#even if he's a bit... ah... excessive

[atrirose]

𝒥 : PLACES THEY LOVE TO KISS — enha

はい bf!enha x f!r . . . 🍵 warning. kissing duh ! + FLUFF ★ seiu msg: wanna get back on to writing stuff soon in the mean time enjoy this! rbs/feedbacks are appreciated

— HEESEUNG LEE

heeseung loves kissing your neck because he knows it gets you hot and bothered, he loves the sudden shocked squeak you let out when he random kisses your neck, he came behind you, gracing his cold lips on your neck “AH what’s wrong with you seung” you turned towards him, your hand on the place he kissed “my lips are cold, i ate ice cream” he said pulling you back “so?”

“so i gotta warm them up” he said as he bit ur neck lightly, kissing it, his breath leaving tingling feels down your spine, something about neck kisses just makes you feel light headed “i know you love it princess” he whispered, his hands roaming around your body as he blabbers like a loser.

— JAY PARK

jay loves kissing your lips, though it very common but for him it is special, he love the feeling of his lips against yours, especially after you put on lipgloss or lipstick “jayyyy i just put it on, look it’s all smeared and on your lips too” you said frustrated as you try to fix your lipstick, “it’s a nice colour i like it on you” he said snaking his hands again around your waist as he turns you around “doesn’t give you an excuse to ruin it, and we have to go or else we will be late to the party” you said resisting his touch as he leaned over again.

“doesn’t matter” he said as his lips moved against yours, his hands around you waist, him teasing your lips by lightly nipping on it, your hands in his hair tousling it.

“we got stuck in the traffic sorry” he said to his friend as you shot him glares, did i forget to tell you that he loves kissing you when you are mad at him? works like a charm, all the anger goes poof.

— JAKE SIM

jake loves to nom on your cheeks , he says it’s like bread. he loves to peck your cheeks at any given moment, or just have his face smooshed by yours, if he could he could live under your skin. jake likes to bite your cheeks while pecking them despite being warned a hundred times to not, but how can you resist his puppy eyes.

sometimes he get this kissing aggression towards you where he just keep on kissing and giggling as you try to escape him “jake too much” you say as he kissed you all over your face, “not enough” he said as he continues smooching your cheeks, biting them “nom, you taste like strawberries” jake hugs you as he calms down, cuddling you.

— SUNGHOON PARK

he loves collarbone kisses, loves to randomly feather kisses around your collarbone while cuddling, exact reason that despite being so tall he like you be a small spoon most of the times, likes to be a princess “hoon it tickles” you said as he pressed kisses, he loves when you wear off shoulder as he gives him easy excess but if not then he just pulls the piece of clothing you are wearing to expose your collarbone, now that has gotten him in trouble when he accidentally rip your clothing’s neckline but that obviously never stopped him.

“i will get you more mmm” he said as he kept kissing you, he loves to inhale the soft and mild scent of your perfume.

— SUNOO KIM

loves to kiss your forehead, to appreciate even the smallest of things you do for him, while that’s very sweet of him and you love it with all your heart, there are times when he likes to annoy you by kissing you after applying your lip tint so now you have kiss mark on your forehead, or kissing it and then telling how small you are.

towers over you sometimes so you look up at him and he can kiss your forehead.

“i got nice scores this time” you told sunoo as he smiles and kisses you forehead “im proud of you love”

— JUNGWON YANG

he likes to kiss your nose, just a little boop to make you laugh, you talking about your day? oh he is so in love, boop, you are cooking? he is drawn in by your beauty, boop, you are just laying around? you look so cute, he can’t believe you are his, boop.

“why do you like kissing my nose so much” he looks at you as he smiles, eyes closing like a cat as he kisses your nose “because you are cute” it’s a way he expresses his love, it’s his way of saying he treasures you and a simple expression of his limitless love for you

— RIKI NISHIMURA

he loves to bury his face in your neck after a long day and kiss your shoulders, just like sunghoon he loves when you wear off shoulder dress or else he just pulls on them, but lucky for him you wear his oversized hoodies all the time so it’s easy to gain excess, sometimes it’s hard to express who he feels, or how much he loves you so he just kisses your shoulder and hope you understand his attempt to say ‘i love you’s’.

“what’s wrong baby” you asked as you played with hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck “just tired” he said nuzzling “aww poor baby” you said as you kissed his head “you better not tell how act with you” he warned you still kissing your shoulders.

“like a baby? AHH-” your giggles turned into sudden shock as he bites you “oh that left a mark” you smacked him with a pillow as he laughed and dodged it “not tired anymore huh?” you said pouting moving away from him just to get pulled back to his lap “i am” he pecked you “meanie” he snicked at your pouty lips before kissing it.

[artytaeh]

THEODORE NOTT HAS A LOT OF MONEY. and even though that's a relief that indulges his own impulsive spendings to pamper himself, it still doesn't feel like he properly makes use of it.

the large bookshelf on his bedroom, at the nott mansion, might suggest otherwise.

( what? theodore enjoys special editions; no, it's not silly to want a first edition of one of his older favorites, or a hard cover version with a better illustration, really. much less having paid more for a book on his native language, given that he's in london, a bit too far away from the city he was born, millan. )

but then, ah— there it is! the reason why his family's ridiculous wealth makes sense, now!

because what theodore nott lacks in a few matters, such as communication or spending a lot of time with you, when he needs his time alone, he'll compensate like this.

one might perceive this as a heartless, uncaring way to press bandaids over emotional wounds; believe me, it couldn't be farther than this.

theodore just likes to see you smile, and given that his black card is a means to such an end, well, why not?

things are just things; but things do bring happiness, so yes, you can buy happy feelings!

theodore would love to know if you collect something— mugs? he's bringing a new one for you, now paying extra special attention to crockery themed stores. snowglobes? there's this one he found, with a charm to it! if there's a comic series you like, theodore would discreetly surprise you every week with a new volume.

only for you to go and break his heart, standing in front of his door with his gifts in arms, extending them for theodore to take it back.

cluelessly, and looking a bit like a kicked puppy, theodore frowns. are you angry at him? isn't this the type of thing you like? should you reassure him that your only issue is the excessive money spent on you, theodore feels like a weight left his shoulders.

huff; so, he does know how to please his girlfriend and what she likes!

... but why are you rejecting him? 'hey, bella, don't offend me— this isn't going to empty nott's vault any time soon.'

should his puppy eyes work, well then, you're doomed.

because theodore will use this same excuse over and over again, when he brings another thing that reminds him of you. what? you mentioned that you like coats like these! it's a color you like to wear, and you'll need warm clothes like that in a matter of weeks!

do you not like his gifts? theodore will give you a look that, if you didn't know better about his cynical shenanigans, you'd believe that his heart was being shattered to pieces.

that's the reason why dates at hogsmeade are so dangerous. i'm being serious— you might as well keep your eyes on the road, stare at the snow beneath your feet, because if you spend more than four seconds staring at something inside a shop...

there isn't time to process anything else; theodore's mind works fast. you saw it, you seem to like it, he's buying it. in a blink of an eye, theodore already has his card between his index and middle finger, nonchalantly making his way inside.

'can't a man spoil his girl? goddamn it, dolcezza.'

clothes are almost worse. if he sees something that you're staring at, and likes it, theodore is putting so much (discreet. not so discreet,) effort into convincing you to let him buy it for you.

'you'd look good in it. see, it's a color you like, it would look really good, given your skin tone.' and then, he takes a different approach: 'trying it on doesn't hurt, right?'

a cruel plan, you see, because then you fall in love with this dress, as much as theodore fell in love with the idea of you wearing such pretty clothes.

his arms embrace your waist, like a snake slowly trapping its victim; the fabric feels right under his skin, the dress looking as if it was sketched for you, fitting better than a glove.

theodore rests his chin on your shoulder, holding back a smirk as he sees you mourning the idea of leaving the dress here— it's just so pretty! and theodore's compliments don't help!

🗯️ : but teddy, it's really cold these days. i wouldn't be able to wear it, anyways.

t : and that's why we learned simple warming charms during third year.

🗯️ : sure, but— i don't have where to use it, so it's not worth it if it's just going to look pretty in my dresser.

t : no worries, bambina. i'll think about a perfect date for you to wear this, looking so pretty for me. bellissima, la mia bella ragazza.

NO USE IN ARGUING WITH HIM; theodore nott always wins these rounds. the battle is won, and the war is benefitting his side.

even if you do not let him spoil you with such impulsive thoughts and freedom, theodore would never, for the life of him, let you pay for a single coffee or meal while you're with him.

lunches at hogsmeade are a favorite of his. obviously, he's paying. this slytherin doesn't joke about the topic; will give you the biggest side eye if you take out your wallet.

who do you think he is? his mother raised a man that knows how to treat a girl right, and a good boyfriend! no way in hell is any soul at hogsmeade, scotland, europe— hell, galaxy!— considering that he's not taking care of his amata ragazza properly.

ALL IN ALL, THEODORE FINDS IT SWEET how much you worry over it, and insist that he could spend this same money on things that he likes.

but that's what you fail to understand— what theodore likes, more than a new book with a promising synopsis, or an exquisite astrolobe— is seeing you smile for something that he got you.

﹙★﹚ won't give you gifts to earn his forgiveness earlier, though. he wants his presents to feel like he genuinely thought you'd like it, not as a bargain or bribery.

anyways, i love this man. 🌷

[moon1833]

Knots- Shouta Aizawa

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“Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.”

Inc: Smut, bondage, inappropriate use of a capture weapon, sub-ish Aizawa, dom reader, begging, cowgirl

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Shouta had used his binding scarf on many people before. He’s used them on villains or criminals mostly, occasionally his unruly students. He’d even used them on you before, and as purely erotic as it was, nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

He’d never had them used on him before.

You hum contently above him, the curve of your breast slipping into his sight as his old t-shirt drops deeper down your shoulder when you peer down at him. His forearms flex behind his back and he swears he’s never been this hard in his life.

His back arches slightly off the headboard when you finally settle yourself in between his legs, your lower thigh just grazing his boner. His elbow presses into a tight knot, keeping him still as you climb over him.

Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.

“You okay?” You stroke his chin, letting his stubble drag under your thumb.

Shouta knows that you know this is the closest he’s been to heaven by the cocky smirk on your face, but he finds himself humoring you, anyway.

“Mhm, yes.” He whispers, subconsciously fluttering his eyes closed. You coo, readjusting your legs so you’re sitting on his lap.

“How long have you been wanting to try this?” He grunts, attempting to regain some of his composure.

“Since our spar.” You reply instantly, bringing your lips to his neck. “You remember, the one where I managed to use your own capture weapon against you.”

“That was a dirty move.” He can hardly get the words out, his hips stutter as you shift over him. You can’t tell if he’s talking about last week’s training session or how you sunk your teeth into a particular spot on his neck.

“Yeah?” You pull back, tilting your head. “You seemed to have liked it then, too.”

Uncharacteristically, Shouta flushes at the memory, recalling how quickly his dick hardened at being restricted by you, and how quickly he came when he ran off to go shower afterwards.

“So what?” He grumbles. You run your fingers through the hair around his nape. His breath hitches.

“Don’t be a brat.” Your lips brush his jaw. “It’s more enjoyable when you let go of that attitude.”

You tug on the knot behind him while your other hand fists his hair, and against his better judgement a whine sneaks through his clenched teeth. His dick practically jumps, and he can feel the precum leaking from his tip and making the fabric of his boxers stick to it.

You kiss him, grinding your hips down onto him as he groans into your mouth. Reflexively, he tries to pull you closer, but his hands are stopped by the restraining ties of his own weapon. He groans a little, and you rut against him forcefully, pushing more noises out of him.

Shouta is worried he might finish in his pants, and his concern is echoed on his face. His lips quiver with small moans of “Ah, fuck” and gasps of pleasure as you mark down his chest. You lick around his skin, letting it roll over your tongue and nourishing the taste.

You know he’s close. You’ve memorized his tell signs. From his screwed shut eyes and twitching nose, Shouta is about to finish. You peal off of him, amused at how he throws back his head in protest and his eyes shooting open.

You shove your panties off, making a bit of a show as you maintain eye contact with him, watching his chest heave.

Shouta lifts his hips slightly, encouraging you to help him push his boxers off, and you do, throwing them off to some corner of the room.

You place your knees on either side of him, hovering over him and sighing when his tip smacks against your clit unintentionally.

You don’t move, though, keeping your position and peering down on him.

“What?” He breathes.

