#i have a nice relaxing day and then in the evening I decide to think about all the bad stuff and kill it all

[bigwishes]

Hey dude ! So i've been having this problem recently while playing CoD online recently. This guy in my group keeps belching into his mic constantly and it's really distracting. I don't even know what's gotten to him, he used to talk normally but now he sounds like a total jock bro. And it's starting to affect our team's performances.

The worst part is that i'm starting to feel like i can .... smell his bo ... like, through my mic. I just wish i wasn't bothered by his belches and his stink, you know ?

Sorry to hear that bro, It can suck when people can be annoying when trying to relax gaming online, but I'll be nice and give you exactly what you want, you won't be bothered by his stink and belching anymore... You finish up a match with your least favourite person to run into online, you say "GG" into the mic and pull up the menu to quit before the ending screen has even finished. You already know what's coming seeing the gamer tags in your lobby, as you scroll down to 'quit game' a loud sound breaks out over lobby call, "BUUUUUURRRRRRRRPP- ugh, gg bro"

You grimace at the noise and press exit before he can fire off again, this dude had been bugging you for days, leaving his mic open you could hear every time he took a sip of his shake or a bite of his food between respawns, but the worst was his constant belching in between call outs or even small talk, but burping wasn't really a reportable offence and he when he actually gave call outs it was good information so you just had to put up with it instead of muting him, still you hoped every game you loaded into you'd be hoping you wouldn't see his gamer tag on your team.

You pressed play again and sat there staring at the que timer waiting. Whilst you sat there you felt a little uncomfortable the room suddenly felt hotter and you began to sweat from under your jumper. A few minutes went by before you decided it was unbearable and you took off your jumper and smelt the strong whiff of musk and saw a small sweat mark start to appear on your t-shirt under your armpit. You hadn't realised you'd been so sweaty and you got up to go change your shirt when you suddenly got into a game, there was not time to change now and you'd have to wait till after the match.

Loading in you let out a sigh of relief seeing the infamous belcher wasn't on your team and so you gladly jumped in call to talk to your team. The game was rough, not for how hard it was to beat the enemy team but you felt strange and uncomfortable the whole time. Your shirt was feeling tighter than usual and you could feel the fabric cling to the sweat on your back. You felt the heat building up in your sweat pants as the fluffy wool chaffed against you thighs which felt like they were now stretching out your pants. At one point you even ripped off your socks hoping that'd start to cool you down, which it didn't. The match ended and you left the game. Taking the back on your hand and wiping it across your forehead you felt the sweat brush off, letting out a deep breath placing your controller on the coffee table in front of you, you saw the sweaty handprints left behind which you only ever saw one the hottest days of summer.

Letting out a deep sigh you stood up and tried to take your shirt off feeling it stick to your skin and the potent smell of musk flowing out from your pits as your arms were above your head. You dropped your shirt on the floor and looked down seeing your chest had pushed out into strong defined pecs and somehow you got abs within the last 20 minutes.

"Ho-holy shit" you laughed as you rubbed your new wash board abs

You scrambled to pull down your grey sweat pants and you weren't disappointed, strong muscled thighs you fell back down to your seat letting out a chuckle as you started feeling up your massive thighs. Thousands of thoughts were flowing through your head, what was happening? HOW did this happen? thinking back on your day trying to remember anything that would have you suddenly turn into a hot fitness model,

but one thought was stronger than the others, you didn't even have to lift up you arm to smell the stench coming from your pits, you smelt like you haven't showered in 2 days and had run a marathon. You leant forward to cancel the que when suddenly the words GAME FOUND appeared at the top of the screen. You thought it'd probably be best to dodge the game and take a shower.....but then again it was your day off and nobody could smell you so it could probably wait until after the game.

You played another round, trying not to focus on the smell of bo in the air around you and eventually you forgot about it all together, you were so focused on the game you didn't even notice yourself constantly shifting in your seat as you tried to make yourself comfortable, reaching back and pulling at your underwear waist band every couple of minutes, not even noticing it was drenched in sweat.

The game ended and you stood up, feeling as your sweaty ass peeled itself off the couch like some kind of wet Velcro, you felt heavy, like your body had put on more size and your stomach grumbled as you felt like you could eat a whole pizza to yourself.

DING DONG

You walked over to your door and opened it to see a pizza delivery guy standing there, you couldn't remember ordering one?

"whoa" the delivery man said as he turned his head to the side holding his nose "here you go dude"

The pizza box was shoved into your hands,

"errr, lemme grab my wallet I guess" you calmly said, forgetting you were standing there in your underwear

"Don't worry about it dude, its all pre paid" the delivery man practically shouted it at you as he backed away

You wondered what his problem was but thought it best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You shut the door and made your way back to your seat, opening up the box and grabbing a slice and stuffing it in your mouth. Sitting back down you felt the cold as the wet patch on your seat collide with you, you felt it squelch down as the stuffing in the seat was so drenched with sweat.

Game found appeared on the top of the screen and you looked at the pizza slice in your hand. You shoved the whole slice in your mouth and desperately looked around for something to wipe the grease off on, the only thing you could think of was your underwear which barely worked but you thought it did so you picked up your controller covering it with a layer of sweat and grease.

"hey, who's chewing?" someone said over mic

You didn't even realise you had joined the chat, loudly chewing on your food into the open mic.

You played through the game almost an autopilot, just enjoying the sounds of shooting guns, although you'd wish people would stop bitching about whoever was chewing on open mic, they should just mute whoever it is and move on...

Afterwards you walked over to your bench, you felt so stuffed after eating a whole family size pizza in 10 minutes but at the same time you could go for a drink, as you stood up you felt so heavy and puffy, like you were swollen. You walked over to your kitchen ignoring the sound of your large sweating feet slapping against your floor. You turned on your tap and turned your head sideways gulping down mouthfuls of water. The water spilled out and ran down the side of your mouth as you gulped and swallowed, gasping for air in-between mouthfuls, as you stood up right again mid mouthful having had your fill and the water spilled out of your slack jaw and ran down your chest. You gut groaned and you leant forward on your counter top rubbing your abs,

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP

You gasped for air after letting out the loudest belch of your life, the water on your lips and chin still dripping off your face forming little droplets on your counter top,

uuUURP

you let out another smaller belch as you reached around to scratch your sweaty ass. You began making your way back over to your game wanting to play another round, each step was strange, like you were getting heavier and heavier, heaving your floor creak. Your chest and jaw were itchy and as you scratched you felt stubble poking out of your skin and felt as sweat and grease got trapped under your nails.

Reaching your chair you grabbed onto the back of it, needing to catch your breath almost exhausted from the 20 steps you had taken. You spun your gaming chair around and threw your entire weight into it, a large strenuous noise rang out from every joint, screw and bolt, like the chair almost crumbled under you. Jiggling in your place you felt sweat be pushed out of the seat like squeezing a wet sponge as your ass made its way into the massive groove you had created.

Picking up your controller you felt the greasy surface connect with your hand. Your chest began to itch again and you took the edge of the controller and rubbed it against you chest hair.

You hadn't noticed but as you walked over to your seat you had gotten bigger, and hairier, the stench coming off your skin was now not just drifting through the air but it was clinging to you, getting stuck in your new hairy body quickly making you smell worse.

game found appeared on the screen and you quickly lost interest in how hair you had become.

"hey what's going on team" a dude called out

you opened your mouth to respond but instead

BUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

You let out a loud monstrous belch, you felt it vibrate in your chest and thighs, you felt it as your shoulder blades creeped up above the top of your gaming chair and as your thighs were pushed together as they got thicker but had nowhere to go but inwards forcing you to close your man spread. The chair under you groaned and you couldn't help but groan along with it as you felt so heavy and big, like you were being weighed down by a car.

"bro could you not burp in mic?" someone complained

"sorre-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPPPP" You just couldn't help it, you couldn't even get through your words without letting yourself burp like a pig.

two of your team mates instantly left the voice call and the two that remained began to complain about how rude it was to do that over open mic. You weren't really paying attention to them though as you laughed thinking to yourself they were probably two dudes who were a quarter of your size.

Days went by and you didn't notice how bad thing were, you floor covered in pizza boxes, a large mark on your coffee table had formed like someone had forgotten to put something under a drink but it was from you putting up your large feet. Energy cans were on the ground around your chair from just being tossed down to the floor when you were done. Your controller itself started to come undone at the joins from being gripped by your enormous ape like hands,

but you didn't notice any of it because you didn't give a fuck, the only things you cared about now was being big, playing CoD.

You'd become a mindless muscle slob who was, belching and sweating like a pig.

I'm sure you won't care next time a guy burps on mic, in fact it might even be a turn on for you now. Better focus up muscle pig you just got another game.

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒: 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

𝐂𝐖: bullying, fighting, slight mention of blood (bloody nose)

𝐀/𝐍: me after writing this in one day :3 sleep? nuh uh

𝐖𝐂: 5,100 +

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

the morning air felt perfect against your face as you resisted falling back asleep while standing in front of aphmau’s house. the red door that distantly stood in your vision reminded you of last evening, when you felt much less calm than now.

you hold your breath as you slowly turn to look behind you, scanning the quiet street. the black vehicle no longer stood out against your vision, your eyes only meeting vacant asphalt where it had been before. 

the early morning sun still felt cool as it reflected off the puddles on the ground, evidence of last night’s rainy storm. your lungs shakily deflate as you relax, focusing on the morning birdsong and distant cars passing on a main street nearby.

clearing your throat, you decide to just text aphmau to ask what was taking so long. your messages immediately pull up to last night’s conversation.

laurance: hey, i have to walk to school tomorrow cause my sister isn’t going

laurance: want to meet up and walk together tomorrow?

aphmau: yeah!

you: yeah for sure! meet in front of aph’s at 7:40.

laurance: cool, i’ll see you guys in the morning!

aphmau: goodnight!

you: goodnight guys :)

read yesterday, 9:20 pm

you hum to yourself, tapping your shoe against the sidewalk as you switch to your messages with aphmau.

you: i’m out front, you almost ready?

aphmau: yeah, so sorry! got distracted ><

aphmau: i’ll be outside in a sec

you: no prob!

it’s only a minute later that aphmau appears from her front door, hair bouncing as she quickly jogs down the steps and stops in front of you. her hair is down today, falling in light, natural-looking curls against her shoulder. 

“i woke up late and didn’t feel like styling my hair,” she explains, patting down her loose strands when she notices your gaze directed on her head.

“it’s pretty,” you simply return, reassuring her with a smile and a nod.

she relaxes, muttering a “thank you,” before rubbing her eyes with a yawn.

“did you stay up late or something?”

aphmau freezes, before slowly nodding her head.

“uh, yeah… there’s this online friend i have. i accidentally stayed up too late with him playing our favorite game together.”

you make a small “ooohh” sound in return.

“that’s fun. have y’all been friends for a long time?”

“yeah! like, two years.”

“aw, that’s nice. what does he look like, what’s his name?”

“uhhh…”

you blink, staring at her expectantly.

“well, we don’t know what each other looks like… and his online name is fc.” she admits, pressing her lips together and tugging on a strand of her hair. 

“…you’ve been friends for two years but you don’t even know each other's names? what if he’s some random old man?”

aphmau huffs, crossing her arms.

“well, i mean… i think it’s safer if we’re both anonymous. besides, we’re just friends.”

you hum, tilting your head in thought.

