#i really hope you'll get what i'm trying to express here ;;

[andysorbit]

Fair and Square (M)

Idol!Mark x fem!reader

genre: smut, light fluff, blink-and-you'll- miss-it angst

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphylia, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (I'm not telling yall shit about protection. I ain't ya mama.), breeding kink, reader has a bellybutton piercing, slight degradation, mentions of cock warming

word count: 1.3k (I'm lying dude I do not have even a scrap of a clue)

hi @calibabii21... I apologize for the late birthday gift but... I intended to do damage with this one hehe. I hope I was successful 🙂‍↕️

graphics by @cafekitsune! thank you for what you do!!!

please reblog and leave feedback!

"Two months isn't even that long, Mark," You say into his fluff of hair. The unwatched movie plays as you hold him close and he nestles his head against your chest; his breath fans against your skin and all would be right with the world if he wasn't leaving for a South American tour in the morning.

"Don't gaslight me," Mark groans, "And you're still gonna wait til after I get back to get that bellybutton piercing, right?"

You fall quiet and look at the new movie that's loading on the television. Mark shifts to look at you, "Y/n, you gotta let that thought marinate... Like, babe... Two months is plenty of time to really make sure this is what you wanna do."

"Mark..." You say sitting up. "Jesus of Nazareth, I don't wanna debate this," he chuckles. You watch his gaze drop down as his cheeks burn red. After all this time, he still can't look at you for too long without getting flustered. "Bruh, I literally just sat up," You tease him.

"With the quickness," he shoots back, "At least wait for me to come back so I can hold your hand or something..." You shrug and lean forward to kiss him, eyes fluttering shut as you let him lead. "How could you leave me for two months? That's jerk behavior," You mumble against his lips.

"I thought two months wasn't even that long? See how you like lyin' to me?" he sighs; hands grabbing at your hips to pull you into his lap.

"Dude, what are you up to?" Mark asks you suspiciously. His eyebrows quirk up and he eyes you, "You have that face. Spit it out, Y/n, c'mon."

You shrug, the bellybutton ring is his surprise for later and as much as you would love to show it to him now, you know it'll be worth it to wait. His absence over the past two and a half months has been torture but it's all led up to a moment you know he'll love. Or at least you hope he will.

You turn to him and slip your arm over his torso, "I'm happy to see you. Stop being a jerk," You chuckle softly and with that, he's kissing you like it's the first time he's breathed since the last time he saw you, "You look prettier... That's kinda crazy actually because..."

Mark's random yap spirals is one of the reasons you couldn't leave this man even if you wanted to. It's a wholesome thing he just can't help but fall into when he's with you. You throw your leg over his and his gentle tangent fizzles out, "I'm not gonna be upset if you're trying to get me to nail you to the bed- I mean... I was only gone for eighty-three years... Actually... Come here."

Mark rolls onto back, t-shirt riding up to show the waistband of his CK briefs, "Come have a seat."

You straddle him, "Lazy boy," You chuckle and your hands press down on the firmness of his chest to steady yourself. "Like the sofa," he counters as he guides your hips to drag you back and forth over the swelling bulge in his pants.

"Mark... please," You beg, "Please... Want you so bad." Mark grips your thighs firmly; stopping the rocking motion for a moment, "Is there something you wanna tell me before I take your clothes off?" he asks you. Pausing for a moment you eye him; your mouth opens then closes.

"Is there, Y/n?"

You shrug, "I missed you?" You ask sheepishly. "You did it, didn't you? Of course you did cuz you're fuckin' hard-headed," he sighs and he lifts your t-shirt, "Oh... fuck."

Mark's expression softnes but his dick doesn't and he softly touches the piercing. It's his turn to buffer. Opening his mouth, he takes in a shaky breath before releasing slowly and you smile, "Markie Mark... Say something?" You pipe up.

Fingers still softly toying with the piercing, Mark looks up at you, "It's all healed up?" he asks. You nod.

"What the fuck did you do- get it the same day I left? Y/n, c'mon, baby, really?" he asks incredulously. He's visibly pissed but equally as turned on and you notice it but you pretend not to.