“Come on.” You cross your arms, and his eyes watch your tits press against the thin material of your shirt. “Beg for it.”

His throat closes, his mouth parted in shock. When all he does is gape at you, you refuse to move.

“Shouta.” You warn. “I will finger fuck myself right here and leave you untouched.”

“Okay, fine.” He says quickly. “Shit, please.”

You give him a pointed look. “Keep going.”

“Fucking hell.” He seethes. “Please, just ride me already. I can’t take much more of this.”

You giggle, sliding down his dick until just the tip was in. An involuntary moan shivers out of you at the stretch, and Shouta’s face twitches in confidence.

In retort, you slam your hips down, forcing him all the way into you. He yelps in shock, and you dont give him much time before lifting up at repeating the action.

Your hole is burning, but it melts into pleasure the more your slick and his precum lubricates his dick. You continue to bounce up and down, little huffs of pleasure leaving you in between each stroke.

You lift your shirt over your head, fully displaying your chest as your body jiggles at the force of your thrusts. The smack of your bodies colliding is loud, but Shouta’s whimpers and string of curses are louder, and you use his shoulders to balance yourself.

Continuing your movements, you feel around the comforter for your underwear, grasping them in your palm. You tug on Shouta’s hair, and a sharp grunt leaves his mouth. You take the opportunity to shove your panties inside, watching his expression turn to a half-assed glare before switching into a burningly erotic submission.

“Aw, you gonna cum?” You jeer, even though you were fighting back your own orgasm.

Lost in a haze, Shouta nods vigorously. You keep your motions steady, fucking him through his climax as his hips jump to meet your pace. The harshness of it, along with the pretty sounds he was making forces your own orgasm, and your legs jerk as his cum leaks out of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you regain your breathing, combing out the small knots you formed by pulling his hair. You kiss his cheek as you reach behind him, pulling off of his dick completely to focus on untying the knot.

“Was that okay?” You ask, using your fingernails to loosen the garment.

All Shouta can mutter out is a small “Mhm”, instantly wrapping his arms around you when you finally pull the fabric through the headboard.

“So good.” He adds, his words soft as he lays down across the bed. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too.” You giggle, cuddle closer to him. He’s asleep before you can pull the covers over each other.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

I'm curious, how did wade and logan meet isekai gremlin reader? Did reader just fall from the sky and landed beside the two unharmed? We know wade breaks the fourth evrytime because his sentient and logan had seen worse sp if reader just straight up tells the two that they are from another universe the two would just😐👍okay. They woulb be ubothered by it

Wade and Logan first met you when they were having shawarma. It was a nice day, nothing could possibly go wrong until…

‘Ow fuck!’ You groaned as you got up from a seemingly never ending fall through the void, only to realised that you didn’t hurt as badly as you thought you did when you went to run your arm. ‘Don’t know why I said ow fuck when that didn’t actually hurt being with.’ You then murmur to yourself as you looked up to see the portal you fell from close assumably forever.

‘Did god kick you out of heaven little angel? Did you do something naughty? Blasphemous even?’ Wade asked, swallowing his last bit of shawarma, wiping himself down before he let Dogpool run your feet as you smiled down at the cutes dog you’ve ever seen. Some would say she’s ugly, the most ugliest dog they’ve ever met, but to you she’s perfect with her lopsided tongue and scruffy appearance.

‘He fucking wishes but no, I’m not an angel nor did I come from heaven.’ You told Wade as you picked up Dogpool, unbothered by the excessive licking to the face, you’d like to call it her showing you her unconditional love and affection.

‘Then where did you come from?’ Logan asked, completely unfazed by this and the dog licking your face excessively.

You shrug, not caring whether you sounded nuts for saying it. ‘Another dimension.’ You proclaimed.

Wade and Logan looked at each other before looking at you again.

‘Ah! Another overused and abused Isekai trope fanfic, like that’s surprising to anyone reading this.’ Wade then said to no one in particular.

‘The fuck is that supposed to mean scrotum face?’ You replied, holding Dogpool closer in your arms when you noticed that Wade was planing on taking her off your hands, no one was going to take this cute doggy from your hands, you’ve only met this cutie and you’d kill everyone before killing yourself if anything happened to her.

‘Look bub, Wade over here talks out of his ass, so it’s best not to take anything he says seriously.’ Logan answered for you as he got up from his seat groaning. He’s been alive for far too long to act surprised at anything at this point. A pig could sprout wings or suddenly talk and Logan wouldn’t find this out of the ordinary, that or he just was too tired and perpetually annoyed at everything to feel anything outside of that.

‘Now that our meet cute is over and done with, papa is going to need his little Mary Poppins back now.’ Wade reached out to grab Dogpool but you took a step back, still holding her close to your chest.

‘No.’ You told him. ‘She’s my Mary Poppins now.’

Wade gasps ‘are we entering our enemies to friends to lovers, 300k words, slow burn phase?’

You looked to Logan who only shrugs his shoulders. ‘I’ve got not a fucking clue what he just said just now.’ You then looked back to Wade and then little Dogpool, who was still licking your face, before deciding to bolt down the street. ‘YOU’ll never take me alive!’

You could hear Wade and Logan simultaneously cursing as they proceeded to follow after you, and at one point you could’ve sworn you heard Wade yell, ‘MY BABY! PAPA AND PAPA ARE COMING SWEETIE DONT WORRY!’ Before hearing Logan hit him in the back of the head saying, ‘damn it Wade! I ain’t no damn papa!’

You couldn’t help but laugh as you, with Dogpool in your arms, continued to run as far as you could with no real destination in mind, maybe this new dimension wouldn’t be so bad if this is how you got to live everyday. You couldn’t mind it one bit.

[pinknatural]

Pick out the biggest, reddest, juiciest strawberries. Wash ‘em real good. Lay them out on a tray covered in parchment paper. Pat them dry, and leave them out. Put some chocolate chips in a bowl, and microwave in 30 second intervals. After the chocolate is good and melted, pick up the strawberries by the stem and dip them in, coating them thoroughly before putting them back on the tray. 

Dean’s never made chocolate-covered strawberries before. Never had a reason to. It’s kinda nice, to dedicate all his focus to making sure the chocolate is covering up the berries evenly. To try not to get them to drip. 

Since moving into the Bunker, Dean’s found that baking is fun. He likes putting a bunch of stuff together and seeing delicious results. And chocolate-covered strawberries aren’t exactly rocket science, but he knows they’ll taste good and make Sammy happy and that’s all he really wants, right?

Plus, he thinks, gently placing another strawberry back on the parchment paper. He doesn’t think Jack has ever had a chocolate-covered strawberry before, and he can just picture the kid’s excited eyebrows at the taste. 

He picks up another strawberry, pinching all the leaves between his fingers so they don’t get chocolatey. He dips it nice and slow into the glass bowl, turning it gently as he brings it out of the chocolate.

“What are you doing?” 

Dean yelps, nearly dropping his strawberry. 

“Jesus christ, Cas, you snuck up on me!” he says, turning to glare over his shoulder. Cas is standing just behind him, staring curiously. He could’ve been there for two minutes or twenty. Dean didn’t even know he was in the Bunker, let alone the kitchen. “I’m not kidding about that bell, dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says. He doesn’t sound a bit sorry at all. Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to his strawberry, putting it on the tray next to the other completed ones. Cas moves in closer. “What is the purpose of this exercise?”

“Chocolate-covered strawberries,” Dean says. 

“I see that,” Cas says. He sniffs, as if the smell disagrees with him. “But why are you covering the strawberries in the chocolate? Is it for a spell?”

“No, it’s a dessert. Like a candy, I guess,” Dean says. “For Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah, yes,” Cas says. “Unattached drifter Christmas.”

Something in Dean’s heart stabs, at that. He hates that Cas has heard him say that, or heard Sam reference it, or whatever. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking away from Cas’ eyes. The strawberries are safer to look at. “I guess.”

Cas’ big hands enter Dean’s field of view, and he plucks up a strawberry. Not one with chocolate on it. A naked one. Despite himself, Dean looks back up at Cas. It’s hard to not look at him. He has a very nice face.

“What does chocolate strawberries have to with the patron saint of bees?” 

“Bees?”

“And epilepsy,” Cas says, squinting at the strawberry. “And the mentally ill. And happy marriages.”

“Uh, it’s more about the happy marriages thing,” Dean says. “Valentine’s Day is about love and shit.”

“And strawberries,” Cas says, nodding wisely, as if he understands everything. He sets the strawberry back on the tray. Dean’s not sure if he’s fucking with him or not. Surely after all this time on earth, Cas knows what fucking Valentine’s Day is. 

“You give the strawberries to your Valentine,” Dean says. “Or chocolate or whatever. Or those fucking disgusting chalky heart things. But Eileen loves chocolate-covered strawberries and so these are for Sam. To give to her.”

Dean told Sam to make his own chocolate-covered strawberries, but Sam said that either Dean could make them or he would buy some from the store. And Dean does not trust fucking Hy-Vee to have quality chocolate-covered strawberries. He picks up Cas’ naked strawberry--the last one--and dips it into the chocolate. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Cas says, watching him. “To help Sam out.”

“Whatever,” Dean mutters, holding the strawberry up so the excess chocolate can drip back into the bowl. “I wanted Jack to try some, too.”

“You say that like it will make me think you less kind,” Cas says. Dean is tempted to throw him out of the kitchen. But goddamnit, he likes Cas and likes when Cas hangs out with him and asks stupid questions about Valentine’s Day. But knows that Saint Valentine is the patron saint of epilepsy, or whatever. Ugh. 

Dean never knows when Cas is leaving, anyway, so he’s gotta take all the time he can get. He leaves his strawberries behind and fetches another glass bowl. The white chocolate chips are already out, beside the opened bag of regular chocolate chips. 

“I thought you said white chocolate was an abomination,” Cas says, watching Dean pour some into the bowl. 

“It is,” Dean says. “But it will look fancier this way, trust me.” He puts the bowl in the microwave, punches in a 3-0-enter then turns around to look at Cas. He’s inspecting the neat line of chocolate-covered strawberries. They’re a little messier than Dean wants, but hell, it’s his very first try. 

“I don’t understand why you would put the chocolate on the strawberries,” Cas says. “My understanding is that strawberries are perfectly good on their own.”

“Dude, bacon is perfectly good on its own and we put chocolate on that,” Dean says. He crosses back to the counter and picks up a strawberry by the stem, holds it out to Cas. “Go on, try it.”

He expects Cas to take the strawberry from him--chocolate end first, and then he’ll get chocolate all over his fingers and Dean will die a million deaths watching him lick the chocolate off. Instead, Cas does something a thousand times worse and leans forward, biting into the strawberry without taking it, like Dean’s feeding it to him or some shit. 

Dean has a vision of a picnic somewhere, red and white checkered blanket and all. The sky is blue and the grass is soft and Cas’ head is in Dean’s lap and Dean’s feeding him strawberries and kissing him between each one. 

But instead Cas just--doesn’t break eye contact. Just stares, as he bites into the strawberry, chews and swallows. 

“Good?” Dean says, mouth dry. 

Cas closes his eyes, licking his lips. “Mmm, very.” He straightens back up. Even though he licked his lips, he missed a little--has a chocolate mustache. Dean has the insane urge to lick it right off his face. 

“Uh, you got some--chocolate,” Dean croaks instead. He mimes with his own thumb. Cas swipes the chocolate and succeeds in smearing it everywhere. 

“Did I get it?” he asks, and his wide blue eyes hypnotize Dean into reaching forward and wiping the chocolate off Cas’ face with his own fingers. Then Dean licks the chocolate off his thumb. 

Then Dean realizes that the microwave is beeping and the white chocolate’s first 30 seconds have been up for a long time, and he should probably go get that, and he escapes across the kitchen. 

“The strawberry molecules and chocolate molecules are very pleasing together,” Cas says. “Do humans put chocolate on other fruits?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, stirring the white chocolate frantically. If he doesn’t look at Cas maybe Cas will think that what just happened was normal, and that Dean isn’t fucking insane. “Uh, apples, bananas, pineapples. I think I saw it on kiwi once. Uh, maybe orange slices.”

“Fascinating,” Cas says. Dean puts the white chocolate back into the microwave. “Yes, I think Jack would like that very much.”

“Good,” Dean says. He goes to the fridge, gets a beer. Opens it on the side of the counter and takes a big swig. The microwave beeps.