“yeah. i guess you’re right.”

aphmau bites her lip, eyebrows pinching together as she looks away in thought. she glances back at you hesitantly, like she was debating whether she should bring something up to you or not.

“what is it?”

“…i’m just nervous about the whole ivy situation.”

you sigh, biting your lip as you stare down at your feet in thought.

“she’s smart about how she’s doing it. no witnesses, holding the risk of our reputations over our heads. we need to find a way to get her caught without making it obvious.”

“morning!” laurance calls from behind you, his voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.

you turn to greet the boy, taking in his appearance. he seemed to have rushed this morning, the tie to his uniform slightly undone and hair still mussed from sleep.

“we’ll figure something out later,” you whisper to aphmau, to which she nods briskly.

“what’s up?” he asks, noticing your hushed voices and secretive formation.

“we’re having a secret girl meeting. without you.”

his eyebrows raise in surprise before he barks out a small laugh in amusement.

“fair enough.”

☆

you haven’t seen aphmau for most of the day since you parted from her at the school’s front doors—and it was something that was bothering you.

based on the smug tilt of ivy’s lips when she watched you walk into your homeroom this morning, you have a serious feeling she’s up to something, and you definitely prefer to be with aphmau when it happens.

does she genuinely not have anything better to do?

your stomach feels heavy as you enter the art classroom, especially when your eyes land on the kind-natured blonde who smiles and waves at your appearance. you feel bad at the tempting thought to ignore his welcoming face and sit on the other side of the classroom, just to avoid the wrath of the snake who now stays wrapped up in your thoughts.

your jaw sets in place, stubbornly throwing away the idea as soon as it enters your head. it’s not his fault, and you weren’t going to throw away your chance at a new friend group because of some girl’s crazy crush. 

“hey guys,” you greet your small friend group, sitting between laurance and aphmau and leaning over to smile at garroth.

your eyes stay trained on aphmau’s for an extra moment longer as you lean back. she merely blinks, smiling calmly at your silent questioning. she hasn’t had any run-ins, then. good.

“ok, class. today we’re going to practice by doing a figure-drawing exercise. would anyone like to be a model for the class?”

you blink in surprise as aphmau’s hand raises, volunteering with an, “i will!”

“not as shy as i thought,” laurance notes as aphmau strides her short legs to the center of the classroom, hoisting herself up onto the stool.

“anxious but extroverted. an interesting combo,” you conclude his thought with a laugh as garroth scoots closer to the two of you.

the three of you start your portraits, your chatter quieting as you focus on the drawings in front of you. occasionally, garroth glances at yours and laurance’s pages, his lips forming into a pout out of the corner of your eye. you turn to look at him, tilting your head forward to catch his eye as he glares down at his paper.

“what?” you question him simply, your smile light and teasing.

his eyes nervously dart to you, unable to escape as you lean into his vision.

“ugh,” he groans, scribbling his graphite harshly against the page. “i’m just not good at art.”

he hides his work from you with his arm as you lean forward, trying to get a glance at his page.

“i’m sure it’s not that bad,” you encourage, lightly tugging on his forearm.

his ears turn red, barely hidden by the medium-length sandy blonde strands that curled around them. he sighs in defeat, lifting his arm to reveal the crude drawing underneath. laurance immediately giggles in amusement from beside you, his hand muffling the noise as he glances over your shoulder. 

garroth turns to glare at him, and you deliver a light kick to the boy’s shin with a scolding look.

“no, yeah. it’s not that bad!” laurance says between laughs, before snorting as he looks down at the page again. “not bad at all.”

you pitifully glance back at garroth who was now blankly staring at his page, the corner of his lips turning down in an embarrassed smile.

“well… i see his potential. if he practiced-”

“aw, i think you’re too sweet on him,” laurance leans into you, ruffling your hair with a grin. “no need to lie.”

“don’t be rude! everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

laurance glances down at your page with a pointed look and raised eyebrows. 

“funny, coming from clearly the best artist out of the three of us. no need to be humble.”

you sigh, exasperated at laurance’s teasing nature.

“yeah, you’re way better than i could be, even if i practiced,” garroth glances over at your sketch.

“well, i practice art a lot as a hobby. if i went out and tried to play baseball or soccer i’d probably never be on either of your levels. it’s not a bad thing, i’ve just never played.”

garroth purses his lips, still staring down your and laurance’s pages.

“can you teach me?”

“huh?”

“can you give me some tips on how to draw better?”

you blink, before nodding with a smile. “yeah, sure. maybe you two can teach me to play your sports as payment.”

he smiles, and laurance ruffles your hair once more before leaning off of you.

“sure, sounds like a good deal to me. speaking of, laurance, how’s the soccer team looking this year?”

“you play soccer?” aphmau questions, returning back to her place as garroth makes room for her.

“yep! i’m the captain this year.”

“woah, awesome!”

“yeah, and i haven’t forgotten about the schedule. i’ll give one to both of you when it comes out.”

“like you don’t have fan girls lining up to watch you already,” garroth rolls his eyes. “looking to add to your collection.”

“hey! this is different,” laurance pouts. “and you’re one to talk about fangirls.”

you make eye contact with aphmau, who gives you a look that says, “no, seriously.”

“and to answer your question,” he sighs. “the team is a mess this year. all our good players graduated last year. we’ll be lucky to make it through the season in one piece. what about you?”

“meh, it’s fine so far. dante’s been coming to practice and he’s not half bad. we might have a decent lineup.”

that was that gene guy’s little brother, right? you haven’t met him yet.

the bell interrupts your conversation, signaling the beginning of the athletics period.

“ok, class! be sure to turn in your drawings at the front before leaving. you’re dismissed. oh, and miss salome, you can turn in any drawing next class period so i can evaluate your skill level.”

“oh, okay! thank you!”

“ooh, real quick! let’s take a selfie!” aphmau whips out her phone, pulling you in by the arm and waving at the two boys to get in frame.

“hm? what for?” garroth questions, though still leans down, perching his head close to yours.

“ummm… cause we’re art buddies!” she shrugs, making room for laurance as he squeezes his face in the shot between our shoulders.

the four of you smile, and she clicks in a few pictures before letting the three of you go.

“those were cute. send me them, please!” you ask, leaning over her shoulder and gazing at the photos on her screen.

“me too.” the boys say in unison, and she joyfully nods at all of your requests.

“oh, here’s my number so you can send that to me,” he says, pulling a loose sheet of paper from his bag and scribbling down on it, ripping it in half and handing one to each of you.

garroth and laurance wave as your group splits apart by the doorway, leaving you walking with aphmau down the hall.

“where are you going for athletics, aph?”

“i think the off season kids are running on the track today. are you going?”

“actually, i was gonna practice volleyball today. katelyn invited me.”

“ooh, that’s fun! maybe i can skip out and watch…?” she wonders aloud, stopping in front of one of the girls' bathrooms. “oh hey, i need to use the restroom, mind waiting for me?”

you shrug, following her in and leisurely stopping in front of the mirror to check yourself out while she steps into one of the stalls. you notice her go in with her backpack, and you curiously stare at the closed stall door.

“oh, are you changing in here?”

“…yeah. i don’t really like changing in front of people, and all of the bathroom and shower stalls kept getting taken before i could get to them last week. that’s how i ended up alone with ivy and her group on friday—cause i had to wait to change.”

you hum softly in understanding.

“that makes sense. i usually face the wall when i change,” you purse your lips in thought. “if you want, we can start changing in here and walking to the gym together.”

you hear a sigh of relief as you hear  her clothes shuffle some more and the stall door unlock. she comes out in the athletics uniform, tying up her hair in a ponytail and kicking her backpack out onto the floor in front of her. 

“that would be awesome, you’re the best.”

you smile with a shrug, turning to the bathroom door when you hear it swing open. the smile immediately drops when you see ivy step in, her nose wrinkling at you as if she had just smelled something foul. her shorter friend–who you still haven’t caught the name of–silently walks in behind her, face still and emotionless as she looks the two of you up and down.

“well if it isn’t the two tramps trying to steal my man from me.”

you can’t help but scoff at her, stepping closer to aphmau and picking her backpack up, singing it up for her to grab. you feel a strange burning sensation in your chest, hands beginning to shake from anger. 

“i’m not even going to entertain your petty jealousy. maybe if you weren’t so pathetic about your crush you’d actually be dating garroth, but instead you’re harassing his friends the first second he makes any,” you snatch aphmau’s wrist, dragging her past the two girls before they could block your way out and turning to the taller girl as she stares at you in disgusted shock.

“stop messing with us. unlike you, i don’t make empty threats.”

aphmau yelps as her hand slips from yours, her head snapping back as ivy’s polished fingers wrap around her ponytail.

you whip around, using the momentum to slide your bag off your shoulders and swing it around into the girl’s head. she lets go of her teary eyed victim, carmine hair flying out of place as she stumbles back.

her friend doesn’t seem too loyal about the situation, stepping back to the wall as she watches everything unfold with dispassionate eyes.

you don’t pay much mind to her, vision red as you focus in on the girl clutching her head as she turns her head back to you with an equally furious look on her face. you pull aphmau out of the way, practically sliding her across the tile before digging your fingers into ivy’s uniform shirt and using your leg to kick her knees out from under her, taking you both down to the ground.

“bitch.”

she lets out an irritated shriek, her hands flying up and catching you right in the nose. you groan in pain, eyes tearing up and giving her an opening to rip at the strands of your hair, her nails raking and scratching your cheek.

“stop!” aphmau calls your name, sounding worried and shaken.

you ignore her pleading voice, too focused on the strange burning and flooding sensation in your nose. gritting your teeth, you use one hand to hold her wrist from ripping a chunk of your hair out, sitting above her as you wind your other hand back and deliver a harsh slap against her face. her hand lets go of you, instead covering her face as you ball your fist, punching her head and pulling at her hands to try and get a better hit in.

“ladies!” a stern feminine voice pierces the hallway, causing you to freeze in place.

you turn with wide eyes to see mrs.hwit marching towards you all, her expression full of disbelief and disappointment.

“just what do you think you’re doing?!”

you immediately regret what you did, glancing down at the girl. her cheek was red from where you slapped her and her round bright blue eyes were filled with tears as she manipulatively blinked up in innocence at the teacher. 

“mrs.hwit,” she blabbers, her demeanor completely different from just before. “aphmau attacked me again and got her friend to join in!”

“silence, miss veleno.” the stern gray-haired lady snaps, hands firmly placed on her hips. 

you clamber back from where you sat on top of her, chest heavy when you realize what you just did sets in. you watch ivy flinch at the harsh tone mrs.hwit gave her, clearly unexpecting for this to not go her way.

“but—“

“this is the second fight you’ve been involved in, ivy, and from the looks of it you did a good amount of beating on this young lady as well. for goodness sake, her nose is bleeding. don’t play innocent.”

your eyebrows pinch as your hand gingerly comes up to your nose, a soft moan of pain leaving your lips at the dull pain. you retract your hand to see red smeared across it. now that the adrenaline has begun to leave your body, you also become aware of how the blood has begun to drip down into your mouth and chin, leaving a gross metal taste against your tongue. your cheek burns and pulses where ivy dug into it with her nails.

“i should give all four of you detention. this is unacceptable.”

you clamber up to your feet at this, holding your hand against your nose as it begins to feel strangely… tight? against your skin? what was happening?