You frown, feeling guilty at the traces of disappointment laced in his tone. "No... I made the appointment the next day and they had a last minute cancelation so they told me to come," You explain. "Oh, okay cool so the very next day," Mark says sarcastically, "That's just great." "Are you mad at me?" You ask him softly. Mark shakes his head, "No way. I just... Like you always keep me in a good place mentally and sometimes I just wanna be your voice of reason and you say I'm your emotional bra so I just wanted to be there for you... Y'know... for support... because that's what bras do..."

You lean forward and kiss him softly, "You're right and I'm sorry," You whisper, "M'sorry... I just... I wanted to surprise you but also I got bored and... I know what you said and you were right but I... I thought maybe you didn't want me to get it done." Mark kisses you back, "Not you demoting me to shitty boyfriend. It's your body and I love you with or without the piercing. I like whatever you like... I'm a simp!"

Mark flips you both over and you softly thud against the mattress, "What's wrong with that?" You laugh. "Nothin'... Not a damn thing... Now... Miss Bellybutton Piercing... I can't let this slide so what do you think I should do?" he's still playful but his eyes are longing and he touches the cool metal of the piercing again. "I thought you said it was okay?" You say with mock disappointment, "I still have to pay for my sins?"

Mark nods, "Nothing is free." You bite your bottom lip and hold his gaze, "Is the price hefty?" You ask him quietly. He nods again and dips down to kiss you, "Oh, honey," he hums; scattering kisses across your face, "Oh, baby... sweetie... cupcake... cutie pie... babygirl..." he presses his tongue to the pulse at the base of your throat and drags it up your chin before pressing a hot kiss to your lips, "You have no idea."

You try to hold onto him but he moves down your body and leaves a trail of kisses as he goes. He stops at your bellybutton and licks the piercing and you skin shivers. The room heats up as Mark drags your panties down, "Make sure you keep score of how many times I make you cum," he bends your legs at the knees and parts them, "That's how many times I want you to tell me you're sorry, okay?"

You nod, "Okay... I'll try," You whisper as you squeeze your eyes shut. Mark nestles himself betwen your legs, "Look at me." You open your eyes and look down at him. Holding your gaze, he takes your hands and brings them to the top of his head, "No trying... Just do it. That shouldn't be too hard since you're so good at staying busy when I'm not around," he says and with that, he's devouring you.

His tongue strokes against your clit fervently and you whine, "Daddy, please!" The sensation is almost too much already. Mark hums, "Now it's 'daddy please', before it was 'yeah fuck that guy'... The nerve," he chides; playfulness lifting his tone a bit as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your pussy.

"Daddy..." You whimper. Your thighs begin to shake and you wriggle your hips, "Gonna cum, daddy... love your tongue, daddy. Fuckin' love it." Mark flicks his tongue over your clit then sucks the pulsing bundle of nerves into his mouth. You reach down to grab Mark's hair and pull his head closer to you; hips bucking wildly and eyes squeezed shut. Your skin burns hot as you chase your orgasm and you cry out when the release washes over your body. Colors swirl behind your eyes and the bubble of pleasure that you were just floating in bursts.

Mark isn't even stopping to give you a moment to recover.

"M- Mark... fuck... Please, daddy... Please, baby..." You plead as you try to push his head away. Mark chuckles against your pulsing heat, "If you can beg and keep score then be my guest but if your apologies don't match up, I'm gonna start back at one but that's fair enough, right?" he explains teasingly. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and you squeal; not knowing of you want him to stop or not, you grab his hair.

He brings you to your peak again and you feel the tears beginning well up in your eyes, "No more, daddy... m'sorry! Oh fuck... daddy, please," You plead. Mark pulls back for a second, "Save the apologies for after. Stop cheating," he says smugly before pressing a kiss to you pussy. He rises up; sitting on his haunches, "Come kiss me," he says and waits for you with the faintest hint of a smirk.

You clamber over to him and he grabs the back of your head. You know how rough Mark intends for this kiss to be but as always, his adoration for you wins and he kisses you like you're his lifesource. "Taste yourself... How lucky am I, right?" he mumbles against your eager lips.

You whine again when Mark lets you go and you watch as he pulls his t-shirt off before staring at you expectantly. "I... What d'you want... what should I do?" Mark smirks, "Oh you're waiting for me to take your nightgown off?" he chuckles, "Get busy, miss independent."

You frown, "But you always do it... And you said before you were gonna do it." Mark slips his hand between your thighs, "Oh, but I also said before that you should wait for me to come back- stop cherry picking."