It’s all melted. Dean grabs a spoon and goes over to the berries. He is not confident about this part at all, but crazyforcrust.com said to use a spoon. And hopefully he can get, like four or five good-looking ones for Sam, and the rest can be for him to pig out on on the fourteenth alone in his room while he tries not to wonder where Cas is. 

He dips the spoon into the white chocolate and covers it, then raises it over a strawberry and zig-zags over it, letting the white chocolate drip and drizzle overtop.

“See?” Dean says to Cas, who he knows is watching. “You can hardly taste the white chocolate this way but it looks good.” Well, it doesn’t look bad. Dean’s sure they’ll look better as he goes.

“I see,” Cas says. He points to the drizzled strawberry. “Are you giving that one to Sam?”

“No,” Dean says. “That one was just a practice one.”

“Good,” Cas says, and he picks up the strawberry by the stem. Dean’s never, ever seen him go for seconds before, but he makes a mental note of it. But then Cas turns the strawberry around, unmistakably offering it to Dean. “You should have one. You made them.”

“But--” Dean starts to say, and then Cas brings it up, so it nearly touches Dean’s lips. He looks at him with the same kind of focus he gives to a hunt, or smiting demons. 

“Eat it,” he says, nudging Dean’s lips with the fruit. Dean opens his mouth and bites into it. Maybe Dean would lay his head on Cas’ lap in their picnic, and Cas would feed Dean. 

The strawberry is good, probably. Dean’s not really sure what it tastes like. All he can see are Cas’ eyes, boring into his. 

Dean swallows. 

“You don’t have any chocolate on your face,” Cas says. He sounds disappointed. Dean can’t unpack that. 

“That’s ‘cause the chocolate is less melty,” Dean says, mostly on autopilot. He feels a million miles away. “Cause it’s starting to harden.”

“Okay,” Cas says. “Can I help with the drizzle?”

“Oh,” Dean says, shaken out of some kind of trance. “Sure. Get a spoon.”

Cas fetches one. He holds it like an instrument of war. Dean loves him so fucking much.

They drizzle white chocolate over the strawberries. Cas does it so precisely his drizzles look like they came from the store. Dean’s drizzles improve. He makes a couple decent ones. For Jack, he guesses, ‘cause the ones Cas made should probably go to Sam.

“I gave you a strawberry,” Cas says out of nowhere. “And you gave me one. Does that make us Valentines?”

Dean freezes. 

A moment later, his heart restarts and he looks at Cas, who is solemnly drizzling. Then he looks innocently up at Dean, and Dean realizes that Cas has absolutely been fucking with him this whole time. Absolutely knows about Valentine’s Day, absolutely ate that strawberry out of Dean’s hand on purpose. Dean narrows his eyes at him. Cas tilts his head. 

“You’re a menace,” Dean grumbles. 

“That’s not a no,” Cas says. 

“You’re right,” Dean says. “I guess it does make us Valentines.” Cas smiles, a tiny, private thing, and then looks back down at his drizzling. 

“Good,” he says quietly, and Dean ducks his head, cheeks warm and heart fluttering, and he lifts up his spoon. 

It’s kind of cold in Kansas in February, but Dean imagines him and Cas wrapped in blankets,  feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in front of the TV. This time, he thinks, he’ll actually taste the strawberry. And you know what? Dean’s sure that those strawberry molecules and those chocolate molecules are gonna be fucking fantastic.

Especially if he gets to kiss them off Cas’ lips. 

(ao3)

[yourdoorisunlocked]

I'll Never Meet Another You - Part 1

📺 【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】📺

𝐀/𝐍: Is that...? Oh my god- It's the sound of another WIP in my endless void of fanfic ideas that managed to see the light of day!! It also means I've added another demon husband to my ✨cOlLeCtIoN✨

So, I'm definitely doing a continuation of this- I was having WAY too much fun writing it.

Enjoy your yandere, stalking, creepy-ass television man! :)

. . .

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭��, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴛᴀɴɢᴏ | ᴀᴜᴛᴏʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

. . .

Electricity bounced across clawed, neon-blue fingertips as Vox’s collection of monitors booted up, lining the walls in a cyan-hued excess of the latest tech his company manufactured.  

With but a wave of his hand, the devices were slaves to his command. 

As Vox sat upon his electronic throne that was centered before it all, he closed every work-related tab within his mental browser, before slumping in his seat within the darkness. The demon rubbed where the bridge of his nose would’ve been with a stressed crease in his brows; a little habit that he had acquired from his life above.  

To say it had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century. For the first twelve hours since he had emerged from his quarters, Vox had been bombarded with underlings shoving incessant workloads into his lap.

Ensuring the reputation of the Vees, the new VoxTech Angelic Security system that he had been developing, the countless amount of paperwork and maintaining the digital grid, and to top it all off, he had to manage the temper of one pissed-off Valentino. 

Ugh... Fuckin' Val and his goddamn runaways... it's not my fucking fault he can't manage his toys. 

Dealing with the lustful moth Overlord's temper tantrums were usually the absolute highlights of Vox's day, but this time in particular there was quite the treat in store for the overworked Overlord.

Hm... Maybe that's how the name came to be. Ah, who am I kidding? Velv just sits on her ass all day.

Of course, Vox pushed his indignation aside and swept everything up with a winning smile of pure showmanship, the pinnacle of excellence in front of the public.

And just as everything seemed to fall into place, like any other day of Vox cleaning up the messes of his fellow Overlords, something just had to go fucking wrong.

Imagine being the literal fucking backbone of the Vees, ensuring that their picture-perfect reputation of utmost excellence and being called up by an irritated Velvet to play babysitter and manage the man-child because of fucking Angel Dust- 

And then catching wind of ḧ̴͇͕́̍i̷̡̹͋͂̓m̵͈͔̳̭̙̍͝ returning... 

A few sparks flew from Vox's antenna as his overheated fans whirred rapidly. That old timey, triangle-assed p̴̲̩̮͙̜̎́̋r̸͓̟͆̀͆i̸̼͕͓̺̹̪̔͛͊̋͗c̸̢̤̐͂͜k̵̻̭̦̣̪͈̕-̸̢̡̪͇̖̈́... 

Slowly, he took a deep breath, stretching his knuckles and tilting his head to the side with a deep frown. He had the evening to himself, now. No Radio-Pricks, no need to maintain the perfect facade he had so carefully crafted for himself and his allies, and no Valentino.

Time to unwind... 

A cup of coffee materialized in his hand with a spark of electricity that lingered around his hand, dancing upon his fingers. He scooted just a bit closer to the large, main monitor within the center of TVs installed in his office, and his mental request was immediately answered by the large computer screen before him. 

A zipped file containing possibly the most sensitive information that you couldn’t fucking torture out of the television demon happened to be the very first result of his search, almost teasing him with the overtness of his little obsession. 

Vox clicked on the file quicker than ever before, and he took a long, slow sip of his drink as he focused solely upon the pretty little blessing that had graced his screens since a few months ago.

You were lounging on your couch, scrolling haphazardly on your phone in your less-than ideal apartment, but hey, it worked for you, so who was Vox to judge? Even if he would've placed you in one of the most mind-bogglingly extravagant penthouses that you'd ever seen in your afterlife, he had no qualms as long as you remained untouched. 

And luckily, his position and occupation made it more than easy to ensure that you had no one in particular in mind to take his place. 

No matter where you were, or what you were doing, nothing about you remained unseen by Vox, and no stone was left unturned when it came to your private life. 

And Vox was always there. Watching. Adoring you through digitally enamored eyes without moving an inch from his seat. 

Small, pixelated hearts floated across his interface as you looked through your phone, blessing him with a plethora of reactions. Whether it be with a small pout of your lips, to the furrow of your brows, to that cute giggle-snort you made whenever something seemed funny to you, the electronic Overlord drank it up like red wine from a golden cup glorified by gods themselves.

Lord, Vox had it bad.

Every step you took, every breath you inhaled, every purchase you made, every club or restaurant you went to, your exact order at your favorite diner, your taste in fashion and jewelry, he memorized every fact, photo, and video and saved it all in a private file.  

It was Vox's most precious possession, the closest he could ever get to you, for now.

Vox’s smile stretched across his flat-screen face; a neon hue of razor-sharp teeth pulled into a fond simper as the sound of your chiming laughter rang out across his office. 

How he wished to capture the sound, perhaps place it into a bottle for him, and only him to hear, your smile a treasure of the rarest quality to keep. 

There was no doubt about it, Vox was your number one fan. 

More monitors across the room lit up, whether it be with your beautiful face or your soft, angelic singing, there was nothing but you, you... 

Y̵̼̜̿o̴̝͕̾ṷ̸̇.̶͈͍̎̔ ̵̟̒̚ 

Vox hated the idea of having to share this with anyone else. Share you with anyone else. Every time he ended the night like this, he had to fight the urge to steal you away and seat you upon your rightful place, a throne beside his, towering above his empire with no unworthy, sinful eyes to look upon you. 

“Huh... I’ve actually always wondered what that ‘Vox’ guy is like in real life...” said demon froze at the sound of his name pouring from your lips, and a soft blush mixed with the bright blue glow of his face, coloring it a light lavender pink. You were talking to yourself again, something Vox binged like a talk show whenever he was off work.  

He could watch you all day like this. And God knows that he would massacre any number of demons, conquer any area of territory simply for a few minutes in your presence.

A casual conversation, witty banter, fuck, he'd rather talk about the goddamn weather with you than be deprived of your presence any longer. Not behind a screen, but in person.

Vox needed something, anything with you, romantic or platonic, though the former would surely grow an insatiable craving, if you kept teasing him like this.

He needed you to be there for him, to just treat him like a person.

Vox normally wouldn't mind the fact that he was always perfecting himself for others, catering to their every desire. A machine. Meant to serve the masses, and in turn, they'd fall to their feet before him like flies to honey, insatiable, pathetic worms. 

But it'd drive anyone to the brink of fucking insanity, to keep up the same, cheery yet suave charade every draining day.

And with you? Even if you never knew about your secret admirer’s ever-prying eyes watching your every step, it felt like Vox didn't need to put on a show for you. He could simply watch and listen as you, sweet, mischievous, lovable you talked his ears off for the rest of his day.

What I'd give to just kiss the hell out of her-

“Heh, he’s actually kind of cute. Y’know, for a TV, I guess...” you giggled at the end of your sentence as you scrolled through more photos of him, drinking up every piece of content that featured the demon that was watching you through your camera.  

A little side-menu of exactly what you had been looking through immediately popped up, and an intense zapping noise from above signaled to Vox that, once again, the demon was two seconds away from overheating and having to reboot himself as he nearly spit out his hot drink. 

Vox nearly short-circuited in his seat as you smiled warmly down at your phone, directly into his eyes as his cold, mechanical heart pounded in his chest, and bright red spread across his screen like a virus.

“Oh... Ohoho...” 

“Now that’s good television...” 

. . .

End Notes: Ok, holy SHIT-

I really like this one. Like GODDAMN this was so fun to write!! I'll definitely be doing headcanons for yandere Hazbin Hotel very soon. Also, that A03 shit I just pulled at the end? You're welcome ;)

Btw I'm working on my Masterlist, so if anyone has requests or drabbles that they'd like to enter, don't be afraid to ask! I think I'll make some rules clear later, like no EXTREME asks or kinks or anything like that.

Smut is on the table though don't be afraid lmao. I'll be the one shaking in my boots when I'm about to post it- 😓

Anyway, thanks for reading!! See you next time✨

[torialefay]

smut requests

i was wondering if you could do number 11 with innie or number 13 with han jisung? (it's alright if you cant btw) i love your writing and remember to take care of yourself! <3

Praise for the Princess 🎀

han jisung x praisekink!reader smut

✨ synopsis: hannie loves to tell his princess just how well they're doing. gn!reader, but does refer to them as "princess."

✨ wc: ~800

✨ warnings: sloppy head, praise kink, minors DNI!!!

• "oh fuck... yes baby, just like that," jisung coached you. "keep going. yesss, just like that."

• jisung had you on your knees, your mouth open with his cock resting all the way to the back of your throat.

• sucking in tightly, tongue flat around him, drool spilling from your mouth is exactly how he wanted it.

• you bobbed your head at just the same pace as you kept your hands steady on jisung's thighs. his hands were busy keeping your hair pulled up and out of your face.

• with each stroke of your mouth, jisung bucked up a bit, making sure he hit your throat every time. you couldn't help but to gag and choke a bit, but that's just what he wanted.

• "eyes up here, princess," he said, pulling down on your hair to tilt your head up for him.