“it was just me and ivy who fought each other, they didn’t do anything,” your words tumble quickly from your lips, guilt building in your chest as you finally glance back at aphmau.

she’s staring at the ground, bottom lip pinched between her teeth and eyes closed over with tears.

mrs.hwit sighs, going silent for a moment as her mouth twists in disappointment. 

“then you and miss veleno can spend your time in detention after school today apologizing to each other. if this happens one more time it’ll be an in school suspension for a whole week!”

your heart drops, and you fight off the tears pricking your eyes at the woman’s harsh tone.

“yes ma’am…”

“now i want ivy to come with me right now to explain herself, and i will be talking to you,” she looks at you pointedly. “before your detention starts.”

“now alex and aphmau get on to athletics right now. and you… go to the nurse for your nose if it’s bad enough. come along miss veleno.”

ivy clambers up in shock, holding her cheek and turning to send you one last glare before following after mrs. hyria who was now furiously marching her way down the hall. you groan again, wiping away your nose and turning to look at aphmau again.

at the other end of the hall you catch that delinquent boy from the park—gene—staring right at you with an impressed smirk on his face. he silently laughs to himself before disappearing around the corner.

“um… what?” she glances down at the empty hall before turning back to you. “are you okay?”

her voice is shaky and stuttered, and you sigh as you wipe the blood from your face, nodding with a groan.

“yeah… sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that.”

she shakes her head, waving her hands in disbelief.

“no i—i mean—“ she stutters, before sighing. “thank you for defending me. maybe she’ll leave us alone now?”

you turn to where ivy’s friend was before, only to see she must’ve quietly left the scene when you weren’t looking.

“i hope so. hey, go on to gym class. i don’t want you to get in trouble for sticking around. i’ll talk to you later.”

aphmau hesitates. “are you sure you’re okay?”

you nod, hunching over your bag and slinging it back over your shoulders.

“yep.”

she nods, glancing at you one last time before running off, the little charms on her backpack clinking along with her. you sigh, rolling your neck as you slowly make your way to the girls’ locker room.

your eyes tear up as you process what just happened, holding back a sob as you finally make it to the door, rushing inside.

you didn’t want to go to the nurse. you didn’t want to see anyone right now.

you let your backpack fall down onto the tile floor, stepping in front of one of the many sinks and leaning forward into the mirror to assess the damage done to your face. your eyebrows pinch together when you look back at your reflection, nothing really amiss except for the blood still smeared across your nose and your hair tangled and mussed.

grabbing a paper towel, you run it under the water and use it to wipe the blood from your face. your nose only had a slightly dull pain as you pressed your fingers against it, and what should’ve been deep welts on your cheek was only a slight red irritation. ivy had dug her hand into you, you should’ve looked a lot worse for wear than you did right now.

“…the hell?”

“oh, there you are! what are you doing?” katelyn questions, appearing in the mirror behind you and taking in your ruffled hair. “did you fall asleep in class or something?”

“uh, yeah... sorry,” you nervously laugh, glancing back at your unmarked face one more time before turning to her. “i’ll change super quick and be out there.”

she stares at you for a moment, frowning at your reddened eyelids and the glossy look in your eyes. she shrugs her shoulders after you don’t say anything further, and turns to walk back out of the locker room.

“alright, me and the ladies will be waiting for you on the court.”

☆

“got it!” you call, running up to the net and jumping, slamming your hand down onto the ball.

katelyn whistles as it lands in bounds in the back end of the other side of the court, concluding the last exercise of practice. the light cheers of teony and nicole–who was a close friend of katelyn’s–follow. everyone crowds together at the center of the court, clapping and putting their hands together.

“lady phoenixes on three!” katelyn announces.

“one, two, three, lady phoenixes!” everyone chants, before tiredly retreating back to the locker room.

“you’re pretty good!” nicole comes up to you, her dark copper hair falling out of her high ponytail.

she stood shorter than the rest of the team and even just slightly under your height. she played the libero position, and was pretty impressive with her diving and saving skills from what you saw. her eyes were a brilliant shade of gray, outlined by thick black lashes. freckles dot along her face like constellations, gathering mostly along her nose and cheekbones. 

“thanks,” you smile, your mood feeling much lighter than it did at the beginning of the period.

teony and katelyn follow up behind her, the former coming to your side and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. despite her hard work all practice, she still managed to have her fruit-scented perfume stuck to her skin, the sweet smell invading your nose.

“seriously, it’s too bad the season has already started,” the chestnut skinned girl rested her cheek against your head, her chime-sounding voice.

katelyn nods, humming in thought as she rests her hand against her hip.

“yeah… do you want to come to practices during the athletics period? if you keep improving i bet you could get on varsity next year.”

“seriously?” you ask in surprise.

“yeah, you were seriously crazy with your spikes. you should think about it, we’d love you on the team,” nicole pipes in.

“for sure, sounds like fun!”

“cool,” katelyn nods, nudging your arm with a smile. “i am kinda glad we don’t have after school practice today, i’m tired.”

“seriously, i’m gonna go home and take a nap,” teony sighs lightly, releasing you from her embrace and stretching out her limbs.

the four of you gather your things in the locker room, but the girls turn to you in confusion when you turn to walk further into the school instead of going along with them to the exit.

“hey, where are you going?”

“oh, uh… i forgot something in one of the classrooms. i’ll catch you guys later.”

teony makes a small noise as if she has remembered something important, dashing back to you and pulling her phone out. she hands it to you, the sunflower charm attached to the pink phone dangling in the air.

“here, put your number in and i’ll share it with kate and nicki, okay?”

“oh, sure!” you smile, quickly tapping in your contact into the cheery girl’s list.

after you finish she waves goodbye, walking off with the other two out the doors.

that’s if i still have a phone after i get back home today.

you find the doors to detention, thankfully not finding anyone you know in the hallways on the way like aphmau had just days before. you step inside, immediately landing your eyes on the girl you had taken down in the hall just about an hour earlier.

her eyes dart to yours, mouth curling up as she glares at you. any sorrow you might’ve felt for her earlier leaves at her ugly expression. you stare her down, tongue rolling against the inside of your teeth as you sit as far from her as possible. you’re not sure what face you’re making back, but she’s the first to break eye contact, face faltering into a peculiar look.

before you can take a seat, the clicking of mrs.hyria’s shoes makes her presence known in the room. you turn around, getting a ‘come hither’ finger wave from the woman instead of words.

great. 

you two quietly make it into the hall, even going as far as turning the next corner so you wouldn’t be eavesdropped on.

“now before you go explaining yourself,” she starts, taking a heavy breath. the maternal aura she gives off sends a lump straight into your throat, especially in this situation. “you know my daughter is lucinda.”

you look up at her with confused eyes, nodding slowly at her words.

“now, i’m not one to necessarily take sides in these situations. however, from what i’ve seen, and from what i’ve heard from lucinda and her friends, i can tell you’re a good girl,” her voice lowers to a whisper. “and i wasn’t born yesterday. i know when girls are being sneaky.”

she crosses her arms, lifting her reading glasses off her head and readjusting them in her hair.

“next time something like this happens… i can promise you telling an adult will end up much better for you than handling it yourself. do you understand what i’m saying?”

“yes ma’am…”

she opens her mouth to continue, but leans forward with a confused hum.

“did you go to the nurse earlier?”

“i—no ma’am.”

one of her hands gingerly touches your cheek, as well as brushing along your nose and under your eyes.

“strange… no swelling? not even a scratch mark? it looked like she broke your nose earlier.”

you blink. so it wasn’t just your imagination.

“i guess it looked worse than it was.”

“now, what’s happening?”

you gulp, looking nervously around at the hall for any eavesdroppers.

“um… just petty drama that aphmau and i were dragged into. it’s really ridiculous.”

“boys?”

you sigh.

“yeah. jealousy, and not on our part.”

she hums, rolling her eyes.

“but, mrs.hwit?”

“yes…?”

“i—“ you hesitate, stuttering in your words. “aphmau and i don’t want to be known for… you know, all of this in our first week. can you not get ivy in any more trouble for this?”

“what?”

“i mean… if she does anything else i will definitely say something. but if she knows i said something now i’m afraid words will get passed around school no matter how it plays out,” you clear your throat. “and i have a feeling she won’t pull something like that again.”

her lips flatten against each other, and she reaches up a finger to rub one of her arched, thin eyebrows with a deep exhale from her nose.

“alright, i understand where you’re coming from. i’ll sweep it under the rug this time, but if you get into another fight you will also be in very deep trouble.”

“yes ma’am, thank you.”

“alright, now go do your homework or something,” she dismisses you, exasperatedly waving her hands for you to move along. “i’ll see you tomorrow in class, dear.”

☆

“why on earth did i get a call from the school saying you were in a fight?” mom stands waiting for you in the doorway, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

you release a tense sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor of the entryway.

“because i got in a fight.”

“did you win?” your dad calls from the living room.

“yep.”

“good.”

your mom throws up her hands in utter disbelief, turning her head to glare at him through the doorway as he sits in the living room.

“what? you know she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t have a good reason.”

she crosses her arms, turning to look back at you. a second passes before she makes a confused face, stepping closer to you and inspecting you with her hands on your shoulders.

“well the school made it sound bad, but you don’t look like she got a single hit on you.”

“yeah well, she did. it was the strangest thing, actually. my nose bled everywhere and she scratched me really badly on my cheek, but it almost immediately healed up… like nothing happened at all. isn’t that weird? even the teacher thought my nose was broken, but i’m fine.”

she freezes, back straightening as she looks down at you with a frighteningly strange look on her face. was it almost… horror? you realize that whatever your dad was tinkering with in the living room had also gone eerily quiet, as you look up at your mom with equally widened eyes.

“…what? why are you looking at me like that?”

she seemingly snaps out of it shaking her head.

“oh no, that is weird. it must’ve looked worse than it actually was. you’ve always had a… really great immune system.”

“yeah, i guess.” you mutter.

she suddenly clears her throat, retreating further back into the house.

“so what was the fight about?”

you sigh, repressing a groan as you prepare yourself to explain everything all over again. when you finish, your mom is staring at you dumbfoundedly.

“why didn’t you tell me this?”

“cause it’s so dumb that i didn’t think it would even get to this point. and by the second week, no less.”

she raises her eyebrows, nodding.

“yeah. this story makes this ivy girl sound really silly.”

“that’s what i’m saying,” you toss your arms up, before beginning to retreat upstairs for a much-needed shower.

“well next time—“

“tell an adult. i will.”

“or just beat them up worse than last time.” your dad hollers after you.

“do not do that!”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky (sry i forgot to tag you last time ><)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait!! In an earlier post you said everyone was aggressive… especially Barnaby…

What happened when he woke up? Unless it’s a spoiler/ not ready yet, then forget this question!!

I hope you have a nice day/night though :3

that answer is indeed Not Ready Yet! but in short, he has a Really bad time after he wakes up. like, it's Rough rough for him. and before anyone asks - no, it's not because of the arm! that is something he can understand, even if its a lil unsettling. everything Else, however...

