use his time to sleep, to try and find more clues about what happened to his brother. He found you asleep at the security desk. Snoring softly, the monitors flickering in and out. He smiled, setting his stuff down besides yours before walking closer, bending down so he could see you more clearly. One of your cheeks was squished against your arm, your breathing even. 

“(Y/n),” he cooed, reaching up to move a piece of your hair. You stir, slowly opening your eyes before realizing who it was in front of you. Shooting up, you rub your eyes and stutter, looking at him, and then the clock.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep!”

He smiles, standing back up and leaning against the desk. He watched you rush around with tired eyes, collecting your stuff while rattling on how active the animatronics were. 

He found you like once or twice, but never regularly. Sometimes he would find a forgotten coffee cup, and he would smile before throwing it away. It was the little things about you that he was slowly picking up on. He remembered each one, and wanted to learn more about you. 

Mike knew he was in too deep when you were getting ready to leave one day, packing up the rest of your stuff and flashing him that dazzling smile you always did. It made him forget the Dream Theory book resting in his bag, or the pills that accompany it. He forgot for just a second why he was there so early, why he was itching to fall asleep at the desk in the first place. 

You stand from the chair, badge catching the light, and when you sigh and roll your neck, whimpering at the tight knot, he shivers. He shouldn't, he knows that, you're his coworker, someone who endures the same nightmare he did- but he couldn’t stop the thoughts of you underneath him, whimpering as he sunk deeper inside you, stopping when his hips were flush against-

“Mike!” 

Your voice felt like ice water, rattling him until he was back in reality. He shifts, hoping that his sweatshirt covers how hard he was. There was a small part of him, deep within his brain, that did hope you saw, that you’d offer to help him. 

“Yeah?” He clears his throat, swallowing when his mouth waters. Smiling, you tilt your head, and he feels his stomach drop. 

“Did you hear me?”

He curses himself, “yeah! Yeah.”

Your eyes narrow, “what did I say, then?”

You were teasing him. You had to be, you were smiling again, and as you walked closer, he tried to rack his brain, trying to remember what you were saying. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Your voice is quiet, and you’re right in front of him. He can smell your perfume, can see the shine of your chapstick that's on your lips. 

“I- uh-”

“You’re so cute,” you chuckle, and it throws him off balance. He almost falls from the whiplash you’ve given him. You usually don’t stop to talk to him like this, you usually pack up and bid your goodbyes, warning him on the animatronics movement- but with how close you were, that he could smell your perfume, he realized he didn’t care. You were here, in front of him, calling him cute.

“What?”

You lean in close this time, your breath tickling his ear. 

“You heard me, Mike. Or are you lost in your thoughts again?”

Your lips press against his and it's the only thing he can think about. Your lips taste like strawberries, and your mouth tastes exactly like he thought it would. Your hands are in his hair, and his are gripping your waist tightly. 

He wonders when he’ll wake up, if this is a dream. When you lightly bite his lip, he moans, and comes to the conclusion that you’re real, and you’re kissing him. 

Pushing you both from the doorway, he backs you up to the desk. Kicking the chair away, he blindly reaches behind you to push away the small controllers that litter the top. He hears something crash onto the floor, but pays it no mind when you're sucking on his tongue. 

His hands reach under your thighs, lifting you onto the desk, and your hands fumble at his belt, the fog that settled on his mind clears for a moment, and he pulls away.

“Here?”

You furrow your eyebrows, before smirking and leaning forwards, “you don’t want it?”

“I do- I really do-”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He tries to think, but can’t when it's only youyouyou on his mind. Flooding his senses, invading his thoughts and making him feel crazy ever since the day he met you. His jeans are tight, and he can feel the precum that's pooling in his underwear. 

“Fuck,” he surges to kiss you again, reaching down to unbutton your jeans. He slides his hands into the waistband, and you use the edge of the desk to push yourself up, letting him yank the jeans off in one fluid motion, your panties going with it. 

The desk was cold on your skin, but you didn’t care when Mike lifted his shirt, biting into the fabric and pushing his pants down far enough to free his cock.

In any other situation, Mike would have you in his bed, pillow under your hips while he eats you out for hours on end. He knew you would taste amazing, just like he knew your mouth would taste amazing. You were perfect to him, and that's the only thing on his mind when he was pressing into you. 