• as you looked up, you saw jisung looking down at you with pure lust, biting down on his lip hard at the sight of you.

• tears started to well up in your eyes from the lack of oxygen. you tried your best to keep up the steady pace as jisung began to move your head up and down on him more rapidly. but you could only take so much.

• after a few seconds, with a multitude of tears streaming down your face, you pulled off, gasping for air loudly and coughing up excess saliva.

• "awhhh what a good baby," jisung said, smiling now as he watched you pant underneath him.

• "go again, princess. you can do it," he said before gripping your hair tighter and heading your head back to his cock.

• you willingly opened your mouth back up for him, letting him push himself in. he made a few gentle strokes, coating himself in your saliva before starting to pick up the pace.

• "get those pretty lips tighter on me baby," he instructed, holding your head down on him.

• you did as you were told, looking up to gage his reaction.

• "ah fuckkkk" you heard his voice tremble the smallest bit.

• "perfect... fuck," he smiled, letting his head fall back for a few seconds. "my perfect girl. gonna make me cum already."

• you hummed along his cock, sending new waves through him. you continued to look up at him with big eyes, tears now freely streaming down as you let him use your face however he wanted.

• suddenly, he pulled your hair, pulling your entire head back and off of him.

• "breathe. this is your last chance," he demanded.

• he only let you get a few short breaths in before moving both hands to the sides of your face and ramming his cock back into your mouth.

• you tried your best to follow as he had instucted you before, but he was now going so quickly, you couldn't bare to look up, just shutting your eyes and concentrating.

• "ahhh," you heard him moan, biting his lip afterwards. you felt him twitch inside of you, letting you know he was close. you took it as the opportunity to give him the slightest bit more pressure, angling the tip of your tongue up to hit his head even more roughly.

• "ughhhhh fuckkkkk," he moaned out.

• "look at me, princess," he all but yelled. you did as he demanded, turning your head to see him about to absolutely unravel.

• "so fucking beautiful. you're gonna be so good for me and let me cum in that pretty mouth aren't you?" he said, knowing you couldn't respond back.

• all you could do was moan while gagging and choking around him.

• you watched as his eyes rolled back, all but violently throwing your head down onto him.

• "i'm gonna cum... oh fuck i'm gonna cum. oh fuck. fuck. get ready to swallow, princess." you saw him contort his mouth before gasping. he jolted inside of you, his legs giving in slightly as he cursed loudly.

• "fuckkkkkkk," he moaned as he continued fucking into you. you felt his warm cum as it hit the back of your throat and slowly roll down.

• you remained silent as jisung finished out his high, his strokes into your mouth getting slower and slower until he came to a complete stop. finally, he pulled your mouth off of him with a satisfying *pop.

• "ugh," he groaned before smiling.

• he leaned himself down until his head was hovering just over yours.

• "you did so perfect," he whispered, planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

• as you smiled up at him, he reached his hand out. an offering to help you stand back up off your knees.

• as you stood, he lightly placed one hand on your waist and the other onto your hip before gripping down and holding you steadily in place.

• "you go rest, princess. let me know what you want as your reward."

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

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨ check out my masterlist for more

[mncxbe]

Nice 'n slow

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆/𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: smut to fluff♡/ mentions of pms/ excessive use of pet names

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Dazai had his arms wrapped snugly around your frame– one keeping your torso flush against his chest the other pressing down on your lower back guiding you lower on his cock. "That's it bella. Feels good? Want me to go faster?" he purred, hot breath dripping on your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "No baby iss good like this..." The man let out a chuckle, kissing your shoulder. "As you wish baby"

A few hours ago Dazai came home from work to find you sulking on the couch, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts and a pair of black panties. The moment you saw him you started complaining about how bad your cramps were getting. "It's really not fair" you whined "I already get the worst cramps during my period why do I have to deal with pms too?" Your loving boyfriend did his best to soothe you; made you a cup hot chocolate, cuddled you for a while but the pain just wouldn't go away. So he did the next best thing he had in mind– made sure that you came all over his cock.

His thrusts were slow and deep, loving even, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with each movement. He wasn't normally this gentle but he didn't want to tire you out even more. "I got you pretty girl just relax." Humming in approval you nuzzled your face against his neck, your moans and soft whimpers muffled by his skin. Your fingers were locked in his chocolate brown hair, gently tugging at his roots– just how he liked it. Honestly, this couldn't be more perfect.

You were on cloud nine, breathing softly, your eyes half lidded as you rolled your hips against his. With one particular thrust Dazai's tip hit your sweet spot, making you tense up. He immediately caught on to it and repeated the motion, making you cry out "'samu... not there".

"Oh yes sweet girl right there" he said in a sweet and lowkey condescending tone before moving his hands to your hips to keep you in place. You whined in protest and tried to raise yourself off his chest but he quickly shushed you "Baby– be good and stay here. Need ya to relax so I can take care of ya~ ah f-fuck". He picked up the pace a bit, abusing your sweet spot with each thrust. Your arms gave out and you fell back on his chest, panting softly. It was delirious– your whole body felt weak in his arms, slowly giving into the pleasure he was so graciously granting you. Squelching noises and ragged moans bounced off the walls of your bedroom as he pushed you closer to your high.

"Shiit sweet girl pussy's so good~" he groaned, bucking his hips against yours "Such an angel aren't ya? Yea, you are c'mon pretty baby cum for me. Make a mess on my cock" His praise and sweet encouragements did it for you and you came. hard. your slick coated his length, dripping down onto the sheets below as you joled in pleasure, arching your back. Dazai cooed sweet words into your ear, one of his hands working up and down your back as he kept pumping inside you.

"Shh baby just a bit more 'm close too. You can take it" And so you closed your eyes, trying to push away the burning sensation in your core. Your walls squeezed down on him, sucking him in so perfectly that it didn't take long for him to cum too. His cum spurted into your hole warm against your gooey walls. Still, even after cumming he didn't pull out, simply keeping himself sheated inside of you.

Sighing softly, your boyfriend ran his fingers through your hair. "Feeling better sweetie?" he asked, sugary voice dripping with affection.

"Yea, a bit. Thanks 'samu it doesn't hurt as bad now" you mumbled sleepily, feeling the pain in your belly slowly wash away. "I'll be damned, it worked. Gotta thank Ranpo for the tip" he added, laughing.

You raised your head off his chest, giving him a quizzical look. "Ranpo told you to make me cum if I have cramps?"

"Well... not really. He suggested it, said something about relieving your muscles and releasing hormones." he shrugged, pushing your head back down on his chest "Not like I know, honestly. I'm better in practice than theory"

His comment made you chuckle softly as you ruffled his hair. "That you are Osamu. That you are...". Closing your eyes you allowed yourself to fully relax in his warm embrace. Now that you were free from pain you started feeling the strain of your session and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

All the while your boyfriend smiled down at you, his gaze taking in your figure; you looked so pretty like that– sprawled on top of him with your face mushed up against his bandaged chest. He could feel the slow rise and fall of your ribcage under his fingertips and wondered what on earth he did to deserve someone like you... "Goodnight bella. Love you" he whispered. Kissing your forehead he pulled the crisp duvet over you, sheltering you from the cold air in the bedroom before closing his eyes.

[lolahauri]

Can you do lovesick Sam from sdv? Like the farmer went somewhere for a while and he misses them. Can be nsfw!!

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :Love Sick! Sam HC's:;

-> F/M, Established Relationship, Drabble, Headcanons, Fluff & Smut, (You're Wearing Shorts and A T-Shirt) <- (MDNI)

Summary: You went to Zuzu city to visit your family and friends for three weeks, leaving Sam at home alone. But he's so excited when you finally get back :)

~

・❥・SFW

Literal golden retriever boy.

Practically jumps on you as soon as you open the door, peppering your face in sloppy kisses while he crushes you in a bear-hug.

Only pulls away from the hug cause you couldn't breathe lol.

Helps you unload your bags and suitcases from the car.

Partly because he's just a gentleman, partly because he wants you to get in the house asap.

Does NOT let you unpack though. As soon as your stuff is inside, he's picking you up or dragging you over to the couch so he can cuddle you.

Holds you like a teddy bear and asks all about your trip, resting his face right in front of yours while he lays on his side and hugs you. You're laying on your back.

Looks at you with heart eyes while you talk, just admiring everything about you.

You think he isn't even listening, but don't worry, he is!

He just can't help but stare at your pretty lips and eyes after not seeing them for so long.

Absentmindedly draws shapes on your arm, enjoying the feel of your skin on his fingers.

Offers to make you dinner when you're done talking.

But plans change when you finally notice something pressing against your thigh. ;)

-> Vaginal Sex, Spooning Position, Hickeys, Dry Humping, Groping, Creampie <-

・❥・NSFW

As soon as you noticed he was hard, you rejected his idea of him cooking for you, saying you wanted to take care of him instead.

He doesn't waste a second taking you up on the offer.

Turns you over onto your side and starts grinding his cock onto your ass, kissing your neck and groping your tits through your shirt at the same time.

One of his hands moves down the front of your shorts as the other makes its way under your shirt.

Makes a few small hickey's on the side of your throat while he finger fucks you.

He's kneading your tits and rubbing your nipples, switching between them so each tit gets some attention.

All while he's rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers into your cunt to get them nice and soaked.

Hearing your moans and whimpers drives him fucking crazy. His rutting against your ass starts to speed up, bringing him dangerously close to cumming before he's even taken his pants off.

But soon when he hears that you're getting close, his fingers slow to a stop. You don't even have time to whine and complain before he's ripping your shorts off and pulling out his cock as fast as he can.

He goes back to rubbing your clit as he teases his tip at your entrance, pushing himself in just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to help you cum.

You know what he's waiting for, he wants to hear you beg for him.

And you do. Clenching around his tip, you plead for him to just shove it in already, telling him you need him so bad.

Before you can finish your ramblings, he shoves his cock inside you in one motion.

Once he starts thrusting, you both turn into a moaning mess.

You feel his hot breathe on your neck as he whimpers into you between bites and kisses, still kneading your tits and rubbing on your clit.

Before you know it your cumming hard on his cock. Completely soaking him with your juices.

The feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him, mixed with the sound of your heavenly moaning, is making Sam's climax follow right behind yours.

"Ah fuck baby, m'gonna cum in you. Shit, shit, fuck, oh my god-"

He fucks into you a few more times, making sure you're completely stuffed before he pulls out, letting the excess cum pour out of you on down your shaking thighs.

You both lay there tired and panting for a bit.

After a few minutes he helps you up and takes you to the bathroom to shower with him.

You absolutely go for round two in the shower.

Presses your back against the wall, lifts one of your legs around his hip, and fucks you till you can barely stand (again).

But if you're significantly shorter than him, he fully lifts you up and fucks you against the wall, both legs wrapped around his waist while your arms are around his neck.

Once you two are actually clean, you head right to bed.

Big spoons you and holds your hand under the pillow as you both fall asleep. <3

[sstrwbrryccke]

I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)

HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!

the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)

— sponsor | sub park sunghoon

tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship

you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.

the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.

you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.

a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.

when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."

"ah, sorry."

"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.

"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.

"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"

"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.

he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."

"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."

"yes sir." he replies without much thought.

you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.

"you caught my eye in the performance."

he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."

"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.

"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."

his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"

you chuckle, "yes, really."

☆★☆

perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.

you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.

"did you see the spin?"

"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.

after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.

the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.

he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.

"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"

"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"

"yes."

you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.

☆★☆

navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.

"what are your expectations for me?"

and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.

"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."

he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...

"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.

"i see." he pulls back, shy again.

"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.

he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.

"i am."

☆★☆

and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.

training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.

"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.

"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.

it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.

sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.

but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.

you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.

you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.

gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.

and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.

☆★☆

you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.

“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”

you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.

“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”

“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.

“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.

“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”

he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.

“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”

you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”

he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.

“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.

“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”

your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”

he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.

“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.

“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.

“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.

“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.

“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.

“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.

not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.

“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.

“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?

“come for me hoonie, come for me.”

his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.

it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.

“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.

“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

you guys share a look before laughing.

☆★☆

everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.

before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!

snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.

after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.

☆★☆

sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.

you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.

“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.

your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.

“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.

“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.

“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.

you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.

his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…

that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.

his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”

you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.

“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.

“anything for the olympic winner.”

[lilirari]

happy halloween !