"I'm not, daddy," You beg. "And on top of that..." Mark ponders, "You said you'd wait for me to come back home but you didn't... Doesn't that make you a liar, baby? Huh?" he strokes you just the way you love it, "Daddy, daddy, daddy... Fuck me... Please, daddy. Oh my God, daddy," You release again, "Daddy, please... please."

Mark releases you and pushes you down onto the mattress, "How many so far?" he asks you softly. You freeze for a moment, your eyes stuck on his and your body shaking violently, "I- uh... three," You reply. Mark chuckles as he comes down to kiss you, "You weren't sure for a second. Love that..." he sits back up and pushes down the waistband of his Adventure Time pajama bottoms along with his briefs. He presses into you slowly and fills you as he bottoms out, "That pussy sucks me in every time, baby... Every fuckin' time," he rumbles against your ear; hips drawing back to pull out of you and he looks down at your swollen pussy to watch as his cock disappears inside you.

You spread your legs wider and accept him just as you always do. Eagerly. You shriek as his fingers draw circles against your clit, "No, Mark, no, Mark, no Mark," You babble as you finally break. Tears roll down the side of your head and your body jolts violently from the collision of his hips against yours. Mark laughs devilishly, "Aw, my baby... Is this too much for you?" he purrs. "Y-yes," You whimper. Mark shakes his head ever so gently, "No, it's not."

You whine louder and heave with each stroke of Mark's fingers over your clit. "You know I'm not gonna cum inside you tonight... Can't stop thinking about how good you'd look with my cum on your stomach."

You nod stupidly and clench around his thick cock, "Daddy," You groan and his fingers speed up. This time, you sob weakly as you come undone, body too weak to anything other than to lie there limply.

"I know you like this shit because you're such a nasty little girl. I don't like being mean to you but you make me do this, baby. You gotta listen to me sometimes. You gonna listen to me more often?" Mark lolls against the corner of your mouth. You nod.

"There you go lyin' again," he chortles, "Last one. Let's make it count." Mark pulls out of you and moves you onto your stomach. Raising your ass into the air, he gives it a slap, "Up."

You raise up and he pulls you close to him; his left arm circles across your torso and he guides himself back into you, "One more time, mama. You're almost done," he coos, "Cum on my dick, baby." His fingers press harder against you and you suck in a deep breath, clenching as Mark fucks into you. You cry; damp body spent and face wet with tears, you clench your pussy as you cum around his cock. Incoherent whines fill the room as you release. You see stars behind your eyelids and Mark pushes your upper half down, "How many times are you gonna apologize to me?" he asks as he grabs your hips. You let out a shaky breath and sob into the mattress; yelping in surprise when Mark pulls out of you and turns you over onto your back.

"How many times, Y/n?" he presses as he traps your arms above your head. "Daddy, please," You squeak desperately. Mark rolls his hips, pubic bone massaging your clit. "How many?" he repeats.

"Four?" You whimper with only a pinch of confidence. Mark quickly pops that bubble too.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Y-yes?"

"Was that a statement? It sounded like a question, Y/n. Are. You. Sure?"

"I am! I am, I am, I am... I'm sure... Daddy, please."

"Good... now apologize," he grunts, "Look at me and apologize. If you look away, I'll make you start over." You wriggle in an attempt to stop his hips from stimulating you so well. You look up at him, "Y- you... said- no... no more," You sob. "Okay so I lied... Are you gonna do something about it?" he asks you and you know he's checking to see if you're in need of the safeword. "I'm- so-rry," You hiccup as you hold his gaze; determined to finish what he started. He gives you a proud smirk, "You're so fucking pretty when you cry for me, baby... So gorgeous..." he praises you as his own orgasm builds up almost entirely. He's waiting for you to finish apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You cry as you release one last time, body finally giving out. You shake and tremble as Mark pulls out of you, "Fuck, baby... Gonna cum," he moans as he squeezes your wrists and bot tighter. It hurts and you moan at the dull ache. Mark jerks himself off, finishing with a spent moan as he paints his cum across your lower abdomen; focusing especially on your piercing, "Yeah, baby... that's it," he mumbles and lays down on top of you

Your trembling body relaxes when Mark sandwiches you comfortably between his own body and the mattress and he kisses you as he eases his cock back into you, "Okay, young lady, good job." He flips you both onto your sides and you lay sticky against each other; thoughts of changing bed sheets and doing laundry miles away.