Mike's cock was thick, stretching you out perfectly, a slight burn following. You didn’t stop him, though, because his eyes were locked onto where his cock was slowly sinking into you, and his hands were shaking at the warmth you brought him. 

The monitors behind you continued to show the empty space of the Pizzaria, but it was at the back of both of your minds. Mike’s shirt was still caught between his teeth, his stomach smooth and perfect. He didn’t make a sound until his hips were flush against yours, and the whine he let out made you clench around him. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked up at you, pupils dilated, curly hair a mess. Reaching up, you pull the shirt from between his teeth, the fabric wet, and grab the back of his head to drag him into a kiss. His lips are hot against yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth desperately. He moans as he tastes you again, and you grab his hips, trying to pull him further. 

When you pull away, you suck onto his bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes, “look at you,” you coo, “you’re so pretty, baby.”

He whines, blushing as he grinds against you. Finally finding a slow rhythm of deep thrusts. It lets you feel all of him, and lets him feel all of you. He stretched you out so well, and it almost felt like you could feel him in your stomach. He was perfect. 

“You’re so warm,” he whimpers, forehead resting against yours. Pulling at your vest, you manage to throw it to the floor with his, the metal badge chiming against the linoleum. He seems to understand what you’re doing, reaching for the end of your t-shirt, pulling it up quickly. The office was cold, your nipples hardening underneath your bra. You grab at his shirt next, his arms raising so you’re able to throw the shirt to the floor. His hips falter, but he continues.

Mike begins to leave kisses down your neck, biting your bra strap to push it to the side, letting it fall down your arm. He grabs the top of your bra, yanking it down and groaning at the sight of your exposed chest. 

“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips before surging forwards, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue swirling the bud. Your head falls back against the top of the monitor, moaning loudly. 

Mike pulls away, a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to your nipple, but you lift your head to move closer, licking the spit from his lip to kiss him again. 

There was a heat slowly building in your gut, and you wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders, trying to make him go harder, to go faster, but he just looks at you with a smirk.

“What is it? Huh?” He asks, his breath heavy. You whine, nails scratching at his skin. 

“Mike-”

He tsks, “common, baby,” he coos, “talk to me.”

“Please- Mike please- harder, fuck me harder,” theres a heat in your cheeks, and you feel your eyes burn at the building coil in your gut. 

Yet, Mike only looks at you with a growing smile, “Harder? You want me to fuck you harder, baby? But why?” He whines, “You feel so good like this.”

“Oh my god,” you moan in frustration, hand reaching in between you both to reach your clit, but his hand grabs your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“What is it, baby?”

There's that teasing smirk again, and you can feel your eyes burn. Your orgasm was right there, yet he was slowing down, causing it to be pushed further away. 

“I wanna cum, please, Mike- Please make me cum,” a sob threatens to spill from your lips, but Mike shushes you, kissing you softly. His stubble tickles your cheeks as he lays kisses onto your skin. He bites onto your neck, moaning as you clench around him again, sucking until the skin is bright red. 

He grabs onto your hips, leaning back to look down at where he disappears into you, and begins thrusting harder, letting go of your wrist to allow you to grab onto his shoulders once more. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he licks the pad of his thumb before snaking it between your bodies, rubbing tight circles around your clit. 

Throwing your head back, you almost cry at the hot coil in your stomach threatening to snap, and you can feel the tears that roll down your cheeks. 

“Please- Please, make me cum- wanna cum so bad-” you begging, pleading, in jumbled words that Mike can barely make out. Your legs are locked around his waist, pulling him closer. 

When you cum, your thighs tense around his waist, almost stopping him. Your mouth drops open, and a soft whine falls from your lips. You're clenching so tight around him, Mike almost cums himself, but bends down to bite onto your shoulder to stop himself. He refuses to cum yet, he wants to keep making you feel good. To see you fall apart around him again. 

He leaves another kiss where he was biting down on you, pulling away to leave kisses across your cheeks, before finally stopping to kiss you once more. You're breathing heavily, thighs shaking from the intense orgasm. 

Sliding out of you, he whines softly, pulling you from the desk so you’re standing, he only smiles at your confused face, grabbing your neck softly to pull you into another kiss, tongue licking into your mouth.