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary : the one in which you're helping oscar with his face painting for halloween.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing : oscar piastri x fem! reader

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. genre : fluff

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. word count : 0.8k words

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. author's note : i wanted to write something special for halloween but i didn't get the time to do so T_T this is pretty rushed & quite short too with a terribly written ending & it's not really proofread either but i hope it'll still make up for the lack of content 😞

" oscar, stop moving around! you're going to mess up your face painting! " you exclaimed, landing a light slap on his right arm in hopes that he'll stop squirming as the said male let out a soft chuckle in response.

" hey, it's not my fault! the ends of the brush are just very soft.. i feel a bit ticklish. " oscar replied back, trying to defend himself. he did stop moving his head around though and had tried to stay still as you were seated on his lap, painting some scars on his face.

the two of you had decided to go as pirates this year, something which you thought would've been funny and at the same time, a sort of a genius moment because your boyfriend already had that thick aussie accent so it wouldn't be too hard for him to get the "arr !!"'s in.

" are you not done yet? i feel like you've been painting on my face for an hour now. " oscar remarked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

" pfft.. it hasn't even been 30 minutes, silly. i'm almost done though, don't worry. just a few more touches and you'll be the best-looking pirate with the nastiest and most realistic scar out there. " you replied back, gently rubbing the brush across his cheek, your tongue sticking out slightly as you had your full concentration on finishing that scar.

as he noticed how focused and serious you were with painting on scars on his face, oscar couldn't help but smile as he looked at you in admiration. the way you sticked your tongue out, the way you squinted your eyes when you were painting the little details, the way you bit your lower lip whenever you made a slight mistake and the feeling of your thumb rubbing the excess paint off from his face all attracted him and made him feel euphoric. the aussie remained quiet throughout the rest of the process, as he stared at your features, admiring your beauty with the most love-struck eyes ever.

" ah, there you go! it's all done now! " you finally exclaimed after a few minutes, a look of satisfaction on your face as you grab the mirror laying on the table next to you. " what do you think? "

" whoa, i didn't expect it to look this realistic.. you did a great job, y/n. " your boyfriend commented, letting out a low whistle as he looked at the painted scar across his face.

" hehe, i know. i'm such a great artist, aren't i? " you asked, placing the brush behind your ear. you straightened your back and placed your hands on your hips as you striked an cartoonic pose, a wide and proud grin plastered on your face.

oscar could almost see stars sparkling around you as you striked your pose. he let out another chuckle and looked up at you once more, a smile decorating his features and not a word escaping from his lips.

" .. what? what's wrong? why are you staring at me like that? " you asked, tilting your head in confusion once you noticed the male simply staring at you and not uttering a word.

" hmm.. nothing. you just look really adorable when you're being all smug and proud of yourself. " he replied back, his smile turning into a grin as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

your eyes widened slightly when you felt his arms around your waist as oscar wasn't someone who showed his affection through physical touch. but you did notice that he had started being more comfortable around you lately and would even be the first one to intertwine your fingers when you walk together or wrap his arm around your shoulders when you're just sitting and casually talking to someone else.

a giggle escaped your lips when you heard him call you 'adorable' as he leaned in closer to you until your foreheads were touching and you were staring into each other's eyes.

" you're so cute.. so pretty.. you're my pretty girl. " oscar whispered, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

your face immediately flushed at both his words and his actions, which didn't go unnoticed by him. the mclaren driver let out a hearty laugh after noticing your red cheeks, his lips tugging upwards into a smirk.

" so, i assume you like the nickname, pretty girl? " he asked, gently poking your sides to tease you.

" maybe.. well, if i'm your pretty girl, then that makes you my pretty boy. " you replied back, running a hand through his hair.

" your pretty boy, huh? .. doesn't sound too bad. " oscar commented, resting his chin on top of your head, his arms now engulfing you into a hug. a small sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips as he felt you melting into his touch. it was the small and intimate moments like this which made him feel truly happy and he never wanted to let you go.

" oscar? " you muttered, leaning your head onto his chest as you heard the soft beating of his heart.

" yeah? "

" i love you. "

you could hear his heart beat a little more rapidly after you said those three simple, yet powerful, words. his hold on you loosened for a second as he looked down at you before pressing his lips on your forehead.

" i love you too, my pretty girl. "

© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

[veliana]

Hi!! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.

If you can, can you do yandere Rook (TWST) with an S/O who thinks they’re really ugly?

Either way I hope you have a good day/night :3

A/n: Thank you for the request, I was very inspired <3. You didn't specify the format, so I did it in the form of headcanons, I hope that's okay Tw : Low self-esteem, yandere behavior, possessiveness and obsessive behavior, surveillance and control, social isolation, veiled threats, manipulation, disturbing behavior, excessive jealousy, self-doubt, themes of coercion and control, toxic relationships, use of a translator Reader : Gn

You have always had low self-esteem, convinced that you are truly ugly. The comments of others and your own reflection in the mirror only reinforce this feeling.

Despite this, you have caught the attention of Rook Hunt, the mysterious and charismatic hunter of Pomefiore. Rook has fallen deeply in love with you, fascinated by your inner beauty that you yourself do not see.

However, his love for you has taken a dark and possessive turn. Rook began to compliment you almost excessively, his poetic and enchanting words trying to convince you of your beauty. "Ah, my dear, you are like a rough diamond, dazzling despite yourself," he would often say.

He watches your movements from afar, protecting you from the slightest criticism or mockery. Anyone who dares to speak ill of you mysteriously finds themselves excluded or sidelined, sometimes even disappearing.

Rook often leaves small gifts and admiring notes, poems, and flowers in your locker or on your desk. He hopes this will make you see how special you are in his eyes.

Rook becomes increasingly possessive, ensuring that you spend as much time as possible with him. He invites you to secret dates, getaways in nature where he can admire you without interruption.

He has a way of subtly manipulating others to ensure you have no close friends. You start to notice that people are distancing themselves from you for no apparent reason, except for Rook, always there to console you.

His language becomes more intense and a bit frightening at times: "I will not let anyone tarnish your beauty, no one understands how precious you are to me."

You have difficulty accepting his compliments, thinking that he is mocking you or that he is blinded by something you do not see. "You say that, but I know you can't really mean it," you often murmur in response.

Rook begins to gently isolate you, surrounding you with his love and obsession. He tells you that he is the only one who sees the real beauty in you, that others are blinded by superficial standards.

You begin to doubt your own perception. Maybe Rook is right? Maybe you are beautiful in his way? Rook does not hesitate to use veiled threats against those who might potentially harm you or come between the two of you. "No one loves you like I do, and I will do anything to protect you," he says, his eyes shining with a worrying intensity.

His fits of jealousy become more frequent. He follows you, ensuring that no one gets too close to you. It becomes increasingly difficult to find a moment of solitude.

Despite everything, he continues to adore you, repeating how magnificent you are, hoping that you will eventually believe his words and accept his unconditional love, even if it is tinged with madness.

You are trapped in a whirlwind of his excessive attentions, his sweet but suffocating words, and his possessive desire. Rook is determined to keep you by his side, to prove that you are much more than you think.

No matter the means, Rook will do everything to make you see what he sees: a person of unparalleled beauty, worthy of his consuming and delusional love. And he will let no one, not even you, stand in his way.

[elliesflower]

victory lap [ellie williams]

pairing; f!reader x ellie

cw; rich!ellie, plus-sized female!reader, degradation (kinda), mean!ellie, vouyerism, semi-public masturbation(kinda?), ellie and reader are both perverted ngl

an; syd's comeback??? and it's smut?????? i've had this in my drafts since like may and finally got around to editing it so here you go. and i swear i'm working on chapter 8. and also please don't ask why i didn't pick a sexier sport. like basketball or something. i don't know either. ok bye.

for my sweet babies @coeurify @bambiesfics @addisonnie @seattlesellie

It was yet another blazing hot day at the country club, the sun’s sweltering rays kissing the backs of your legs as you bent down to retrieve a fallen golf ball from the bright green turf, careful not to bend straight over so that your panties would be on full display for anyone who dared to walk behind you. You readjusted the visor on your head upon standing, before you wiped a speck of excess dirt off the white plastic with a perfectly manicured finger before passing it off to Tommy Miller. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, making sure to grab an unnecessary amount of your hand in his own as he took the ball. He winked at you before readjusting his own visor, and setting up the ball on the tee. After the first time you caddied for Tommy, he started requesting you by name. Of course, you knew it probably had a little something to do with the way you caught him staring at your full breasts that sat perfectly in your pink racerback, neckline so low everyone could watch the way small beads of sweat would dribble down your skin and disappear between your chest. 

The truth is, you didn’t mind that Tommy was a little flirty with you, or even handsy sometimes, for that matter—for two reasons. The main one being, Tommy had money. Like, different car for each day of the week money. And his brother, Joel, somehow had even more, you’d reckoned from the times you’ve gotten to chat with him. They were always talking about what new business venture they’d invested in this week, or what extravagant trips they were taking next week. To the average person, it might sound snobby and pretentious—because well, it was—but around the club, it was normal. But you didn’t mind, because the more money your club members made, the more money they could put in your pocket. And you had bills to pay. 

The second reason being, of course, you knew it wouldn’t get them anywhere. Not when you weren’t really into Tommy’s…type, if you will. 

“Of course, Tommy,” you smiled warmly at him, before stepping back to stand in the shade of the golf cart as you watched him line up his shot. Just as he was all set up, swinging his arms behind him to take the shot, his phone began ringing loudly from his back pocket.  

“Goddamn, piece ‘uh shit!” He exclaimed as the ringer clearly messed up his concentration. You had to hide your smile as he shot you an apologetic look before tucking the club under his arm and pulling out his phone to answer. The club was a little high and tight, with people talking like they’d just stepped off the set of an eighties classic film, but Tommy was a little…different. Coming from Texas, the money he’s made never quite washed away his potty mouth, nor his laid-back attitude.

“What is it Joel? Oh, you’re here?” Tommy glanced at you before dropping his gaze to the ground, rolling the golf ball around with his foot mindlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. No, I’ll have her come pick you two up. Yep. Alright, see ya in a bit.” 

You straightened up against the cart as he approached you, ready to do whatever it was he’d ask. 

“Joel’s here?” You asked, sliding into the cart preemptively. 

“Yeah, that sonuva bitch decided to stop by after all. Him and Ellie are waitin’ at the clubhouse, would you mind swingin’ to pick them up?” 

“Ellie?” You cocked your head slightly, but slid through to the driver’s seat nonetheless. 

“Ah, forgot you haven’t met ‘er yet,” Tommy said, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down to where your thick thighs spilled out onto the seat, your panties just barely covered by the white pleated golf skirt that rode up when you sat. You immediately averted your gaze, turning the key to the cart and feeling it rumble to life. “Ellie’s Joel’s daughter. I think she’s about your age…she’s great n’ all, honors student in college, yadda yadda…y’all might actually hit it off.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said playfully. If only he knew what he was actually implying to your sapphic brain. He just smirked at you, tapping the hood of the cart twice before walking back to the tee. “See ya in a bit,” he called over his shoulder as you drove away. You weren’t too far from the clubhouse, as Tommy had barely gotten started on his round, so it was a quick little drive over. The warm breeze tickled the baby hairs peeking from beneath your visor, and helped to cool the bare skin of your arms. 

Joel was waiting for you in the cart-turnaround at the back of the clubhouse when you arrived, and gave you a little wave as you turned around the corner. You waved back, putting on your best smile and doe eyes as you pulled up in front of him standing alone with two golf club bags at his sides. He smiled politely when you came to a stop, jumping out quickly to retrieve his bags when he started trying to put them on the cart himself. 

“Joel, you know you don’t have to worry about all that. Not when I’m around, at least.” You smirked at him as you picked up the two bags of heavy clubs with ease, loading them onto the back of the cart.

“C’mon now, I can’t even attempt to be a gentleman?” He joked, tipping his visor at you playfully. You giggled, exaggeratedly. 

“Oh, but of course, Mr. Miller. My apologies.” You pretended to curtsey for him, just barely lifting the hem of your short skirt as to not completely expose yourself—but surely you didn’t miss the completely conspicuous way his eyes traveled down the expanse of your curves, from the way your breasts practically spilled from your tank top, to the small patch of exposed skin at your midriff, all the way down to the way your white skirt flowed as you crossed your legs. I mean, who wouldn’t look, honestly? He huffed out a laugh and you took that as your cue to slide back into the driver’s seat, and Joel leaned a strong arm against the roof of the cart. 