Mark kisses your cheek, "Are we good? Are we fair? Are we square?" he asks you playfully. He peppers kisses all over your face and you grab his chin to shower him in your own kisses of adoration. "Uh huh... we are. Yeah," You chuckle and he hugs you close, "Fair, square, and in love," he mumbles.

You nod weakly, "Hell yeah, dude."

Mark kisses your neck, "Oh, can tell you something?" he murmurs into your skin. You nod slowly, "Go for it, baby."

"So uh... you said I made you cum four times but I really have no fuckin' idea," he says as he bursts out laughing, "When I asked you if you were sure I was serious!" You rub slow circles into his back and laugh weakly, "I had a feeling you didn't know but at least you weren't a jerk about it," You hum contently.

"I dunno... I made my baby cry," he whispers smugly. You hug him closer, "Okay now you're being a jerk."

Thank you for reading!!!!

[xhdream]

Dinna, I'm here presenting to you preppy!jiseok, who's very cocky and has a corruption kink🤭 He absolutely loves it when you wear a short tennis skirt and a tight top, he looks at your ass when you walk by him after practice or something. You give him a look, and he knows what you want. All his friends want you, and they all want to take your virginity; they even made bets with each other. Jiseok took part in the bet too, but no one knew you were already dating him and you told him to take the bet so you both can rob his rich, posh friends from their money🤭 I say you'll fuck at his family beach house or something like that😌

money on my mind

pairing: preppy!jiseok x preppy fem!reader

genre: smut wc: 3.3k

contains: established (secret) relationship, enemies to lovers trope, forbidden romance trope? (nothing serious), light corruption kink, mentions of virginity, semi? public sex, sub!reader, pet names, (+ slut used once), fingering, oral (m), multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, filming, jungsu cameo

a/n: you didn’t ask for this many words ok i’m sorry >< but no matter what i tried it just kept getting longer, because your idea IS SO GOOD. there’s no way i could just answer it with three sentences… no way. it’s jiseok, and the idea is genius. hope you enjoy it and sorry for the wait <3

Jiseok was your secret for a while.

He didn’t care about you being the daughter of the people his parents are rivals with, but you were hesitant about showing up in public as his girlfriend until wanting to be with him everywhere, all the time, clinging onto his arm, was the only thing you could think about.

And you found the perfect way to make it official in front of your friend group. None of them would’ve ever thought they’ll see the two of you together as something more than the two brats who always make faces of disgust when they are forced to sit next to each other.

“You should participate in the bet.”

“What—“

“The bet,” you repeat as your voice shakes. A moan slips from your tongue before you try continuing your thought with a distracted glance at Jiseok’s face. “Take it and win the money.”

He looks directly into your hazed eyes as his hips move against you slowly. The gentle gliding through your walls barely keep them open, and he sees the pretty fluttering of your curled lashes. Being in each other’s arms with bodies connected into one always makes the two of you look high; like you’re slowly losing grip on reality.

“Faster,” you plead in one quick breath before pressing your head back against the pillow.

“You’re cruel.” He grins before burying his mouth into your neck. “I like it… so hot, baby.” His speech turns more tense as you pulse with stronger vibrations around him. He doesn’t speed up though; he enjoys having you melt down underneath him. “I’m so fuckin’ in love with you, you know that, right?”

Your right hand gets lost in his blond hair, looking to tug on his dark roots so you don’t completely lose control over yourself.

“Make it worth it.”

Jiseok peers at you with a mischievous smirk that makes it clear he’s already looking forward to seeing his friends’ expressions after he claims his reward.

“Let’s pick up the pace, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“When did you get so big?” You lay eyes on the exposed bicep. “Are you working out, Jungsu?”You feel the firm muscles against your palm as you squeeze it gently.

His arms have earned a nice golden tan from the summer sun and the white fitted shirt looks really good on him; complimenting his broad figure even more.

“Yeah,” he smiles flustered so quickly that you almost missed the reaction. “I’ve been going to the gym more often these days.”

You notice the way his cheeks instantly earn a pinkish color from the unexpected attention, causing him to avoid your stare. He’s definitely going to bet double after this. That’s what you want after all, and you’re going to put in the work.