“Turn around, baby,” he sighs, holding your hips as you do. The table digs into your hips as you bend down, breasts pressing flat against the cold surface, but he tsks, grabbing your neck once more to pull you back up. His thumb was below your jaw, pressing against your pulse point just enough to feel your heart race.

He uses his other hand to press onto your lower back, making you arch, then reaching down to grab his cock once more and slide through your folds. You were so wet, cum slowly beginning to drip down your thighs. In one smooth thrust, Mike presses his hips flush against your ass, his hand still lightly gripping your neck to keep you against his chest. 

“There you go,” he whimpers, pressing kisses along your shoulders. He starts to thrust again, and you have to bite your lip to stop from moaning loudly. 

He felt so much deeper like this, hitting the spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back. 

There was still a buzz from your orgasm, but it was quickly building into another. Your thighs were shaking, and your palms were flat on the desk, nails digging into the wood. 

“M’gonna cum again-” you moan, knees almost buckling as the rapidly building heat. Mike smiles from behind you, but moves his hand from your waist again, snaking it down once more to circle his fingers around your swollen clit. 

“Again? You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?”

“Oh my god- Mike-” You’re cumming before you even realize it. Head blank except for the thought of him-

His grip on your throat tightens just slightly, and you reach up to grab his wrist. His hips falter, breathy moans filling your ears as he presses your hips harder into the desk. You knew there would be bruising, but at the moment you didn’t care. You would let Mike do anything he wanted to you, as long as he kept making those heavenly noises for you. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good baby,” he slurs, “my pretty baby- you’re just perfect f’me- Perfect fuckin’ pussy too-” 

“Mike, please” you whimper, arching your back more for him. 

He hums, thrusting harder into you, “that's right baby-” he leans forwards to tilt your head, locking eyes with you, “say my name.”

“Mike-”

He groans, head rolling until your noses touch, “again, say it again baby- please-”

“Mike!-” 

“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” 

Your hand is wrapping around the grab onto him, nails dragging across his skin, “Inside me- please cum inside me- wanna feel you so bad-” 

Mike’s thrusts stop, grinding against you as he spills inside of you. Uttering your name under his breath like it's the only thing he’s ever known. 

You were everything he’s ever wanted. To have you clenching so tight around him, to be able to have you like this was like a dream to him. He never wanted to wake, he wanted to stay here with you forever, but as you both collected yourselves, his cum sliding down your thighs and dripping onto the floor, he knew better than that. He’s sitting in that uncomfortable chair again, watching as you slide your jeans on. You forgo your panties, reaching down to unzip his bag, smiling as you let them drop inside. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?”

You laugh, and it fills the room with a brightness he knew only you could bring. 

“I think we’re way past going on a date.”

“Then how about dinner? I make a mean Spaghetti and meatballs,” he smiles, and feels like his world is complete when you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’d love that.”

[jumbojazzcats93]

Why are you like this? - Ghost

Summary - Simon is devastated coming to terms with being in love.

Tags/Warnings - Banners by @/saradika-graphics 18+ MDNI, mild angst, emotional constipation, cussing, slight manipulation but it's really not the bad kind (.?), premature ejaculation, squirting, biting, mentions of blood @glossysoap @divine--serenity @lordlydragon @violet-phantoms @ivymarquis @grizzersmamma @quietlyignoringyou

It's taken Simon SO long to realize he's in love. The realization sets in after almost a year. He had forced it to remain casual, even if you both knew deep down it was so much more. Over the long expanse of several months he had ignored the tightening knot of your close-knit bond and deluded himself into thinking he was going to come out unscathed at some point. The fear that you liked him too much and the necessity to tell you so was pushed further and further back by his growing fear of hurting you. The "outings" you would have together were definitely NOT dates. You were just such a treat to be around. You brought him so much peace. Everything about you two just clicked so well that there was no way to deny the connection.

A platonic connection.

The fucking was.... just casual. Friends with benefits did exist. That's all it was. There's really no telling how or why it started. When even the kissing had started. There was nothing wrong with a little physical intimacy here and there. You made him feel good, the sex was sweet, but it didn't mean he was attached.

The moment he realized he was, however... it made him want to crawl out of his skin. That deep rooted fear of intimacy churning in his chest as he looked at you. Now he was looking at you in a new light and he could barely play it off for a few days before he started acting out, then avoiding you. He couldnt be near you without feeling deeply uncomfortable with himself.