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Poems: Day 7 (January 7th)

Hushed Willow

a calm and quiet

spread soft and thin

over hundreds of years

rests sweetly in the swaying arms

of an old willow tree

so many birds and squirrels

have made their homes here

the branches protectors

guards

shields

from the chattering cold and hallowed heat

from things that would eat them whole

from the noise of the world spinning

so many people

have found support and peace here

a talented painter seeking a marriage of shade and sun

for his next masterpiece of swirling colours

a little bookworm searching for how to blossom

as she reads her first science fiction chapter book

an enigmatic poet starving for inspiration and solace

within their own mind and on the page

them and so many others

seeking and searching and starving

have found what they need

under the tree's canopy

and in its silent and warm dappled light

- - - - -

Here's the link to the corresponding writing prompt post

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[satoruxx]

thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF

AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33

OK SO

it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.

the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.

well until he notices you anyway.

you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.

he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.

satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.

typical and so predictable.

some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.

and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.

but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.

suguru would probably like you too.

so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.

you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.

dammit.

"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.

"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.

"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"

satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"

realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."

satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.

you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"

he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."

the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."

satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"

you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."

satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."

your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.

honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.

[screampied]

horny reader sending toji soapy titties pics when he's out so he gets home and makes her cum by just playing with her nipples and talking her through it :3

۫ ⭒ toji talking you through an órgasm after you tease him with pics while he’s at work

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, praise / mdni.

you always loathed whenever toji had work, meaning he’d be gone for so many hours.

boredom always overtook you.

you’d be laid on the bed, specifically his side of the bed while having a staring contest with the ceiling. nevertheless, you get an idea so you decide to take a nice relaxing bubble bath. with a good thirty minutes of straight silence—you reach for your phone, snapping a good two pictures of tits. the pretty bubbles of soap that ran down, you bring a hand up to give your nipple a soft squeeze as the camera flashed before sending it to toji.

giggling, you watch as the message immediately goes straight to read, meaning toji opened your picture immediately.

of course, it took toji about thirty seconds to actually reply — all he replies with is with a subtle, “That’s cute. I’ll be home in a few.”

deeply in thought, you pondered what that was about, you just couldn’t wait for toji to finally be home. you clearly missed him and even changed into something pretty for him.

nothing too risqué….

just one of his oversized shirts, you knew he loved whenever you walked around with nothing but one of his clothings. after drying yourself off and moisturizing with candied smelling lotion. you crawled back into the bed and as if right on cue, toji came through the door.

“toji!” you’d beam, stretching your arms out and about to hug him.

“nah baby, don’t touch me.” he grumbles in a gruff voice—you took in his scent, a strong rousing cologne scent that left you craving for more. he got into the bed and you gasp once he lifts up your ; his shirt. “you know you’re in trouble right?”

you grow quiet as he snuggles up against you, sliding off his shoes before bringing your straight into his arms. “what for?”

“girl,” he utters in a rasp, you let off a soft moan once toji drags you towards his lap—you’re facing the opposite way of him, and a rough hand of his grabs onto your right tit. “you’ve got some nerve, princess. not only were you touching yourself while i wasn’t here, but you also sent pictures of yourself to me while i was at work,” and you start to softly pant, feeling him swipe a thumb against your perky nipple. “what if i was around people huh? and they saw my cute baby all exposed ‘n provocative?”

“i’m…s-sorry, you huffed out a frustrated breath. his touch was so warm. you started to feel yourself getting heated, in that kind of way. the way that makes you drenched between your thighs. “you were gone all day ‘n i thought i’d show you myse—”

“i understand princess but you shouldn’t be touching yourself in the first place,” and for a moment his voice grew smooth and tender—you slump your head back against his chest before he moved his free hand towards between your legs. “what’d i tell you about touching yourself, girl? besides, ya can’t even do it properly.”

you heard the low snicker follow shortly afterwards, and he was so smug and condescending.

“ya can’t even touch yourself right, what makes you think you can make yourself cum?” he murmurs against your neck before playfully licking a stripe against your tender skin.

you start to whimper, feeling him squeeze against your left breast, another rubbing against your panties.

“i-i can.” you pout, intaking a sharp breath from the sheer warmth to of his touch.

“baby, y’er fingers are fuckin’ useless,” he chuckles. you frown from his teasing before you let off a soft moan once you feel toji’s thick fingers graze and brush against the middle part of your panties. “gotta do everything for you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your collarbone. he felt you breathing back against him. you gnaw on your lip as toji’s still playing with your breasts. “did you touch down here?”

your breathing continued to pick up, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second. “um, no.”

“um, yeah,” he hisses. toji’s jaw tightens and you let off a needy mewl once he runs a thumb down your slit before feeling it slowly sink in—you’re so wet it happens so easily, and your heads just lazily laid back against his chest. “if you didn’t touch yourself, how come you’re all drenched?”

“i was—”

“dumb soaked liars shouldn’t speak,” he cuts you off, and you moan once he presses a little pressure against your hardened nipple, feeling a bit a few droplets of water trickle down. “i don’t hold grudges though, especially not with you, baby,” and his words were tame and smooth right against your ear. “but i feel kinda bad. least i can do is give you an orgasm huh? ya want that, princess?”

you sniffle, giving his wrist a firm tug. “yesyes, please. touch me more.”

“shouldn’t do shit after that little slutty stunt you pulled,” he growls, and you moan once he starts to maneuver small circles against your cunt—two fingers now softly making its way inside. toji’s got your panties shoved to the side and your bottom lip quavers. “but…i don’t wanna make my baby more needy than she has to be.”

“toji,” you’d sulk, and the warmth of his breath forevermore continued to blow against your ear whenever he laughed. “make me cum, p-please.”

he was so smooth with his fingers, adding just enough pressure to where you’re feeling yourself grow hot and bothered each second.

“no one should see these girls but me,” he snickers, giving your nipple a soft squeeze. you were so sensitive, especially there—yet he knew that. “her too.” toji coyly grins, the top of his fingers prod against clit as he feels you bare around his digits. “can’t leave ya by yourself can i? i can just imagine how many others times you were here waiting, playing with yourself, hmpf.”

“it— it was just this one time.” you moaned, immense tension building up. a sudden breeze of from the cool air danced against your skin. toji smiles, knowing each exact angle to hit you with his fingers.

you remain sojourned against his chest, and toji brings his chin towards your right shoulder—you conceal an incoming moan once he’s just lightly ramming his fingers in and out of you. it’s sloppy, the plethora rings of squelches sang in harmony and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. “and it’ll be the last right, baby?”

“yes. promise, toji please.” you’d hiccup, and as he still has one of your breasts in the inner depths of his hand, your legs trembled in longing desire.

“okay,” he purrs, nipping a kiss towards your neck. you pierce your nails into his arm before after a few long tension building moments. you cum, and you cum hard. you eye sight hazy, swallowing thickly you panted heavily. “good girl, good messy girl. relax.”

you huffed and puffed quietly, legs stuttering and shaking with such pleasure that you’re at an almost lost for words. so embarrassing you could barely pronounciate his name. your words broke and broke. “t-to-joiiii.”

“poor baby,” he whispers, fingers still shoved into your pussy. it stays there for the time being before you feel him curl his index finger just a few inches upward towards your sweet nub and you choke out a cry. “ooh. that’s a good little girl,” and his praises went straight to your heart. toji’s hand caressingly trailed down your chest towards your tummy before clearing his throat. “this won’t happen again, will it?”

“m-maybe.” you slur, and you’re taken aback once he turns you over to give you a chaste kiss.

toji stares at you before groaning. “thought you’d say that. what a fuckin’ shame,” and you gasp out a noise once toji makes you land on your chest before giving your ass a playful spank. “i’ve been too nice, princess. now i gotta really show you what your pictures did to me. so arch for me.”

[luveline]

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look unhappy.” 

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.” 

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 

“Sure.” 

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 

“Who says I need that?” 

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 

“I don’t.” 

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 

You touch his waist. “Not me.” 

[erwinsvow]

knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.

it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.

in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.

“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 

“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.

“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?

“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 

when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.

“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”

“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.

“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 

“wh-rafe!” 

but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.

he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.

“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 

you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.

when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?

it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.

“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 

“what’s that?”

“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”

“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”

and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 

“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”

it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 

“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.

“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.

[theemporium]

[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

.

It happened in Amsterdam. 

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained. 

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long. 

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation. 

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting. 

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?” 

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car. 

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully. 

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life. 

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.” 

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie. 

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window. 

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in. 

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside. 

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise. 

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted. 

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember. 

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place. 

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room. 

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected. 

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation. 

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas. 

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned. 

Oscar raised his brows. 

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more. 

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement. 

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone. 

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress. 

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage. 

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.” 

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him. 

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was. 

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted. 

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you. 

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.” 

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response. 

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation. 

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop. 

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed. 

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits. 

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat. 

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive. 

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them. 

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.” 

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you. 

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?” 

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.” 

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.” 

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder. 

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke. 

“Fuck!” 

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints. 

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips. 

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs. 

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come. 

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him. 

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him. 

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him. 

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock. 

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen. 

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?” 

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying. 

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?” 

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know. 

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?” 

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers. 

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made. 

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room. 

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive. 

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both. 

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended. 

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed. 

.

[ghouljams]

Let Me Keep You(Here's My Name, Burden Me) Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Word Count: 4k Tags: John Price x f!oc/reader, first time, fluff, virginity loss, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, minor breeding kink, confessions, fae au, witch!reader Summary: "When I fuck you," Price breathes, brushes his lips against yours, "and I will fuck you, Sweetheart," he assures you, "I want it to mean something.” That was months ago, months of wondering when he'd finally decide you meant something. Well, the dam can't hold forever, and when it breaks it's not courage that parts your lips.

“What was that perfume you were wearin’ when we first met?” Price asks you out of the blue. You glance up from your cauldron in time for a cloud of purple smoke to belch out of one of the oil slick bubbles.

“I don’t know,” You really don’t. You don’t even know if it was a perfume, or if it was a combination of herbs you’d been working with. You stir your potion thoughtfully. “If you could describe it,” You decide, “I might be able to tell you.”

Price hums, he does that when he thinks, it’s terribly charming. You like how he fills your space with noise. Both of you know that he’s as silent as fresh snow, but for you he’s as loud as an elephant. It’s comforting, in some strange little way, always being able to hear him near you. It’s harder to be alone. Clearly. You- Logically you know he’s there, but it’s- you shake the thought from your head, no sense tainting your potion with ill advised sorrows.

“Like dry grass on a warm day,” Vetiver you note, “and honey without the sweetness.” Citrus, potentially, wildflower likely. You tick mental boxes, sorting through your mental catalog. What were you shopping for that day? Were you killing time on a spell?

“Anything else?” You ask over your shoulder.

“Summer, but that was probably from-” you hear the rustle of fabric as he waves his hand behind you.

“From the garden,” you finish with a smile.

“Smelled expensive, dark, like that red dress you’ve got,” he leans back in his chair and you hear his heels tap against the wood of your kitchen table as he kicks them up, “Should wear that for me some time, hugs ya’ in the prettiest places.”

“The perfume, darling.” You remind him, and he clicks his tongue.

“Keep callin’ me that sweetheart, and you won’t remember either.” He smiles when you glance at him, arms crossed over his broad chest. The relaxed posture shows off his arms well, his sleeves wrapped tight around his thick biceps. Temptation in a man. You have to stop letting him in when you’re trying to work.