“Tommy mentioned your daughter? Is she—” 

“Ready, Dad?” You could only assume Ellie, his daughter, suddenly appeared behind Joel, effectively shutting you up and quite literally taking your breath away. You at least had the decency to choke quietly, using Joel’s surprise as an excuse to turn your head away, bringing your fist to your mouth for a moment as you cleared your throat and tried to regain your composure. You felt the cart dip to your right, so you turned back, expecting to see Joel sliding in next to you—but no, it just had to be his daughter. His beautiful, angelically-built daughter with a perfect smile and perfect jade eyes and somehow even more perfect hands, which she was using to grip the stability bar at the front of the cart as she slid in next to you. 

You felt stunned, could do nothing but pathetically stare at her with your mouth slightly agape as you heard Joel’s phone ringing distantly, somewhere in the back of your mind, even though you knew he was sat right behind you. A half smile made the corner of Ellie’s lip twitch ever so slightly, but she looked away quickly, leaving you practically lusting at the sight of her side profile. 

“You gonna take us to Tommy? Or just sit there and stare like you ain’t got nothin’ in your brain?” Her voice was like pure sex; rich and modulated, no real Southern accent like her father, but his vernacular had definitely rubbed off. It was really hard to not show that her words were heading straight to your lower half, your thighs pressing together just inconspicuously enough that you’d probably be able to play it off if she really noticed. You had to at least look embarrassed, averting your gaze so that you could turn the small engine over. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Tommy speaks very highly of you.” You chose to ignore her little comment, focusing instead on trying to treat Ellie just like every member you’d had the pleasure of serving. 

And oh boy, would it be a pleasure to serve Ellie. 

“M’sure he does,” Ellie all but laughed, leaning back so that her legs spread apart across the seat, her left knee getting dangerously close to your legs. You swallowed thickly, trying to watch the movement of her tattooed arm from your peripheral as she slung it over the back of the seat. You could tell it was a natural response, that she probably man-spreaded like this everywhere—but some sick and perverted part of your mind wanted to believe that she was doing it for you, that she wanted you to see her act so…

“Eyes on the fucking road, sweetheart,” she said, and it was quiet. But the weight of it made you nearly squeak—how long had you been looking over at her?—narrowly avoiding a decently-sized rock that would have gotten easily stuck in the small tires of the golf cart. “This your first day on the job or somethin’?” 

And Ellie was so fucking casual with it. Like she hadn’t even meant to degrade you. You stammered a bit, and you swear you could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. Tommy appeared suddenly as you reached the small summit of the course hill, and all you could do was huff quietly as you approached, again choosing to ignore the way she taunted you like it was second nature. Luckily, she either didn’t hear or chose to ignore you, but she didn’t say another word as you pulled up near Tommy, just as he was taking a long swing with his driver.

“You see that shit, Joel?” He asked as he squinted out at the ball flying through the air with impressive speed. “Might actually beat ya this time, whatcha think?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you just got a head start, that’s all.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice as you quickly jumped out of the cart and ran to grab his clubs for him, and Ellie’s, too. He was finishing up his phone call as he took the bag from you, giving you a small nod before you turned to face Ellie. Now that you were standing practically face to face, you had to stop yourself from looking her up and down. Or you at least had to find a way to be discreet about it…and that was one thing you were, was quick on your feet. 

“These are some nice clubs,” you praised, using it as an excuse to look down at her, playing it off like you were examining them. Her feet were clad in an expensive pair of golfing shoes, her toned calves running into thighs covered in a simple, black, five inch inseam short. You gulped inconspicuously, as your eyes quickly moved past her crotch. Surely, you were hallucinating that…bulge. 

“Aw, so you can be helpful when you wanna be,” Ellie snickered, taking the bag away from you with such quickness that your arm was left hovering in the air. You shook your head slightly as if to shake the thoughts away, and dared to look her in the eyes once more. 

“I sure do try my best,” you said, and it wasn’t meant to be bratty, it really wasn’t—but Ellie’s smirk quickly soured, and she huffed and slung the bag over her shoulder. 

“Get me some water, will you?” She jutted her chin toward the cooler attached to the back of the cart, and you could only nod, instantly following her blunt command like you were a puppet on her string. What was she doing to you?

Ellie wasn’t always an asshole, you see. No, no, society made her this way. Have you ever noticed how rich kids aren’t friends with the poor ones, or vice versa? It’s because they can never find any middle ground, no similarities, no common interests. The kids going to public school were happy with a day trip to the city as a vacation; meanwhile, Ellie was missing weeks of her prissy private school education to fly halfway around the world on a business trip with her dad. 

And now, she was a rich girl going to a pretentious university. But she didn’t like the fact that people saw her this way: an asshole with her nose always pointing up; getting clocked as a rich girl as soon as anyone with eyes looked at the way she was dressed; never knowing if someone liked her for her, instead of just for her money. People were going to look at her and see ‘rich, pretentious asshole’ painted on her forehead no matter what—so why not embrace it? Why not put on this stupid little act that everyone else in her social class seemed to? 

And that’s where the soul-sucking began, Ellie realized. That’s how the bratty, entitled kids from her high school ended up just like their evil, entitled parents. She didn’t want to be this way. It just…happened. 

Nevertheless, Ellie pulled the Nike-swooshed visor off of her head for a moment to run her fingers through her reddish-brown tresses, trying to shake away the heat of the sun. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes linger on the way her tattooed arm flexed as she did so, nearly tripping over your own feet as you brought her a completely unnecessary plastic bottle full of water. 

“You know, they make reusable water bottles, nowadays,” you blurted out, your sarcasm taking over momentarily, the heat nearly making you forget where you were. You were at work. Of course rich people don’t care about using plastic water bottles. Ellie raised a curious brow, perfectly groomed with a small scar parting the arch. She didn’t even have to say anything—she just stood there, giving you that…look, and your eyes widened in surprise. She snatched the water bottle from your hand with such force that you flinched, the plastic crinkling almost louder than the sound of Tommy and Joel’s banter.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” you found yourself saying, eyes immediately falling to the ground. As she took a swig of water, Ellie couldn’t help but to notice this, and file it away in her brain for another time—the way she didn’t even have to say anything to you, and you were already so…

submissive. 

“Don’t call me Miss,” she said simply as she screwed the cap back on. You nodded, folding your hands together in front of you before looking back up to catch her gaze. 

“Yes, Ellie,” and her name came out like a drawl naturally…swear. The syllables rolled off your tongue and straight to your lower half, took you to a place so heavenly—your panties were growing wetter by the second, the press of your plush thighs getting tighter as you watched her expression. Her eyes darkened momentarily (or did she just squint at the sun?), and her posture shifted (maybe she got a cramp?). It was like she was trying to read your mind, and you were pretty sure she practically could as you watched her pretty pink tongue dart out to catch the wetness that remained on her lips—you found yourself salivating at the sight, having to quite literally force your jaw to stay closed. 

She was an asshole, sure—but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want to fuck her. 

“My clubs?” Ellie broke you out of your little fantasy by invading your presence, so close you were suddenly overwhelmed. She had set her clubs down in front of her when she took a drink of water, and it was now suddenly your job to hand them to her. “Do we need to clean out your ears or somethin’? Jesus.” She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, and you stammered. No, no, you’ve never had an unsatisfied member and you weren’t going to start now. Especially not with Ellie. You felt the urge to please her, go above and beyond and make sure she never had to lift a finger—but she was scoffing and reaching to grab her clubs before you could get out another word. 

“No, no, no Mi-” You caught yourself before you made yet another embarrassing mistake. For the second time. “Ellie. My apologies, I’ll follow you.” It was a bit proper, maybe a bit much…but you had to make it up to her, you had to. Whatever it takes. 

“I want my driver first. You do know which one that is, right?” And she was nasty, voice laced with venom as she called over her shoulder. When did she start walking away? And should your pussy be throbbing over that? You didn’t even respond as you lugged her bag over your shoulder, trailing behind her to catch up to Tommy and Joel. They were still bantering away when you approached, cursing and laughing and hitting each other, like brothers do. 

“Look who finally made it,” Ellie’s eyes rolled when you caught up, so quickly you almost missed it. You were like, fifteen steps behind her, there’s no way that was called for. You stayed silent as you unloaded the clubs off your shoulder, doing your best not to show any hint of negative emotion on your face, propping the bag up before pulling Ellie’s driver out. It was long, and heavy, like all the other expensive ones you’ve seen. All of her clubs looked shiny, you noted, like she had either never used them, or just got them polished. Either of which could be possible, as you’d yet to see her play. She grabbed it from you hastily, and you felt that familiar throb beneath your skirt. Get a fucking grip.

“Gotcha’ all set up here, kiddo,” Joel said enthusiastically, and Ellie didn’t even fake a smile. So, you just watched her take the shot. Boy, did you watch her take the shot. 

Watched the way she got so serious—okay, somehow more serious than before—the way she shuffled her feet behind the tee as she lined up her shot, the way her arms flexed and veins popped as she straightened out her arms, prepping to take the swing. The way she took a split second to glance back while she rotated her body to shoot you the most sickeningly devious wink before sending the ball flying across the course.

Tommy whistled and Joel offered a few strong claps. 

You couldn’t be quite sure that you wouldn’t melt into a puddle right here in the middle of the course. What is it about Ellie, your favorite member’s niece, that was getting you so worked up? For fucks sake, golf isn’t even a sexy sport! It couldn’t have at least been basketball, or something a bit more…normal that did it for you?

Instead, you got Ellie, in all her glory. Strong calves turned away from you as she watched her ball cut through the air, higher and faster and better than you’d ever seen Tommy or Joel hit. Not that they’d ever admit that. 

Your thoughts were getting dirtier by the minute as you watched Ellie play. You felt like a baby deer following her around the course, knees wobbling every time she barked another command at you. 

“Um, my water, please?”

“I said five iron, not six.”

“My ball is dirty. What ‘er you even good for?

You were slipping by the minute, letting your eyes linger over her frame a little longer each time you glanced her way. No way she wasn’t catching on. 

“Take a fucking picture, Princess, it’ll last longer.”

Oops.

And when you pulled back up to the clubhouse, it took everything in you to not just run off. Your heart was beating out of your chest, panties completely ruined with your slick, oh my god you were fucking perverted. You carefully helped Tommy, Joel, and Ellie load up their gear into their respective cars, keeping your mouth shut so as to not squeak out an embarrassing sound. In fact, you couldn’t be quite sure you wouldn’t just moan out loud if Ellie so much as even glanced in your direction unprompted. 

“Great game today, guys.” You smiled sweetly at Joel and Tommy who were now both leaned up against the side of the building, taking refuge from the sun. 

“Well thank ya, sweetheart! Glad you got a chance to meet Ellie today, too,” Joel smiled at you, reaching out to squeeze at your shoulder. “Ellie, why don’t you say thank you to our lovely caddy girl today?” He didn’t use your name, because why would he? You were a convenience to them. Now that you thought about it, Ellie probably didn’t even know your name. Let alone care. 

Her green eyes bore into you for a moment before she grunted out something that sounded suspiciously like a thank you, before tipping her head back to swallow the last of her water. The sight of her throat contracting had you practically running away to do something so devious, you might have to get down on your knees and pray before you went to sleep. 

And Ellie was only human, after all. She was curious, about a lot of things. But more specifically? At this moment? She was wondering where you were scurrying off to. Of course, you weren’t as good about hiding what physical reactions you’d been having to her for the past hour as you thought—the way you’d squirm whenever she caught you staring at her, or how your mouth opened ever so slightly, ever so submissively when she berated you. 

So wherever you were going must be good. 

And oh, was it good. 

Ellie couldn’t believe her eyes, as she trailed behind you. Each time you’d look back, she’d be sure to hide just perfectly out of your view around corners, behind tables….she couldn’t let you know how curious she was, no. Because you see, she was actually good about hiding these sorts of things. She was an asshole, but it wasn’t for no reason. She just couldn’t let you know how the sight of you practically drove her insane—the soft curve of your hips beneath that skirt, the rolls on your belly that led to the plush skin of your breasts that bounced so perfectly with every step you took. That would just ruin the fun of it. My god, were you a sight for Ellie’s sore eyes. 

So now, Ellie watched as you were slipping into a supply closet. Okay…? Perhaps, you had just forgotten something, then. Needed to grab something for another member, or left your bag in there before you started your shift. Nothing interesting. 

But no, Ellie was close enough now that you were safely behind the door, that she could hear the lock ‘click’ softly from inside the supply closet. 