And you knew, of course. You knew he needed to do things at his own pace, so you kept quiet and went along with this odd little arrangement he thought you had. You knew everything about him after all. He was just so slow to catch on to the fact that you already classified him as your boyfriend and that the acting was all so silly. Of course his discomfort and standoffish behavior was obvious to you. Just like how the answer was obvious to you. Like always, when he was tense or overthinking; he just needed to fuck it out.

So... after an hour of sitting through some random top pick netflix movie, you looked at him from across the couch and took him in. He was chewing on his lip with his eyes zoned out at the TV screen and your legs intertwined under the blanket. When your foot gently slid against his dick his eyes came to life and flew from the screen. You were already watching him with a lazy smirk and heavy eyes. "Y/n?", but you said nothing, sitting up to crawl across the couch. His hand reached out to meet you as you crawled on top of him and paused. Lips just a breath away to give him a moment, you murmer, "You look so troubled lately, Si." You place a gentle kiss against his lips, "Not even really watching the movie." Another kiss, "What's got you so distracted, hm?" He grunts as you kiss him again and his arms wrap around your waist, locking you against his body. Your fingers slide against his jaw and into his hair, massaging the nape of his neck as you softly kiss him over and over.

He hasn't given a real response and you know that without more coaxing, he won't. You know sweet talking always flusters him so you decide to really pour it on thick in between kisses. "All I wanna do is take care of you, Si." You sit up and slowly take your t-shirt off. "How can I do that when you won't talk to me?", you lament. "You try so hard to be the perfect soldier-" You lean back down and slide your hands under his shirt, "-the perfect man." A kiss, "You have no idea how much I want to take that weight off your shoulders when im with you." You trail off quietly and he grunts again, a single hand sliding down your back to grab your ass. You assume he kisses you in hopes of shutting you up, but he still isn't giving you what you want... So as you slide his shirt off over his head you lean back down and decide to say it.

"You have no idea how much I love you."

Tension floods Simon's body and he jerks back to look straight into your eyes. His own eyes look wide, but you're looking down at him with such love; it makes his throat feel dry and tight. Anxiety flares in his stomach and heat flashes through his body. His chest swells with an unfamiliar feeling as he seemingly comes to with a shaky inhale. Your fingers brush over his cheeks as you stare down at him; waiting. His heart is pounding. That nasty fear of intimacy rears it's ugly head in the form of panic and mixes with the adrenaline your confession brings. Simon feels his frustration at the entirety of it all as tears sting his eyes. He clenches his teeth as you try to move in and kiss him again.

Hands abruptly grab hold of the backs of your knees and pull as he sits up, flipping you up and backwards. Now carelessly tossed onto your back, Simon follows to hover over you, gripping your wrists to pin them down by your head. He must look as distraught as he feels. With pinched brows, disheveled hair and a red hot face, he feels on the verge of losing his mind entirely as he practically shouts, "What are you doing to me Y/n?! Why are you doing this?! Why are you like this?" The last part is said softer. Quieter. Filled with pure desperation and its almost like he wants to blame you, but he's begging for any kind of reprieve you can grant him from the uncomfortable mess of emotions he feels. Both of you softly pant against each other's mouths in silence before you quietly say, "Because I love you, Si..."

The sound of the TV fills the silence. He just stares at you while he breathes heavily. Slowly pressing his forehead against the side of your face, he shifts to the side, sinking into the cushions at the back of the couch. Your eyes follow him and you turn your body to face his. Tucking one arm between your bodies and resting your other arm over his thick torso, you press your forehead against his. Caressing his back you mutter, "You don't have to think about it too much, Si. Nothing has to change." His already shut eyes squeeze tightly; his breathing being wrangled back under control. You brush your lips over his. "Just let me take care of you.", you whisper.

He inhales sharply, holds and slowly releases his breath before reaching up and tangling his fingers into your hair. "Want me to say it again?", you whisper against his lips. A pause... and he nods hesitantly. You kiss him and breathe, "I love you.", into his mouth. He takes a shuddering breath and chokes out, "Again." "I love you." "Keep saying it." "I love you, Simon." His hand grabs the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip. "I love you." One arm slides under your waist and wraps around you, the other hand slides up your thigh and grabs your ass. "I love you." He grinds your pussy against his cock, separated by your underwear and his gym shorts. You moan and move along with him.