“Why are you asking about my perfume?” You redirect the conversation. You doubt Price has suddenly taken an interest in aromachology, and you doubt he’s looking to buy you a gift considering all his are magic related.

“I want you to wear it tonight,” He replies plainly.

“Are we doing something tonight?” You don’t think you’ve forgotten anything. No date night on your calendar for tonight, no holiday or witches gathering.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you.”

Your potion explodes. You cough and sputter against the smoke, the pink dazzle of failed intentions attempting to choke you as your entire body bursts with heat. Price snaps his fingers and the smoke is sucked out your garden door like a vacuum.The mixture is still bubbling in your pot, though now it simmers at a nice vibrant red. A love potion instead of a protection potion. You’ll have to start over.

“That’s hardly romantic,” You tell Price, because you have no idea how to respond in a way that doesn’t scream “I’m a virgin.” Price spins you to face him, silent in his movements, and draws up the apron around your waist to wipe off your face. You’re sure you’re a sight, covered in pink and barely able to look at him.

“I’m givin’ you time to say no,” He explains, patiently. You take your apron from him and finish scrubbing your cheeks.

“I can’t say no during?” You joke. Price settles his hand on the counter behind you and leans close.

“You can, but you won’t want to.” Another burst of heat courses through you at how serious he sounds. You swat him away to clean up your potion. You don’t think you’ll be able to get any magic done today.

-

Price monopolizes your day. Monopolizes your thoughts anyway. You can’t concentrate on any of your spells, your workspace tainted with him. He drips into every corner of your home, his smoke filling the cracks and crevices. You’ll have to cleanse the whole space the next time you want to do anything.

He’s quiet too, which is the worst part. It makes you nervous, like he might be rethinking. Yet each time you turn to look at him he’s staring at you, his eyes warm and full of open affection. You can’t look at him for long, and you always turn away with your cheeks burning. The way he looks at you, like you’re the missing piece he’s been looking for…

“You’re staring,” You tell him, after dinner, you mean it to be chastising. 

“Am I?”

“It’s distracting.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He almost could pass as concerned, if it weren’t for the crooked smile, the slight smirk that says he wouldn’t even if you asked. Truthfully you don’t want him to stop, you like the way he looks at you. 

“When are we going to-” You wave a hand, feigning nonchalance. He catches it and kisses your knuckles.

“Whenever you want,” He smiles more genuinely, his eyes crinkling at the edges, “Just say the word sweetheart.”

-

You shed your skirt on the way into the bedroom, his fingers tug down the zipper as you walk, and you’re more than happy just stepping out of it. Happier still when Price hauls you up and drops you on the bed. He crawls over you and you cup his face to kiss him. Each slick slide of his lips against yours makes heat pool in your stomach, something warm and anticipatory taking hold as he breaks away to slide down your body.

Price kisses your stomach, laves his tongue against the soft skin and sucks appreciatively. His beard tickles, and you squirm without meaning to. He explores the exposed skin with his mouth, his hands sliding your shirt up to give himself more room. There’s something reverent in the way he moves you, helps you tug your jumper off and smooths his rough hands over you. His hands knead your breasts through your bra, kissing them where they push against the fabric. His eyes meet yours as he does, and you bite down a smile.

“Take it off,” he orders, sitting back to give you room. You sit up and fiddle with the hooks in the back while he strips his shirt off. You get a little distracted by the broad well muscled expanse of his chest, the dark hair. He pushes you back down against the bed, a finger hooked in the front of your bra to pull it off as you fall. He’s rather good at this, you think before he’s kissing you again. His hands cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. You press into his hold, feel his tongue slide against your lips, and open your mouth to suck on it. He pushes his hips against yours, the fabric of his pants making you feel all the more naked under him. 

You want to feel him, really feel him.

His hand disappears, fabric rustles and Price lets out a breath. You glance down to see he’s taken his pants off, his hard cock standing proud against the swirls of hair that trail up his stomach. You snap your eyes back to his face, and his brows raise. 

“See somethin’ you like?” He smiles, and you shrink down against the bed. Very much so, but you don’t want to stare. “Plenty of time for that later,” He tells you, “For now-” He sits back, tugs your panties down. He follows their journey down one leg, kissing your thigh, knee, your ankle, until he can toss them to the floor. Then his attention falls heavily onto you.

He presses your hips more firmly against the bed, holds them hard enough to bruise, and you watch the rise and fall of his chest as he stares between your legs. The usual ice of his eyes has been swallowed by the deep hungry black of his pupils. It makes you squirm to be under such a heady inspection. His brows twitch, his head tips, the slight movement making you twist your fingers in the bed sheets.

"Fuck," he groans, before snarling, "fuck." He falls into you, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling them up over his shoulders as he buries his face against your cunt. His tongue licks a broad stripe over you and you jerk against his hold, a nervous giggle falling unbidden from your lips. You've never done this before but you probably shouldn't be laughing.

"Wait, Price," you try, your fingers shake as you press them against his hairline, threading them through the short brown strands. He growls, glares at you, like a dog trying to protect its bone. Your breath hitches.

His tongue prods at your clit, rolling over it with firm strokes. It's wet, warm, and well practiced. It sparks in your stomach, making it jump as you shiver and tighten your grip on his hair. His fingers only hold you more firmly, anticipating every squirming movement of your hips as his tongue wiggles against you. You whine, press the back of your free hand against your lips and try to stifle the noises he draws from you. Though he doesn't seem to be doing the same.

Every low groan and slurp at your leaking cunt sends another shock of heat through you. You whimper when he sucks at your clit and he responds in kind.

"Good girl sweethear', taste so fuckin' good." Your cheeks burn, at the gravel in his voice. Your head feels hot and your body feels tight. His tongue presses into you, licks over you, like he's starving for it. He laughs when you buck your hips against his mouth, a deep throaty chuckle that doesn't help the heat in your face, "Knew you'd squirm."

You swallow, press your hand a little more firmly to your lips. Price lifts his head enough to let you watch his tongue flick against your clit, his eyes trained on the jump of your stomach, all the soft parts of you he likes best, absolutely burning for him. "Squirm for me baby," he tells you, amusement clear in his voice, "show me how much you like it."

You twist in his hold when he lowers his mouth back down to suck on your clit. You try to, at least. He's strong enough to keep you in place, almost like you hadn't moved at all. It's cruel really. You try a different approach, grinding your hips with the movement of his tongue. He allows it, guides your hips with firm hands, his nose grinding against your clit as his tongue presses into you. 

You whine, short and high, your fingers tugging at his hair as you arch your back. Everything feels so tight between your legs, so slick and warm. Price’s tongue twists against your cunt, pushes in and out of you in a maddening dance. He presses sucking kisses to your folds, lapping up every drop of your slick with deep satisfied groans. 

“God,” He growls against your cunt, drunk on you, “could eat you whole-” He hums, and you squirm as the sound vibrates around your clit, “-doing so good for me.” You nod, every inch of you blazing, you’re sure you must be a sight for him. “So good,” He mumbles. He sucks at your clit, the pressure tugging at the swollen nub released only to be started all over again. One of his thick fingers presses into you and your breath hitches.

“Price,” You tug at his hair to get his attention, your hips raising with tense tingly pleasure as he curls his finger against your gooey walls. He strokes inside your cunt firm and delicate, hardly listening to you. Your legs shake, on either side of his head. 

“You gonna cum sweetheart?” The low timber of his voice makes goosebumps rush over you. You nod, mutely, and he wiggles a second finger in beside the first. “I know,” he coos, “I know baby, can feel it.” His fingers pump in and out of you, hitting something that makes your stomach jump and clench. “Go on,” He tells you, “cum on my tongue, give it to me, hard as you can.”

The tight heat breaks into desperate trembling, your stomach jumping as you squeeze his head between your thighs and try to wriggle away from the constant rolling pleasure of his tongue. You moan, rock your hips against his mouth, squeezing and pulling him as close as you can. Fuck do you want to get away or stay like this? You don’t know. It’s too much and not enough. You can feel your body fluttering, clenching on his fingers greedily. Price’s groans are desperate, hungry, indulgent, his eyes hot as they watch you fall apart.

Your cunt sucks at his fingers, trying to draw them in further, clench on them tighter. He keeps stroking that soft spot inside of you as his tongue laps up the slick that pools around them. His mouth is sinful, sweet torture that doesn’t stop even after you’ve cum. His beard scratches your thighs, smears your wetness over them as he kisses the soft skin. His fingers don’t leave you, even when his mouth does, they keep stretching you out, toying with your cunt. You shake and shiver for him, unsure what to do with yourself as he watches you. 

“Could drive a man mad, lookin’ at ‘im like that,” He tells you, kissing your bent knee. You tug at the blankets, press your hips down against his fingers. Price hums, thinking, his eyes rake over you as he leans close. “Stick out your tongue baby,” He murmurs, and you do without fuss. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, closing your eyes when his tongue presses against it, licking over the wet muscle with firm strokes before sucking it into his mouth. You do your best to keep up. The way he kisses you, dips his tongue into your open mouth, feels dirty, makes your head spin. 

You whine against his lips when his thumb rubs against your clit. The calloused digit pressing firm against your sensitive bud, as he pulls back to watch his spit drip into your mouth. You swallow it all too eagerly, and pant against his lips. You grip his shoulders as he dips down to suck at your neck, your voice soft and high, pleading, in his ear. You need something to hold onto as he sparks pleasure up your spine. You’re just starting to shake again when he pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt.

You grab for his wrist to put it back, you’re warm and throbbing, and you’re so close. He just stares at you, chuckles a little when he grabs your wrist and brings it to his lips. Price sits back, holds your hand with slick soaked fingers, and grabs his cock around the base. You suck in a breath at the size of it. It looks so long and thick, is that really going to fit inside of you? Did he stretch you enough? 

“Look at that, mm,” Price sighs, rubbing the tip of his cock through your wet folds, “pretty little pussy.” He feels bigger than he looks, the head of his cock just catching at your entrance with each stroke. It bumps against your clit, mixing pre-cum with your slick. You watch him move, watch the way his cock drools against you, with libidinous eyes. You chew on the inside of your cheek, raising your hips to try and convince him to fuck you already. He hums, his smile, his eyes flicking to meet yours, all too hot for a man from Winter.

“Beg for it,” He tells you, “You want this cock, I wanna hear you beg.”

You want to, you want to beg so badly, but you feel like all the words have left you feeling him twitch against you. You let out a shaky breath and give him the only word you have left. “Please,” you shudder, “Please, plea-” 

He presses against your entrance, the fat head of his cock slipping inside, and you gasp. Price murmurs something to you that you don’t catch, too focused on the roll of his hips as he eases his cock into you. Your eyes roll a little, breath uneven as his girthy cock stretches you out. The burn of it is sinful, absolute bliss, and you feel yourself run a little hotter with each thick inch. There’s so much of him, and you’re so full already. 

He stops, his breaths ragged, releases your hand to grip the backs of your thighs and press them up against your chest. The new angle forces Price’s cock deeper, letting the veins of it drag against that squishy soft spot in you. You squeak, and he shushes you. “Needed a better-” Price groans, “fuck sweetheart, you’re so tight, such a good girl.” He eases another inch into you, you try to raise your hips and find yourself pinned under his weight. “Just a bit more baby,” He drags his lips against your gasping mouth, “you can take it, know you can.”