Oh. Oh— she thought. 

And she couldn’t believe her ears, when she heard the faintest sigh. One that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than relief. 

And yeah, you were relieved. 

You couldn’t take it anymore—the last hour you spent with Ellie was absolute torture. Letting her talk down on you, and treat you like you were nothing to her…it shouldn’t have turned you on. You should be upset, embarrassed, angry, furious even. But you were wet. 

Holy fucking shit, you were wet. Your fingers trailed down your tummy as you leaned against the wall in the dark closet, barely illuminated by a tiny window at the top of one wall. Your breath was shaky, eyes closed as you lifted your short skirt, shoving your panties to the side before you felt the top of your fingers graze past your clit, sliding further and further in between your slick folds, so easily, so so easily. 

“Oh!” you caught yourself gasping as you played with yourself, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as a sickly, obscene wet sound began to fill the space of the small closet. This was so wrong…touching yourself at work, thinking about Ellie, so fucking desperate that you had to run away and relieve even just an ounce of the tension you felt inside. 

It only got worse when all you could think about was Ellie’s long fingers, the way they gripped the golf clubs so tenderly, and how you wished so badly that you could replace yours with hers as they slipped inside of you. Your head fell back against the metal rack behind you, and you had no right mind to react to what should have been pain. Instead, you pictured Ellie standing in front of you, and how her eyes would darken with lust as she pressed her body against yours, her hot breath fanning across your face as she fucked her fingers up into you…

And Ellie was going crazy, couldn’t help herself from getting closer and closer to that supply closet door. There was no one in this wing of the club, surely no one would walk by and see her with her ear pressed against a supply closet door…right? It mostly didn’t matter, as something deranged and perverted was consuming her brain. She found herself quite literally pressed against the door, she couldn’t help herself, she had to hear the way you moaned softly and gasped while you worked yourself closer and closer to your release. 

“Oh…oh Ellie!” You breathed wantonly, and Ellie could have cum on the spot. The wet sounds of your ministrations were getting faster and louder as your fingers pressed in and out of you with such force the rack behind you was beginning to rattle. Had you been in your right mind, you should have been mortified. You should have stopped right then and there, pulled yourself together and went home to the privacy of your own home and taken a long, cold shower. But all you could see was that stupid fucking smirk on Ellie’s face as she’d whisper: 

Just fucking cum for me, baby. 

And so you did, slapping your free hand over your mouth to muffle what surely would have been far too loud of a noise as you reached your peak, your body trembling almost violently as the high washed over you. 

Ellie was positively reeling, her ear still pressed to the door almost comically as she listened to you come undone. If anyone were to walk by at this moment it would look utterly suspicious, her all alone in the long hallway, surely looking suspect in her current position. Not to mention she should probably pull away before you had a chance to swing the door open, as she would have absolutely no excuse as to what she was doing here. 

Instead, Ellie continued to listen to your labored breaths as you came down, her pink lips parted softly as she felt her own wetness growing more and more unbearable beneath her shorts. Hell, had the purple silicone she had strapped to her hips been real, there would be absolutely no hiding what your sounds had done to her. She should move away, racing thoughts of oh my fucking god, and I wonder how easy it would be to make her sound like that again, but also to go back to Dad and go the fuck home, goddammit, this is absolutely sick, even for you and— 

“Ellie?!” 

She nearly fell forward from the weight of her body on the door when it swung inwards to reveal your absolutely mortified face, and even more terrified voice. Her eyes were like saucers, surely mirroring yours as you gaped at her, one hand still on the door to leave the possibility of slamming it right back in her face in humiliation. No, no no no no no way this was happening to you. 

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she staggered backwards in her surprise, leaving you both just staring each other down in what was surely the most awkward encounter either of you had ever had in your entire life. Her eyes quickly shifted downwards and she took another step back. 

“I- I was just- yeah, okay. Bye.” 

And she was gone. 

-- 

pt 2??????

[emphistic]

Cheek to Cheek

<- series m.list

“I think I know a way to make this evening more exciting,” a cool voice cut you off midway. “Mind if we join you?”

You knew that voice. When you turned around, you were met with the face of. . .

“Eileen?”

You weren’t expecting to meet your friend here, but it looked like she also had company herself. Standing behind her was a man you had never seen before; his copper-colored hair tousled, eyes darting all over the place, and hands fidgeting like crazy. You would’ve assumed he was Eileen’s boyfriend, but on second thought, he was the complete opposite of her type.

Before you could get out another word, Eileen turned her full attention on your boyfriend. “Hi, I’m Eileen. Eileen Mifune. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

The blonde spoke with a strangely smooth voice you had never heard her use, even after having been friends for a little over three years. She was always an overly serious, elegantly sharp woman, but right now, it sounded as if she was flirting, or even trying to seduce your boyfriend. The idea wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounds, if you had to be completely honest.

Sukuna turned to face your friend with an indifferent expression on his face. “No, we haven’t.”

Surprised by his curt reply, Eileen looked as if she was waiting for Sukuna to give his name in introduction, but it never came.

For some reason, the tension in the room was slowly rising. And, since you were the mutual friend, you thought it only right if you introduced everyone to each other. “Eileen, this is Sukuna, my friend—boyfriend,” you let out a cough to disguise your slip up. “And, well, Sukuna, you already know her name. But, uhm, shouldn’t you introduce us to—?”

“Oh, him?” Eileen turned around, jutting a thumb at the man behind her. “He’s my cousin, just in case you were getting any other ideas. If he wasn’t, he definitely wouldn’t be my type, F.Y.I. But,” Eileen’s voice took an excessively sweet tone as she turned back to Sukuna, “I know someone who is.”

Eileen placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm and he immediately responded with a grimace, shrugging her off. Your friend had been a natural born flirt from the start; this behavior wasn’t unusual for her. But that didn’t mean it was okay; Sukuna was technically your boyfriend. Fake or not. And besides, it’s not like she knew your guys’ arrangement.

Even after getting blatantly rejected, Eileen brushed it off with a soft laugh, as if she wasn’t affected. And, without missing a beat, she sat herself down at your and Sukuna’s table. To be more specific, she chose to sit right beside Sukuna, who appeared more annoyed than anything.

When Eileen noticed her cousin was still awkwardly standing by, she couldn’t help the scowl that made its way onto her face. “Well? Are you just going to stand there like a stranger?”

The “stranger” decided to sit down, though reluctantly, and ignored all eye contact as he did so. Coincidentally, he chose the seat right next to you. And, after looking at him for a bit, he really looked like he didn’t want to be there, but he had no choice.

Sukuna called the waiter for another round of drinks, and from there, the conversation gradually began to pick up again. Sukuna was a naturally charismatic guy, and though he clearly didn’t like the extra company, he did like having an excuse to talk about himself.

While Sukuna was doing that, you turned to the copper-haired man beside you. “Hey, uhm, you never told us your name.” You quickly introduced yourself as Eileen’s friend, and he decided to do the same.

“Naoki. Eileen already told you, but, yeah, we’re cousins.”

You could see a faint smile forming on Naoki’s lips as he continued on. “That’s a nice name, Naoki. So, how come you and Eileen are here tonight? Out for drinks?”

“Ah, not really. Eileen and I were just walking down the street, and she spotted you through the window. Told me she hadn’t seen you in weeks and wanted to say ‘hi’.”

You couldn’t help but note that Eileen never actually said ‘hi’ to you, or any sort of greeting in general. Since entering the bar, she had been totally ignoring you except for a few short responses here and there, but that was it. The blonde had been completely immersed in conversation with Sukuna ever since, she seemed to laugh at every little thing he said or did.

Though it was a little odd, you didn’t want to start up an argument over it. So you acted as if nothing was amiss, and smiled at Naoki. “I haven’t seen you around here before, do you live far?”

Naoki laughed, “No, just a visitor. I’ll only be here for a week or so. I’ve been checking out possible apartments and homes, y’know. Looking for a place to stay and all that.”

As he spoke, Naoki slowly but surely seemed to gain confidence. Compared to how he was when you first noticed him, you would’ve mistaken him for two different people.

“Oh! So Eileen’s been showing you around the city? That’s nice of her.”

In reply, Naoki nodded. “Say, was I hearing you right when you introduced Sukuna as your . . . boyfriend?” The tips of his ears started to redden as he asked his question, and you couldn’t help but also flush a bit at how unexpected it was.

“. . .That’s right.”

Naoki’s smile seemed to drop after hearing your confirmation, but he composed himself so quickly afterwards that you almost missed it.

There was an awkwardness between you and Naoki for a few moments, but after you changed the subject, the rest of the evening went by pretty fast. You gained a new friend, and Sukuna got to boast all night long. But, while you were busy getting to know Naoki, you missed the way Sukuna’s stare was practically burning two holes in the back of your head.

Although Eileen and him did share some things in common, and their conversation wasn’t as boring as he thought it would be, Sukuna still thought that she was probably the most annoying woman he ever had to sit next to.

Her hand brushed his so many times that he wanted to flip the table over. Every time she tried to subtly scooch closer to him, Sukuna moved backwards. It happened so frequently, that by the end of night, Sukuna was practically sitting on top of you. And if it meant he would be far away from Eileen, you best believe he would sit on you.

And if that wasn’t enough, Sukuna thought Naoki was just as bad (even though they never said even a word to each other). He could tell, from the moment he noticed the copper-haired guy, that Naoki was gonna be nothing but trouble for him. Sukuna knew better than anyone that the reason Naoki was so fidgety was probably because he was sitting next to you.

He’s definitely never touched a woman in his life, Sukuna thought. Was that mean of him to think? Yes. But this is Sukuna we’re talking about, what did you expect?

-

“So, what did you think of Eileen yesterday?” you asked, plopping yourself down beside Sukuna on the couch.

“She might be the second bane of my existence.” Sukuna passed you the remote.

“Second?” You raised a brow.

Sukuna wrapped an arm around the back of the couch, turning to you with an expressionless face. “You’re the first.”

You scoffed, “Excuse me?”

“Pfft—what did you expect? I mean, I generously pass you the remote and you have the audacity to turn on some fuckass romance movie.”

You gasped, unable to believe your ears. “Pride and Prejudice (2005) is not some fuckass romance movie. You take that back right now.”

“It’s about some stupid girl and some rich guy. It can not be as good as you think it is.”

“You haven’t read or watched it! How would you know?”

Sukuna shrugged. “Whatever. What’s it actually about, then, Miss Know-it-all?”

You seriously could not believe this guy, but before you knew it, you were rambling on with abandon.

“It’s a love story between two people of completely opposite status who have to overcome their prejudices and pride. Elizabeth comes from a less fortunate family than Mr. Darcy, and, because of that, a lot of problems ensue.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Just ‘cause she’s poor?”

“Yeah, Mr. Darcy’s pretty prideful, huh,” you laughed, referencing the title.

“Sounds like a dick.”

“He’s hot, though, so it kind of makes up for it.”

Shaking his head, Sukuna said, “You have no self respect.”

“Joking, joking. But, ah, yeah. He is kind of a dick. I mean, he interferes with his best friend’s love life. Even when Mr. Bingley was at the peak of his relationship with Jane, Darcy decided to butt in because he felt that Jane didn’t return Bingley’s affection.”

You subconsciously fidgeted with the ends of the blanket draped over your body as you explained the plot of the movie which had yet to unpause.

“Anyways, Darcy convinces Bingley to leave Hertfordshire, and that kind of sends Jane into a spiral.”

“So, she’s depressed. Because of some man who’s basically breaking up with her?”

“Sukuna, you’re a man.”

“. . .”

“Okay, uhm. Where did I leave off? Oh, right. So Elizabeth basically gets invited by her aunt to go on this Northern tour or something, I forgot what it was exactly, but, something like that. One of their “sightseeing destinations” was Pemberley, which is Mr. Darcy’s estate.”

Sukuna leaned closer to you, clearly invested in the story. “Oh shit.”

“I know right? So, originally, Mr. Darcy wasn’t supposed to be at home while Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle were there; he was taking care of business, I believe? But then, he was; he arrived, I guess.”

“Oh shit.”

You nodded, continuing your story.

Putting aside the moments where Sukuna gave his two cents, you noticed he was actually giving you his undivided attention whilst you talked about some book he swore up and down was probably boring as shit. And, as a matter of fact, Sukuna was rarely this quiet. Maybe he just really likes drama, you thought. But you were wrong.