"More. Say it one more time." He squeezes you briefly. "Please.", he whispers. Your eyes open; you both continue to grind against each other. Your pussy is dripping and smearing against his buldge, staining his shorts. Directly meeting his starstruck gaze you say, "I love you, Simon.", just to watch his eyebrows furrow as he moans. His eyes never leave yours, but his hips jerk once, his stomach flexes and he cums in his shorts. You moan at the realization of it. He's never cum so quick; he's getting off on hearing it. His long fingers slide from your ass to your wet underwear. He pulls them aside and dips two fingers into your pussy, slowly pumping them in and out. The realization that his cock is still hard makes your hips twitch and sink further onto his fingers.

"Simon-", you gasp. "I've just-", his fingers pull from your pussy and arm adjusts to slot between your legs. He pushes his fingers back in to the knuckle with a curl and pulls them out all the way; repeating. He won't say anything, he only kisses and caresses you. "I've been so worried.", you whine into his mouth. Low eyes with a langourous gaze are all you get. Despite his clear desire to have your confession burned into his ears, his reluctance to loose his own is obvious. He just pulls his wet fingers out of your pussy and rubs your clit with them. You gasp, "I knew you were avoiding me." Your hand leaves his side to slide between your bodies and pull his shorts out of the way. "I won't let you leave me because you're a-", a moan cuts you off as he grabs his cock and slips the tip into you.

"-Afraid of-" "Shut up, Y/N." Its a warning. The way he thrusts into you fully to punctuate your name is unfair. His cock so warm and big, his belly is so soft against yours. Simon slides his hand up under your thigh again and holds it higher, thrusting his cock deeper the higher your leg gets. In between breathless moans you push back, "You're afraid to be in love-" "Stop it" "-because it always ends poorly-" "That's not-", his thrust buries him to the hilt in you. "-true." His jaw is clenched and his grip on you is tight, but his eyes look vulnerable. You grip the back of his neck and brush your lips over his, whispering, "-but if I was going to leave... I would've left half a year ago." Panting, his eyes flit between your own. Your sincerity must be clear because he let's go of your leg and grabs your face, kissing you roughly. Tongue licking into your mouth and breaths mixing, all you can do is moan while he shifts you onto your back and cages you under him.

As your legs squeeze and wrap around his hips he begins pounding into your pussy ruthlessly. His face presses against your cheek and his tongue laves over your neck and jaw. You turn and kiss him briefly before biting his lip with a whine that sounds as sweet as can be to him. Simon jerks back and sits up. Still thrusting, he grips your hips, his cock dragging against the walls of your cunt, his eyes focusing in on your face. You. Sprawled out on the couch, hair wild against the cushion with blood on your lips. Your tongue licks it up and you gasp a moan as his hips still and his hands hold you down flush on his cock. A dangerous and low chuckle leaves his mouth as he leans down and licks into your mouth, tasting his own blood. His hips begin grinding into yours, your clit rubbing perfectly against his pelvis.

"I'm gonna fucking cum... as deep as I can in your cute little pussy." He gives one sharp thrust and you moan. "You love me so much? Huh?" He's grinding his cock head right against your g-spot so you just nod breathlessly. "Yeah. You're such a sweet girl." He murmurs, smoothing his hand over your hair. "I love you so much-", he whispers pressing his lips to your forehead, "-it makes me sick." His hand trails down your body to your clit and with just a few brushes of his thumb your pussy is pulsing around his cock. Slick is dripping from you onto the couch and you whimper and moan with your head thrown to the side, pressed into the throw pillow.

A hand grabs your jaw gently, forcing you to look up into Simon's blown out, adoring eyes. His thrusts are prolonging your orgasm and all you can do is moan and shake while he traces a thumb along your lips. Your tongue lolls out and licks his thumb. You bite the tip of it as he presses it passed your lips. A grunted moan and a renewed flash of red along his skin are the only indicators before he buries his cock as deep as he can get and shoots his cum against your cervix. The grinding of his hips against your clit and his cock against your g-spot as he rides his orgasm out triggers a second wave of your own. It's so intense that your toes curl and you squirt down his cock with a loud moan.

Simon's hunched over your body panting. You close your eyes as he wetly kisses your lips and rests more of his weight on you. When you open your eyes and turn your gaze back to the TV, a pop up saying "Are you still watching? Yes/No" is taking up the TV screen.