You don’t know if that’s true, when his hips finally settle against your ass you’re shaking with the effort of keeping still for him. He lets out a sigh, smoke dripping down over you, filling your lungs the way his cock fills your cunt. It makes you a little dizzy, dizzy enough you don’t notice he’s pulling out until he snaps his hips and fills you again in one clean motion. Then that’s all you feel.

The maddening drag of his cock against your gummy walls, all slick friction and heat that pulses through you, makes you gasp and whine. Pretty sounds just for him, just for the way his hips smack against you. He hits some impossibly deep part of you, and doesn’t stop hitting it. Each thrust winds you tighter and tighter, makes you clench and drip around his cock.

He releases his hold on your legs, lets you wrap them around his waist as he settles comfortably over you. His lips drag along your jaw, the scratch of his beard making you tip your head. He’s so warm, or maybe he’s reflecting your own heat back to you. Either way you feel wrapped up in him. His smoke, his mouth, his cock. Fuck, his cock.

"Be a good girl and play with that clit, rub it real nice for me," Price mumbles, you whine and reach between you to rub yourself, "there you go sweetheart, clenchin' on me so well." You can feel him thrusting into you like this, grazing your fingers against his cock as you rub tight circles. Everything is hot and wet. Your stomach clenches as he pushes in deep. Each drag of his thick cock is a delicious build on the already tight heat coiling in you.

"I- mm," You squeeze your eyes shut, tip your head back as your back arches. You've never felt anything this good.

"No, no, eyes open sweetheart," He coaxes, his hands hold your face, tip your head forward, "Want you to look at me."

You don't want to, it feels easier to keep them closed, but you want to be good for him. Every time he praises you it feels like your skin gets a little hotter, and it's so- you always thought you were good at taking compliments, but the way he says them, so low and filthy, makes you want to stutter like a nervous little girl. He doesn't stop fucking you, but he does slow down, gives you a small reprieve to open your eyes in. When you do, you're immediately treated to his smile.

"Don't look away, unless you're looking at-" he tips your head forwards so you can look between you at where his cock pushes into you, "-that." He groans as your breath hitches, eyes fixed on the fluid motion of his hips. You clench around the stretch of his thick cock. You can see the dark curls at the base wet with your slick, the muscles of his thighs moving, the bruises he's left on your hips.

Your legs curl towards your chest again, shaking, the feeling of his cock pounding into you suddenly too much all at once. You bite your lip to keep quiet, as your orgasm breaks over you. Wet heat slapping slick noise to the pump of Price's cock, and snapping over your spine as you arch your back. You've trained yourself so well you don't even notice you're biting down your moans.

"Speak," Price commands and you can't help the tumble of noise that falls from you as your mouth opens. Soft swears and pleas and his name like a prayer, over and over. He groans, catches your desperate mouth with his own and fucks you. His full balls knock against your ass as his hips piston into you.

"Price, God, Price," you whimper, clawing at his back. His cock hits you so deep at this angle, your toes pointing as he keeps you full of him.

"John," he whispers, kissing into your vernacular. John. You breathe his name in. You knew it. John the conqueror, the morning's glory, the Highest exalted, remover of obstacles, dominator of will. Yours to be known.

"John," you sigh. Yours to keep, but never use. A shiver racks through him, you wonder how many times in his long life he's heard his name. He puts himself in your hands without asking for the same in return, but you want to give it to him. You want his admission to mean something. You whisper your name between kisses, feel the twitch of his cock as he rolls his hips against yours, the stutter in his breath. You love him, you love him, you love him.

It's real and terrifying and it strings between you so heavily you can't ignore it. He says your name, whispers it, and it’s like you’ve never heard it before. You shake, shiver with sensitivity as you feel hot cum flood your cunt. Price’s hips don’t stop, fucking his thick seed deep into you with a low groan. Fuck you could cum again just feeling him wiggle his hips against your poor cunt, like he’s trying to make sure it all stays in. 

He sighs, more smoke pouring from his lips before he can kiss you. Sweeter this time, but no cleaner. You push your tongue against his, arching your back to press up into his chest, feel the click of your teeth when you press a little too close. Desperate, you’re so desperate for him. How could you ever not be? You could go again, you want to go again. He chuckles against your lips, and you do your best to swallow the sound.

“Easy,” He tells you, the low timber of his voice rumbling through you, “we’ve got all night.”

-

You wake up heavy and warm. There’s a pleasant ache low in your back, and an arm slung over you. You close your eyes against the sunlight streaming in the window, and cuddle back against Price, put yourself in his hold without fear. There’s a weight in your chest that feels too important to touch, so you don’t. You can feel it though, as clearly as you feel Price stir behind you, feel him hook his leg over yours. It’s natural the way you fit together. 

You wiggle, turn to face him. He doesn’t open his eyes, just waves his hand to make the curtains close and lets you cuddle close. You kiss his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You gave him your name, and you’re still here. Still breathing, still laying here with him. Easy as anything. This is real, you think, he’s real. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not using you for anything, he wanted this to mean something. It does mean something. He means something to you, something you didn’t have a word for until now. Funny how sex makes things so much clearer.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, sure he’s still sleeping.

“Marry me,” He whispers back, like he’d been hoping you’d say something.

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n��swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

[bleedingoptimism]

Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.

He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.

Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.

He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.

🎮🤲💖

Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.

'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.

He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.

He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.

Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.

🎮🤲💖

A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.

He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.

He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.

Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.

The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  

Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.

When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.

But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,

"Steve, what the fuck?"

‘Oh, shit…’

“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,

“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”

He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”

“Please, let me explain-”

“Steve-”

“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”

“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.

“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.

“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,’ he thinks.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.

“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.

They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.

Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.

He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.

A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.

Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’

Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.

Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”

He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.

In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,

“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 

He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.

But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.

It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 

Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.

Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.

“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.

Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.

Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’

Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-

Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 

And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.

Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”

He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”

“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

“Broken?” Steve whispers.

Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.

A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 

𝒻𝒾𝓃

coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕

[mysicklove]

𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐗!

DAY 11: COCK WARMING + NIPPLE PLAY

With: Suguru Geto

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: sub! geto, afab!/fem! reader (reader gets called "ma'am" once) , geto's nipples are abused :/, bottom reader, creampie, reader is a bit of a pervert, nipple piercings mention, begging and crying (like usual)

A/N: and you guys thought i would NEVER post for kinktober (nobody said this I just think u r thinking it). here I am. this one was strange to write tho idk. kinda wasn't feeling it :/ but maybe u guys will

You feel a kiss pressed into the back of your neck, and then two, and suddenly, you can feel your lover trying to plant a hickey on your skin. You pull away quickly, and the man behind you groans in annoyance. “Nice try. Relax, Suguru, you are being so needy,” You complain, readjusting yourself on his lap. Geto makes a low noise, similar to a whimper, and you can’t help but grin at the meek sound.

He recomposes himself, taking in a deep breath and letting out a low laugh. “Just give me a chance, my love. I will make you feel good. J-Just let me.” His words come out more of a plea, and he internally curses himself – pleading only makes it worse.

You stretch your arms out with a mewl, listening to the satisfying pop in your shoulders. Then, you collapse against Geto’s chest with a yawn. His hands rest on your thighs, and his leg begins to bounce, trying to distract himself. “Dont want to. Can we just relax and watch the movie?” You hum in return.

He faintly hears the movie playing in the background, but he can't pay attention to it. All he can think of is how badly he needs to cum, how desperately he craves to fuck you. You have been sitting on his cock for twenty minutes now, and he feels like he is going insane. “Please let me move. I will be quick, I swear. Just let me cum first, and I will watch the movie!”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Is that all I am to you? Something to fuck? I was trying to have a nice evening, and here you are ruining it cause you can't control yourself.”

Geto grinds his teeth together. He knows what you are doing, especially the way you tightened up just coincidentally after you said that. But still, he plays his part, knowing that it was worse not to. “It’s not like that, you know that.” He begins to kiss your neck, hoping to coax something out of you. “Just want it, s-so badly. Love you so much, but you are torturing me, you know that?” He murmurs, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He licks at his lips, and his fingers twitch on your thigh.

You shake your head, leaning forward to grab a piece of popcorn. The movement of you slightly raising yourself up and then down sends Geto moaning out, and his hands instinctually grab onto your hips. His fingers are shaking, and he is trying his best not just to hold you down and fuck you then and there. He wasn’t one to disobey that easily, instincts aside.

But as if nothing happened, you slump against his chest, feeding yourself some more popcorn.  “No,” You decide, leaning up to press a small kiss to his jaw. “I just want to relax here. ‘s comfortable. You are alright with that, yes, Suguru?”

His mouth goes dry, and he glares at the back of your neck. Suguru knows that is wasn’t simply because you wanted to relax – no, you wanted to tease him, to drive him insane. He wants to yell at you, but nothing will come out of that. So he tries to relax on the couch, spreading his legs and looking at the ceiling. “Yeah. ‘s fine. Relax. Relax,” he murmurs mostly to himself, trying to get himself not to buck his hips into you.

“Good boy,” You coo, pressing another couple of kisses to his neck. He, in turn, jumps with a noise just smaller than a whimper, but tries his best not to complain.

 And then the two of you remain silent for the next ten minutes. You just sat and watched the movie, and Geto found himself playing with anything he could to force himself not to move his hips. He even got soft for a moment when he spent a couple of minutes thinking about how gross curses taste, but with one sigh from you as your arms stretch out and reposition yourself on his cock, he finds himself hard again. 

But then, out of the blue, you turn yourself on his lap and face him. He gulps when he feels your cheek press against his chest while you wear a small grin on your face. You were planning something, he could tell. 

“This movie sucks,” You complain, “Need some better entertainment.”

Geto’s eyes widen and his breathing picks up. “Let me fuck you,” He breathes, using his shaky hands to tilt your jaw up to face him. “Please, I-I promise it will keep you entertained.”

You pull away from his grip, and the man furrows his eyebrows. “Not happening. If you ask again, I will leave you here. Do you understand Suguru?”

He does let a whine slip out this time, but you dont flinch at him, instead seeming to narrow your eyes even more. He nods his head, gulping, before saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

You frown at him, rubbing your thumb on his closed lips. “Poor baby. I wish your body were just as obedient as your mouth. Must be so frustrated.”

Your hands pull away from his mouth and trace down the flowy white tee shirt he wears for bed. They stop and circle the two erect nipples on his chest, and Geto flinches. “I am. Can you please help me?”

You pinch one of his nipples through the cloth and his whole body jerks. “I take it back. Your mouth is as whorish as your body,” You seem to seeth, and Suguru is quick to mumble out multiple apologies to try to get you to let go of the sensitive buds.

After a moment, you spare him and let go of them, but your hands trail to the base of the shirt before sliding under it until your hands touch his abdomen. Suguru gulps but doesn’t say anything as you force his shirt up and over his head. The cloth lands just behind his neck, but neither of you spares it a glance.

Then, your hands dance their way up to his nipples, causing his entire body to freeze. For the months you spent dating him, you have grown fawn of toying with the cute nubs. They were always an erogenous spot for your lover, but during sex, you make sure to always somehow stimulate them. Eventually, they became more and more sensitive, and sometimes, if you are lucky, you can hear him hiss out when they graze the fabric of his shirt while stripping. He has taken to baggier clothes instead of trying to reason with you.