Because your eyes were focused on your lap the whole time you spoiled Pride and Prejudice, you didn’t notice the way Sukuna’s eyes were on you all the while. He found it cute the way you got a subtle twinkle in your eye whenever you talked of something you were passionate about. And the way you looked as if you were reminiscing about whatever it was that occupied your mind.

Yeah, Pride and Prejudice didn’t really tickle his fancy, but you did. So it worked out in the end. You got to ramble about an interest of yours, and Sukuna got a chance to admire his girlfriend with no interruption.

Bringing Sukuna out of his train of thought was your sudden and exaggerated groan. “Ugh, I think I skipped some parts while explaining.”

Sukuna shrugged, “I’ll just see it in the movie, then.”

The hours rolled past as the movie started, but you noticed, from the corner of your eye, that Sukuna was hardly paying any attention to the movie. Rather, he was staring at you. In fact, he didn’t even notice when you looked back at him.

Weird, you thought, we’re at the good part.

Ignoring how badly you wanted to keep watching Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth together, you paused the movie and turned to Sukuna. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Nothing?”

You cocked your head to the side, an expecting look on your face. “You’re a terrible liar . . . by the way. What’s on your mind?”

“. . .If we’re supposed to be a ‘successful couple’, we should probably kiss every now and then, right?”

Well, that was totally unexpected. You thought Sukuna was going to say something about how boring the movie was, how shit the actors were, but you couldn’t have been farther from the truth. For a minute, you were completely stunned, your cheeks warming, and your eyes widening ever so slightly.

Sukuna looked a bit flustered himself, as well. He avoided your eyes—but, not like you noticed; you were looking all over the place, too—and swallowed the lump in his throat, before turning back to stare at the TV and unpause the movie.

“Forget it,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked like a sulky child that didn’t get what he wanted, it was cute.

You shook your head, getting out of your trance. And when you regained the ability to move, you quickly snatched the remote from Sukuna’s tight grip and paused the movie once more. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, you thought, will just have to wait.

“Babe, I said, ‘Forget it’.”

Unpause.

“Sukuna, no.”

Pause.

“Sukuna, yes.”

Unpause.

For some strange reason, all of a sudden, a battle of unpausing and pausing Pride and Prejudice (2005) began between you and Sukuna. Sure, you had fought for the remote with your siblings when you were a kid, but this was totally different. Back then, you were fighting to pick the movie. Now, you were fighting to talk about kissing your best friend. While Sukuna was fighting to not talk about kissing his best friend.

It was really silly.

You chased a remote-wielding Sukuna around the apartment for approximately ten minutes before you finally gave up, and stopped to catch your breath. Maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated someone who used to run track in high school, you mentally facepalmed.

“Okay, okay, let’s call a truce,” you raised your hands in surrender. “I—” you wheezed, “I didn’t know you were so invested in Pride and Prejudice that you would run off just to have the movie unpaused.”

Sukuna eyed you warily, still gripping the remote in his hand as if his life depended on it. “Is that supposed to be your attempt at a joke?”

You frowned, “You’re hurting my feelings.”

To your surprise, Sukuna actually looked like he was about to apologize. He opened and closed his mouth, and, overall, seemed like a fish out of water. Geez, he must be taking the boyfriend role very seriously.

Seizing your one in a million chance, you tackled Sukuna down onto the kitchen floor, straddling his thighs, and successfully snatched the remote from his hand. All in the blink of an eye.

“You should never let your guard down, ‘Kuna,” you laughed.

Sukuna, looking unamused, merely scoffed. “I was actually being considerate of your feelings, and you used that to your advantage? What a wicked woman you are.”

“It takes one to know one.”

“Oh,” Sukuna raised a brow, “so I’m a woman, now?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Sukuna shrugged.

“Okay, anyway. We have to talk about it. I mean,” you paused, heat rising to your cheeks, “I’ve been thinking about it, too, y’know. Couples kiss, and—and we’re a couple. If I’m gonna lift this curse, we’re gonna have to sell this act, Sukuna.”

Sukuna covered his eyes with his hand, stifling a laugh as the corners of his mouth tugged into a grin. “Whatever you say, silly girl.”

“Uhm, so, how are we going to do this, exactly?”

“Do what?”

“. . .Kiss. . .”

Sukuna stared back at you. “Who said we were kissing?”

“I mean, we’ve gotta fool these dating gods so they can, like, rid me of this godforsaken curse. And, if we’re a couple, we’re gonna have to kiss like one.”

“So you’re suggesting we . . . ‘practice’?”

“Well, yeah. . . Practice makes perfect.” You folded your hands on your lap, eyes darting around the room endlessly.

A pregnant pause ensued, where neither you nor Sukuna wanted to be the next one to speak up. But, eventually, Sukuna sat up, and shifted you to a more comfortable position sitting on his lap.

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re so tense.”

You bit your lip, whisper-shouting, “How am I supposed to relax?”

“Pfft. It’s almost as if there’s a rock sitting on top of me,” joked Sukuna.

“Okay, if you’re just here to make fun of me, then you can leave—mmph!”

Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and cut you off with a kiss that managed to make you feel like jelly in his grasp, despite how chaste it was. Yet, you couldn’t help the goofy expression that formed on your face soon afterwards.

“Is that it?” you teased, grinning ear to ear.

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “The fuck is your—”

Now was your turn to cut Sukuna off with another kiss, more ardent than the last. You gripped the collar of his hoodie and pulled his face closer to yours, your noses knocking into each other as you two clumsily locked lips for what felt like hours.

“Simply Platonic Kissing Practice” is what you called this in your head despite the obvious sensation of Sukuna deepening the kiss ever so slightly. You felt a warm, buzzy feeling inside, as if you had just drank some liquor. All feeling was increased immensely, and every time Sukuna’s hands traveled from the back of your neck, to gripping your chin, to traveling down the small of your back, you couldn’t help pressing your body impossibly closer to his.

But yes, this was still “Simply Platonic Kissing Practice” between friends, nevertheless. And, it didn’t matter if it was sloppy, or messy, there would always be other opportunities for you two to get better, to learn each other’s patterns, habits, sweet spots. But those opportunities simply weren’t available right now. Because. . .

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Sukuna didn’t pull away right after he heard the buzzing of a phone, but his grip on your hips did loosen just a little. You didn’t notice it; it was a miniscule difference; but it happened.

Slightly annoyed, you let go of Sukuna’s hoodie, and wiped your mouth with the back of your palm as you straightened your back. “Is that mine?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yours.”

You begrudgingly got up from your position on the floor, and huffed as you walked around the apartment, looking for your phone. “It better not be work,” you muttered.

You answered just before the last ring sounded, and forced out a clearly irritated greeting. “Hello?”

A familiar voice came from the other line.

[kaeichi]

love is in the air.

. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.

series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.

prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03

⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]

TWO YEARS AGO

“ah…found you, finally.” 

nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.

“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.

“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.

except nothing about this is right at all. 

there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.

you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.

being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?

“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”

“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.

“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”

here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one. 

when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.

but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.

nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.

could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).

what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom? 

“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”

“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi’s head.

“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”

“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”

“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”

“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”

“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.

it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”

“nagi.”

confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”

“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”

for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.

nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless. 

the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—

“leave me alone, nagi.”

—it's suffocating.

PRESENT

nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.

in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.

after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.

“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.

at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).

however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)

however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.

truly, a waste that is.

“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.

“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.

“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”

“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.

“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”

nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”

leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—” 

he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with). 

however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”

“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.

“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?” 

his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”

“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”

a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”

“ah, fair.”

“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”

“not even as our manager?”

“nope.”

nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.

…probably.

“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”

that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”

you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”

sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.

would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway. 

for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.

…like right now, for instance.

when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.

“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”

he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”

“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.

but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.

by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.

other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.

“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.

that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?” 

ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.

a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.

“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.

“you didn’t answer my question…”

“hm. did you?”

“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—

“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”

you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?” 

“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.

…what.

this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”

“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”

“like…?”

“spontaneous functional impairment?”

i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”

reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to. 

(at least you think so, anyway.)

“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”

“piss off, mikage.”

reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?

“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”

but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”

since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.

on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).

after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.

nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot. 

“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”

nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”

after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.

you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.

a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”

“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you? 

you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.

len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.

just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.

well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.

for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.

not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.

absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.

“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!” 

the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.

nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.

…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—

but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.

for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.

it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up. 

“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”

when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.

“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”

“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”

from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.

strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.

taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)

[miguelswifey04]

May I request Miguel “The wilderness must be explored” O’Hara insisting on eating the reader out even though the reader hasn’t had time to go get their usual waxing done?

oh god yes! i love your brain 🧠 <3

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“relax, i don’t care if you’ve waxed or not.” miguel rolled his eyes in a playful manner as he gripped onto your plush thighs. his fingers were digging into the edges of your thighs as they dipped into the pillowy areas—leaving finger marks. you slightly closed your legs on his face as you felt your cheeks warm up at his comment.

“but—miguel, i really haven’t waxed wouldn’t that make you feel—” miguel cut you off as his grip loosened a bit and went up to meet your face as he gave you a soft kiss against your lips, “i promise you, i don’t care whether you have shaved or not. please let me taste you, sweetheart.” he reassured you multiple times as he promised you he didn’t mind at all. you simply nodded while you felt yourself get wetter as miguel traced hot hungry kisses on your breasts for more reassurance. he did so to ease your nervousness. he tore your bra off in one swift motion and he massaged your small perky breasts, bringing his face up close. he always praised for how beautiful and perfect you were in his eyes no matter what. he then took one breast in his hand while he latched his lips onto your other hardened peak. he suckled gently and harshly earning moans from your pretty mouth. he took his time with you as his main focused was to play and caresses your nipples. he loved how wet you’d get every time he’d give attention to your perky breasts, and with that miguel teasingly brought his hand down to your damp panties. he could feel how swollen your clit was as he gently circled your clit with your fingers in a teasing manner. your body trembled and jolted from the immense pleasure…it was pretty stimulating since you were always so sensitive.

“ah, sensitive as always, don’t worry you’ll be screaming my name when i eat you out.” miguel’s lips left your hardened peaks with a pop as he lowered himself down to your wet panties. god he could smell just how wet you were which made his cock harden and slightly twitch within the confines of his boxers. “you smell so good…”

with one hook of his fingers miguel brought your panties to the side seeing a few strings of your wetness connected to your panties. you were a mess and to say you were also nervous was an understatement. this was your first time miguel was going to eat you out where you haven’t shaved at all. miguel looks up at you with hungry and lust in his eyes. all you could do was nod giving him your permission to eat you out. so, miguel grabbed the back of your thighs angling your knees to meet your chest so he could have the perfect view of your hairy pussy. he couldn’t lie to himself the view of your hairy pussy made him harder than other times where you’ve shaved. his warm breath ghosting against your most intimate of areas. he could see the way your pussy and the tight hole of your ass clench around over nothing.

without hesitation, his tongue darts out to swipe along your folds, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. his movements are purposeful, his tongue skillfully exploring every sensitive spot, flicking and teasing with precision. “you taste so fucking good, muñeca.”

the sensation is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. miguel’s devotion to your pleasure is evident in his fervent efforts, each lick and caress driving you closer to the edge. his hands wander, exploring your curves and guiding you towards the peak of ecstasy. while miguel laps up the excess juices that spilled out from your pussy, he brought his other hand where his thumb rubbed small gentle circles on your other hole. he would casually dip his thumb inside the tight hole of your ass as you moaned out his name. “mmm-mmiguel mmmmm, deeper-” he always liked to give you the upmost pleasure and he loved seeing you so weak under his control. he fingered your ass with his thumb while focusing on making out with your pretty hairy pussy.

moans of delight escape your lips as his skilled tongue brings you to the brink of release, the intensity building within you. the power and control you exert over miguel, even in this role reversal, fuels your desire further, heightening the pleasure coursing through your veins. he would dip a couple fingers inside your soaking pussy that was coated with his saliva as he continued to suck and circle his tongue against your clit. your thighs squeeze his face as he grunts over on your swollen clit.

as you reach your climax, you whole body convulses as you feel the warm rush of your essence coating miguel’s face. he continues to lap up your essence with unyielding dedication, his own desire evident in the way he devours every drop. he slightly let’s go of your legs as you meet his gaze. his chin is wet from your essence and he licks his fingers all clean right in front of you. “you always taste so good…but i’m not done with you wet.” your face contorts in a confused look as miguel brings you closer to the edge of the bed as he stands up right in front of you. “get ready because i can go for a couple rounds.”

———

a/n: good god 😩