“I’ve been thinking of going too, but I can’t seem to motivate myself enough to do it.” You sigh with a fake pout, running your hand along his broad shoulders before positioning yourself in front of him with the goal to show off your legs. “Maybe we can go together? Some company will be nice, I don’t wanna be just by myself there.”

You can feel Jiseok lifting his gaze up from the ground. He’s behind you, sitting on the chair across from Jungsu with his tenis racket in hands, but the intensity of his stare is warm on your skin like the sun. His eyes skim your figure up and down, stopping right where your short pleated skirt ends as he concentrates on your conversation.

He’s determined to not miss a word.

“I’d like that.” Jungsu blinks up at you with a genuine curl of his lips and eyes partly closed from the bright sunlight.

“Cool.” You smile back, tilting your head in a flirtatious manner. “Gym buddies?”

“Gym buddies.” Jungsu gives you a high five, and you’re just about to add something when you hear the deep voice coming from behind your shoulder.

“I thought you shouldn’t put pressure on your ankle for at least a month or two more,” Jiseok calls out.

“Oh, it’s fine.” You lie nonchalantly after turning around. He fixates his gaze on your chest, dressed in a tight cropped top with no straps, and you know it’s because if he looks into your eyes the real emotions may slip out from his face. However, he seems just as tense while staring at your boobs. “The doctor said I can start working out again, I just need to be careful not to overdo it.”

Jiseok responds with a crooked smile watching you take a seat on the table. As you take out the novel you’re reading for your english class, Jungsu stands up, stretching his arms for the next round.

Jiseok grabs the tennis ball, and a sigh of relief calms his frustration, when he walks pass you and feels your fingers discreetly brushing his as he heads towards the tennis court of his parents house.

“Will this book ever get interesting?” Jiseok scoffs. “Jesus, I’m so bored…”

“Will you stop interrupting me only to complain?”

Not only are you doing him the favour of telling him all the important things he needs to know about the novel, and helping him out with the assignment, more than you should, but you also have to bare listening to him complain like he doesn’t have someone else doing his work for him.

“If you read to me naked, I will.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, but you don’t succeed at fighting back the urge to grin, as you bring back your attention on the open book in your hands. He’s blessed with the most enticing smile in the word, and it never fails to make your stomach swirl. It’s boyish, smug, but so attractive.

“If we weren’t dating…” Jiseok rests his head in his palm after turning on his side, “who else would have a real chance except me?”

“Jungsu is cute.” You reply calmly without looking away from the page.

“Cute?” Jiseok blinks confused. His face scrunches from your quick answer. “Since when do you like cute guys?”

“Why did you ask if you’re just gonna get jealous of my answer?”

“Is this why you’re gym buddies all of a sudden? Cause he’s cute?”

You close the book and put it aside with a deep sigh.

“It’s like you missed the whole point of this bet. I have to get their hopes up a little bit so they can bet more money, baby.”

“I know, I know…” Jiseok whines, turning on his back. His eyes gaze up at the tree which leaves move discreetly from the light breeze. “It’s just annoying having to listen to them talk about you… they really think they have a chance.”

You move closer to him, putting a hand over his chest.

“This means we’re winning.”

Jiseok takes your wrist and guides your hand to his lips, pressing them against your knuckles. A moment later, you sit on his lap and his palms go underneath your skirt; it’s like an automatic reaction and it makes you chuckle.

“I can be cute too.” He says.

“I don’t want that.” You reply quietly before leaning down. The minty scent of the gum he had in his mouth earlier invades your senses as you stare at his plump lips. “You didn’t win me over with a cute attitude.”

You both smile at each other, because it’s true. He’s always been a gentleman, but he never tried to impress you with cute compliments, princess treatment or anything like that… The way you challenged yourselves in class, the games of cat and mouse and the bickering in between pulled you closer till he couldn’t handle it anymore. After realising the hatred you feel towards each other, or more specifically the hatred you’re supposed to feel towards each other was actually lust, attraction, desperation to know each other in more ways than one, Jiseok came up to you and straight up told you he wants you. “Right here, right now,” he said. No pick up lines, nothing.