Geto doesn’t move from his position, but his eyes look up at you in a plea. His chest was puffy from yesterday night’s teasing, and you could make out a faint bite mark that trapped the bud. “How do you manage to get cuter?” You sigh, gently pinching both of them in between your pointer and middle finger, which makes a low whine slip from his mouth.

“I dont think I have met anyone other than you that has a strange fascination in a male’s chest,” Suguru mumbles out, a small pout on his face that doesn’t last long, considering that your mouth has found its way to his chest.

His eyes widen, and his hands shoot from your thigh to the back of your hair. “H-Hey. Wait. Oh fuck. Gentle!” He borderline yelps, back arching against the couch as his eyes screw shut. It sends a shiver down his body, and with every drag of your tongue, he can feel himself grow overstimulated.

You grin into his skin, and he can feel your teeth graze against him. “I am,” you mumble out, moving to give the other nipple some attention. His hand tightens on your hair, and he grinds his teeth together to try to distract himself from the overbearing stimulation. It was borderline painful, but at the same time, he knew that the couple probably cum from that alone. And that’s what worried him.

“Now, can I?”

You cock your head to the side, dragging your tongue up his chest. “Can you what?”

Suguru goes quiet for a moment, mouth slightly open as another full-body shiver runs down his spine. “I dont want to cum like this,” he begs, dark eyes flickering to you in a plea, “I want–please let me fuck you. Please. Please!”. 

Your other hand creeps toward his other nipple, running circles around it. It was wet from your mouth, so your finger slides easily over the reddened flesh. His breaths are coming out in his pants, switching from holding his breath to try and ignore the sensation to rapid exhales as he tries to move his chest away from you. It was endearing, seeing him squirm because he usually held his composure well, always growing embarrassed when you tease him about it.

“Why? It feels good, yeah? I think you are going about this the wrong way, Suguru,” You sigh, now using both fingers to flick at the nub. Your lips are millimeters from his, and he is borderline breathing into your mouth. “It is a privilege to cum, y’know.”

Your lover licks at his lips, twitching and letting out a small yelp. “I-I know. Thankful for it. But, it’s a lot,” he whines, accidentally pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your lips when his body uncontrollably jerks. 

He shakes his head back and forth when you chuckle at him, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “It’s–You are driving me insane,” the man warbles, biting the inside of his mouth and shutting his eyes when you pinch him. His hands drift back to your waste again, and he rolls his hips upward. The action makes you raise your eyebrows, intrigued by the sudden defiance. 

“Dont wanna cum, dont wanna cum like this. Please, please, please move.” You watch as his hands ghost up and down your waist, most likely imagining what it would be like to have you bounce on him. His eyes are screwed shut, and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration – you even have to tear his lip from his teeth before it begins to bleed.

You dramatically sigh, finally tearing your fingers from his chest to pin them to your side. The action causes him to blink up at you in confusion, and you watch as a singular tear fall to his cheek. “You have 15 seconds to cum, do you understand?”

His body goes rigid, and he leans up from the couch to get closer to you. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “you can fuck me. Your time starts now.” 

In an instant, you are being pinned to his chest with his face buried into your neck. His hands dig into your waist, and he begins his frantic thrusts upward. Loud moans are breathed into your shoulder, and his mouth begins to pepper your skin in love bites. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Geto chants, eyes falling contently shut.

Your eyes widen at the suddenness of it all, especially the fact that your face was now suffocating in his chest. But you take this as an opportunity, and immediately your mouth falls on the closest nipple, using your teeth to nibble at it gently.

The reaction is immediate; Geto curses out as his back slightly arches. His pace doesn’t let up even with the sensitive distraction, and more tears seem to tumble down his face. “Ten seconds,” You whisper into his chest, trying to hide the tremble in your voice from how rough he was being with you. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world, simply focusing on his pleasure alone. You didn’t know if you found that cute or annoying.

“W-Wait. Give me five more. Y-You’re counting too fast!” He frantically demands, pulling you tighter toward him. You dont respond, instead trying to find some breathing room to switch to the other nipple. This time when you do latch onto it, you bite it harder than any of the other times, and Geto lets out a screeching sound. Tears cascade down his face, and he whimpers out in pain, but nevertheless, he continues to thrust upward, not willing to miss out on his orgasm.

“Five seconds,” You purr, and at the words, he begins to cry into your neck. Strong arms encompass your entire frame, and he digs his fingers into any surface he can on your body. But his sounds were higher in pitch, and his thrusts were uneven, so you could tell that he was close.

“Three…” He shakes his head back and forth, thick hair tickling your shoulder as his breaths become shorter. His eyes begin to widen, and he gulps, continuing with his hip movements. The room fills with loud slapping noises and pants from both parties. 

“Two…”

But you didn’t get to one because after sending one last long lick to the sensitive bud, Getos comes crashing down. The sound he lets out is breathless, similar to a moan and hiccup, like he struggling to breathe. He throws his head back, and it is just centimeters away from knocking into your chin, but you dont have the energy to tease him. Besides, even if you did, he wouldn’t listen, not in this state at least.

Cum begins to leak out and slide back onto his dick, and the feeling makes you sigh. Getos orgasm lasts around twenty seconds, but even after, his body twitches with aftershock. You watch sweat drip down his neck, and his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath,  But he wears a lazy grin on his face, eyes hazy, but completely content, finally sedated. 

Geto releases your arms and collapses back onto the couch with one last deep sigh. You take this time to inspect his body, grinning to yourself when you catch sight of his nipples. When he catches your gaze, his arms immediately reach out to cover himself. “No more nipple play for a long, long, long time. You are officially cut off from my chest.”

You let out a loud whine in complaint. “You can’t do that! I was just thinking about piercing them!”

The man stares at you incredulously, shivering at the idea of a needle driving through his already oversensitive nipples. “You must be crazy,” he sighs, “and a pervert. Now get off me, let’s go get cleaned up. I want to finish the movie.”

“Uh huh, so now you want to watch the movie with me!” He doesn’t respond, instead just grabbing you by the waist and dragging you toward the bathroom. 

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[azullumi]

Sorry but your thoughts on designer! Reader X Aventurine?

Like, I want to dress this peacock into so much staff, from tailored expensive suits with unbelievably beautiful patterns to the fucking dresses. (Rine in dress Rine in dress *trembles chews on chair*.)

Or maybe make him a living mannequin when he has free time? Like look at this man, the perfect waist. (new art new art omg)

It's like, so unrelated to IPC that maybe Aventurine would even find peace in having a Reader from a simple world (yeah simple fashion world of course yeah...)

Anyways, if it's boring or silly, you can just delete it!! It's okay, place your needs and desires first!

Cheese for you. 🧀

"the way you look tonight" ; aventurine

summary — you just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much.

pairing — aventurine (w/ fashion designer! reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 1k words ; headcanons

note — i hope u like this nonnieee!! and thank you for the cheese 🧀 hopefully, he wasn't ooc in this one omgosh also this reminded me of the costume i have to make and i haven't started yet hahahaha?? this is day 3 of writing for this man until i have him.

Aventurine likes to adorn himself in expensive jewelry and clothing, to dress himself with extravagant accessories and jewelries (Have you seen the rings on his hands? His watch? The bracelets on his wrists?); that was a well-known fact. So when he met you for the first time as he visited a certain planet whose main trading point was fabric, textiles, clothing, and everything related to fashion, the relationship that will soon blossom will be inevitable. You just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much—it was like a match-made in the universe.

From then on, whenever he has the time to do so, he’ll arrange visits to your planet. It could be surprise visits or ones planned between you two (it’s mostly just him messaging you that he misses you so he’s planning on stopping by soon). Nevertheless, you love seeing him, love the way he always greets you with a hug and a kiss when he sees you. He’ll always bring you presents every time he comes by. Souvenirs from another planet, trinkets and charms that he thinks you would like, and occasionally, patterns, fabrics, clothes, and such.

Aventurine doesn’t mind you using him as your model—he was your muse, after all. He doesn’t mind having to stand still as you take his measurements or see which color suits him better by repeatedly alternating two different fabrics against his skin (it’s like a free color analysis). All the while, he’s entertained by just you talking to yourself and seemingly troubled.

“Hm, I think this one looks good, don’t you think?” You say as you fall into deep thought, holding the fabrics in your hand. You stand in front of the blond-haired man who just watches you the whole time with a relaxed look on his face—his soft gaze follows your every movement and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “No, wait, but this one looks nice too. Why is it so hard to decide?”

You fall into silence, into deep thought, and Aventurine simply waits for your next move. He’s like a living mannequin but he doesn’t complain, afraid that he’ll break your focus if he speaks at this moment.

“What do you think?” Finally, you looked at him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but instead, he smiles and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Have you eaten already?” He’ll ask, caressing the of your cheek so sweetly, so gently. A lull of a touch and you can’t help but to lean against his hand to seek more of his kindness. You’ll answer him with a hesitant tone, “I wasn’t asking that though…” He could immediately tell the answer with just the tone of your voice and the way you avert your gaze away from him.

“How about we go out and eat first? I have a reservation for the both of us at the restaurant down the street. They serve your favorites.”

He just likes watching you as you work; eyebrows scrunched, eyes focused, and gaze unwavering as you concentrate on what you’re doing. Occasionally, he’ll watch over your shoulder as you sketch a new design. If you have long hair, he’ll tie it back for you so that you won’t be bothered by your strands obstructing your sight. Sometimes, he’ll massage your shoulders as he kisses the crown of your head. However, when it’s already late at night, he’ll ask you to go to bed with him already while peppering your face with kisses until you’ll let go of your pencil and give in to his words.

Aw, you can’t afford to buy the fabric? You don’t have enough money to buy the pattern that you like? Everything is too expensive? Fortunately for you, this man is willing to spend millions—or even trillions—of credits just to get you what you want and need. You just have to ask and he’ll provide without hesitation. You’re worried about how you’ll repay him? Just a kiss will do.  A fair and perfect price for it all, right?

While Aventurine brings you to casinos with him, you also bring him to watch fashion shows with you—majority of the whole show, however, he would just be watching you and adoring the way your eyes sparkle and your expression brightens. You’ll ask him how the show was and which one he likes best and he doesn’t know how to answer your question, only thinking of how you looked so lovely at the moment.

PHOTOS OF HIS OUTFITS OF THE DAY!! He’ll randomly send you pictures of him standing in front of a mirror in just a simple pose as he shows you what he’s wearing to work. He likes it whenever you compliment him—tell him he looks good, that he looks amazing in the suit you’ve made, that he looks so handsome and you wish to kiss him. (i’m an avid believer of aventurine having words of affirmation as one of his love languages)

It’s undeniable that he looks good in everything that he wears, much more if it's made by your hands. He wears the clothes you tailored for him or the outfits you have planned for him, seemingly showing them off in a rather subtle yet loud way. He’ll occasionally adjust the cuffs of his wrist, fix his tie even though it’s not even messy, or anything that would grab the attention of the person he’s talking to so that they’ll bring it up in a conversation; “Stop adjusting your coat, Aventurine. I know (Name) designed it for you.” A certain silver-haired girl would say and the man adorned with your work would only answer with: “Aren’t they so talented?”

MATCHING CLOTHING (hello?! i know i already mentioned the matching things in my previous work BUT MATCHING CLOTHING WITH HIM!!), especially ones that you’ve designed and tailored for the both of you. Whenever the both of you are going out for a date, he’ll ask what color you’re going for today or what you’re wearing so that he can match you. Be surprised or not, but the bouquet of flowers he bought for you would also match the palette of your clothes.

The first time you proposed the idea of him wearing a dress, he was baffled and somewhat confused. One minute, you were talking about the design of a suit and asking for his opinion on the matter and the next, you’re asking him what he thinks of dresses. Before he knew it, he was with you, choosing among the many collections of dresses that you have garnered in either your closet or boutique. How could he say ‘no’ to you, eyes wide with expectation and gleaming like the surface of a jewel, how could he ever say ‘no’?

Everything was just so simple with you—a form of escape, a way of running away from the thoughts that binds him. Every moment that he spends with you eases him of the worries, of the stress, of the chains that holds him as if he was a flightless bird born in a cage (you were simply his solace). In your presence, he’ll find tranquility inked into the softness of your skin and he’ll murmur his wishes along the lines of your soul; he wishes everything was this warm and easy.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works

[skipper1331]

Communication is key // Alexia Putellas

Without thinking, you called Alexia, feeling frustrated and disappointed about her behavior.

"Hello amor"

"Were you at the beach with the girls yesterday?"

Since weeks you had been asking if she wanted to hangout and go to be beach, just for some time away from football.

"Yes, why?" she replied, confused.

"I don’t want to fight, but I’m asking since 2 weeks if you want to go to the beach with me and you tell me you‘re busy each time and now you went out with the other girls? To the beach? Even though, you know I’ve been asking…You didn‘t ask if I wanted to join you guys" you said, upset about the fact that Alexia acted that way and that you got so carried away as to even bring it up.

"Eh- um…" the midfielder was silent for a moment, thinking about how to phrase it as kindly as possible "the problem is that Mapi has a problem with you and that’s why we decided as a group that you can‘t join. It wouldn’t end well"

"We‘re a friend group of 5 people…? If she has a problem she should talk to me privately."

The friends group consisted of Mapi, Ingrid, Frido, Ale and yourself.

"Yeah.."

"So, I’m no longer part of the group when Mapi is there? That‘s so nice, Alexia, thanks!" your voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.

Of all people, you at least thought Alexia would defend or support you - you were her girlfriend.

"What do you want to hear from me? The girls asked and I wanted to do something as a group so I went along. And if they exclude you, there's nothing I can do about it. Just chill out, we'll catch up on it at some point."

The betrayal and hurt you felt in that moment, was unreal - how could she say something like that? She was the person who had asked you out a dozens of times with puppy dog eyes. She was the one who begged for your kisses and love. And she was the one who wanted to spend every second of the day with you, no matter what plans either of you had.

Why was she acting so cold and rude now?

"You know what? If you want to hangout with me, then feel free to text me, but I won‘t be running after you, just to get rejected every time, even though you apparently have the time but just don't want to when it’s with me, your girlfriend! So, text me if you want to do something that isn’t having sex, otherwise we'll see each other in training."

With that you ended the call.

Did your friend group really decided that? It didn‘t seem to make any sense. And was even the problem with Mapi? The two of you were friends, never any problem between the two of you. But more importantly: what was the matter with Alexia? Why was she acting weird and distant? Have you done something wrong?

Normally, both of you were all over each other, holding hands, kissing in the storage room or even just an arm around your waist - spending almost 24/7 together. What was happening?

You declined every call that came in after, the caller id always the same.

reina 👑

amor, por favor.

call me back

lo siento

Caught up in your anger, you started to deep clean your apartment, not being bothered to call her back or even reply. The cleaning relaxed you but it also got you thinking. Was Alexia acting like this because she wanted to break up with you? Did she realize that you weren’t worth her time, attention and love? You always had a feeling that Alexia would break up with you at some point, many pretty girls in the world that would die to even just meet Alexia, let alone be loved by her.

That night you went to bed feeling very queasy and stressed - was she really about to break with you? She had texted you multiple times as she also had tried to call you but you didn’t answer.

The next day, you went to training acting as usually but with one exception - you avoided Ale and the rest of your friend group.

You did partner drills with Patri, talked in water breaks with Lucy and ate lunch with Aitana, Keira and Caro.

It was usual that you socialized with other people than your friend group but the unusual part was that Alexia didn‘t follow you around like a lost puppy. Instead she sent longing looks towards you, sad smiles displaying in her face when you dodged her glances as she tried to act tough and unbothered by your ignorance.

"What have you done?" a thick English accent asked the midfielder who was walking towards the changing room.

"Maybe I handled things a bit wrong" she explained, not wanting to reveal too much - a little bit scared of the Lucy Bronze as she had gotten the shovel talk from her when she started dating you.

'If you hurt her, I will haunt and hurt you' Lucy had told the Barcelona captain.

That day, Alexia promised Lucy and herself to never hurt you - not that she intended to anyways.

"You better make up with her otherwise I will have to hurt you" the defender smiled, entering the locker and walking to her cubby.

Alexia was quick to take a shower and get ready, waiting for you in front of the facility. She knew you hadn‘t left yet as you had entered the changing room when she came out of the shower.

She indeed wanted to make up with you, the whole situation a misunderstanding.

When you walked out of the facility, she called after you, "Amor, ¡esperar!" grabbing your hand, stopping you on your short journey to the car, "can we talk?" her voice was gentle and caring.

"Do you want to break up with me?" you asked straight forward, stepping back, trying to protect yourself with the distance yet you knew it wouldn’t help from a potential heart break.

"No no, amor, no. Let me pick you up at 7, okay? I‘ll explain everything"

You thought about it, unsure what to do.

"Okay"

It was Alexia after all, the person who was always honest. If she wanted to explain something, she would.

"Thank you, amor" she pressed a kiss to your cheek, walking you to your car, "be safe" she said as watched you, pull out of the parking lot, feeling so much better now that she had talked to you, even if it was just a few sentences - now that you had smiled at her.

-

5 minutes early, she rang your door bell, shuffling with her feet and fidgeting with her hands - she was nervous.

"Come in" you greeted her, "just need to put on my shoes then we can go"

The midfielder nodded, shyly entering your home as if she hadn‘t been here before.

"You look very beautiful, like always" she smiled, cheeks slowly turning red. Alexia felt like as if it was your first date all over again. She still remembered how shy and nervous she was, wanting to do everything perfect, so you‘d like her and she could ask you on another date. Also she had said the exact same thing when she picked you up for your first date.

"Reminds me of something" you chuckled, as well thinking back to the night where she had taken you out.

"Sí, you‘re getting prettier every day that hasn‘t changed"

Alexia thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, you took her breath away every time she saw you - you were absolutely stunning.

"charmer" you giggled, cheeks a dark shade of red. In that moment, everything felt like it used to be. She wasn‘t acting distant or weird, she was acting like the girl you fell in love with.

Everything is going to be okay.

"Amor, may I?" she asked politely, offering her arm as you had put on your shoes. Wordlessly, you linked your arms, walking towards her car. She opened the door for you, hurriedly rushing over to her side before she started the engine and rested her hand on your thigh. She was glad when you didn‘t push her off - you had missed her touch all day.

The two of you stayed in silence, your favourite songs playing as she drove to her destination. With every metre you got closer, she became more nervous and anxious. She knew she had some explaining to do but also was about to ask you an important question - which was the reason she even had to explain things. She wouldn‘t let a misunderstanding fuck things up with you. She wanted to marry you in the future - your relationship was very serious to her.

(Also she did not wanted to get haunted by a certain scary English defender.)

-

"Why are we at the beach?" you asked, the ocean right in front of you.

"Do you trust me?" the Barcelona player questioned, avoiding your question - she would explain in a moment, you just had to wait and trust her.

"I‘m not quite sure?" Ale raised an eyebrow, "fine, I trust you"

The girl smiled widely, stepping behind you and covering your eyes with her hands, "are you about to murder me?" you joked, knowing damn well that Alexia wouldn‘t dream of letting you fall or hurt yourself in any kind of way.

"Keep walking, amor"

-

After a short walk in the sand, the woman stopped, slowly revealing the sight in front of you.

There was a large picnic blanket, cushions and basket, wine and two glasses standing next to it - it looked romantic.

"Ale- what‘s all of this?" you asked confused, already emotionally touched by the gesture.

She sat down, making herself comfortable before she tapped between her legs, "come here"

Sitting in between her legs, staring towards the ocean and the beautiful sunset while she purred two glasses of wine.

"This is wow" you muttered, not yet leaning into her body as you were still moody at her but still admiring the work and view. It was indeed very romantic, rose petals and candles decorated everything around the two of you.

"I‘m sorry for avoiding you" Alexia started, loosely wrapping her free arm around your midsection, "i didn‘t mean to act weird. I was here with the girls to practice this- they helped me to set everything up and encouraged me for what I’m about to do. Ingrid decorated, Frido made the snacks and well, Mapi carried everything while I was freaking out at home because I didn’t know what to wear. I‘m sorry for letting you think i want to break with you or for acting weird, i was just really nervous these past weeks" she put her wine glass down in the sand, making sure it wouldn‘t fall before she pulled something out of her pocket, "I’m always nervous when I’m around you but this time it was different. I was scared of getting rejected and in return, I rejected you without even realizing."

Hidden in her hand, she gave you her little 'present' - a key.

"I would like you to move in with me." she breathed out, her heart racing.

You turned in her hold, looking at her with wide eyes.

"You‘re sleeping at my apartment almost every day and i can barely sleep without you being in my arms, so i thought maybe you would like stay at my place every night from now on" she rambled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

The widest grin broke out on your face and you kissed her - you had been wanting to bring up the topic since awhile now, yet always feeling too shy to do so as you knew Alexia loved her personal space and alone time. You didn’t want her to feel pressured or to feel like she had to agree.

But now you’re even happier that the idea and suggestion came from her - she wanted this too - she was ready for the next step.

"I’d love to" you answered, kissing her rapidly as she giggled while you did so.

"I‘m glad" she sighed in relief, puckering her lips once again.

More kisses, please

You happily accepted the key.

The key wasn’t just any key, it symbolized that it was the key to her heart and home, that communication was the key to happiness, and that her nervousness couldn't always open all doors - which she had realized now;

Spending the whole at training without you was horrible. She never wanted to experience that again.

-

As your little picnic date continued (both of you back at being sickeningly in love with each other) the sun almost down completely, a question popped up in your head, "Mapi doesn’t have a problem with me, does she?"

A loud hearty laugh escaped your girlfriend, "no, amor, you‘re perfect. When you called me the girls were with me and I panicked and Mapi was signing something, so that‘s what came to my mind with her wild gestures. I‘m sorry if it sounded rude. Everybody loves you and you are very much a part of the group, my favourite member in fact"

Weirdly, you could imagine Mapi way too well and Alexia never lied to you. Added to that she was a horrible liar, her brows slightly raising when she lied or was trying to.

You believed and trusted her. It all made sense now - you remember how nervous she was when she asked you out on a date, you remember how nervous she was when she actually took you out, also how nervous she was when she asked the girlfriend question and how nervous she was just today.

You could only imagine how nervous she would be if she ever decided to ask you to be her wife.

Which Alexia definitely would do.

She would always be nervous around you, it‘s you - you‘re way too perfect for this world, so Ale had every right to be nervous every day anew - you were the key to all her happiness.