“But we hate each other,” you stated even though it didn’t sound believable, because it wasn’t true at all. You said it just because you couldn’t think of anything else that wouldn’t make you sound easy.

“I don’t believe it, do you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I actually think you’re good for me, Y/N.”

He fingered you in the library that day. It felt so inappropriate, so… filthy; but most importantly - exciting. Jiseok saw something shifting in you that day, and it made him realise that he was right about you. You had a secret filthy side that’s hiding behind that pure obedient smile of yours, and it was waiting for him to discover it; to make it his.

Two days later he fingered you in the restrooms, that’s when you returned the favour although he said you didn’t need to.

He ate you out in the dressing rooms before his basketball game, and days later he asked to sit next to you for your English lecture so he can sneak his hand under your skirt. He likes doing that to this day - sitting next to you when you’re out with friends and touching you under the table. He enjoys it, because nobody has to know you’re in a relationship especially your parents. Another thing he likes about this is how you let him do it despite this well known fact.

He took your virginity at his house when his parents were out of the country and you got the chance to wake up next to him for the first time.

“What do you want then?” Jiseok keeps shifting his gaze from your eyes to your lips. His hands, hidden from your skirt, are gripping your ass cheeks beneath it. “Tell me, doll.”

He presses his lips against yours into a soft kiss. Once, twice… You remain silent while the contact from his mouth floods your body with adrenaline. The only sound around you is from the nature of the park where you found yourselves a nice secluded spot.

“Why are you suddenly shy, baby?” He smirks after you break the kiss. “I already know how filthy you can be for me.”

As he speaks Jiseok’s one hand moves your panties to the side while the other pushes a finger inside your welcoming arousal. You moan into his mouth as he glides it through your tight walls.

“It’s why you wear these little skirts and tops, right? You let me get what I want whenever I want to…” His finger speeds up, and you hide your face into the crook of his neck. “You don’t really care who sees. You never did.”

“I think it’s time to end the bet.” Jiseok tosses his phone on the table between you and glances in your direction. “It’s been over two weeks now.”

“Hmm..” You’re lounging on the sunbed enjoying the sight of the calm beach as the sun is almost about to set meanwhile Jiseok is sitting on his, hunched over with a certain tense expression.

“It’s perfect.” He exclaims. “Not too late, not too early either.”

“Wouldn’t it look like I’m easy?”

“No, baby.” He disagrees immediately as he walks up to you. “It would look like I’m just too damn good at flirting which I am.” He sits on the edge, stroking your bare leg up and down. “I’m too hard to resist.”

“You’re getting all cocky, Kwak Jiseok.” You tease him with your foot ghosting over his crotch. His hand catches your ankle gently. “Not cute.”

“What do you say?” His eyes fixate on your contemplative expression. What’s there to think about so much? As you stay silent, just maintaining the eye contact with him, Jiseok feels his heartbeat quickening.

“If you insist.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He blurts right away.

You cannot help but laugh while peeling your back off the lounge.

“I’m just messing with you! God, your cheeks got all red.”

You cup his face, smiling at his cute frustrations, but he grips your wrists, speaking out in an even more serious voice.

“I’m putting an end to this, you hear me?”

You pull back to drag down the straps of your light summer dress which is enough of an answer to his words. Jiseok watches you with half parted lips, finally laying eyes on the new pair of Victoria’s Secret lingerie you got.

You’ve talked about this - that you’re going to film just a few minutes as a proof, - but you’ve never discussed how, when, where or which minutes exactly - the beginning, the middle or the end. You completely let Jiseok guide you, but he seems too excited right now. He moves quickly, and kisses you roughly as if he hasn’t done it in weeks. You try to catch up with his speed, but all you can do is gasp and moan at every next touch.

“You can’t stop me, doll.” His tone comes out more intense and raspy. “I’m done listening to them thirsting over your ass, goddamn it. It’s driving me crazy.”

His fingers are already pumping against your g-spot, spreading your wetness and causing even more.

“J-Ji… Jiseok, fuck—“

Your legs dangle in the air as his arm flexes, moving steadily in order to make you cum as soon as possible.

“Slow down,” you whisper in a rush, squeezing your eyes, but Jiseok is too immersed into the fact you’re becoming even tighter than a moment ago.

“C’mon, baby, when have you liked it slow?” He smirks and a second later he feels you clench intensely around his fingers. “Yeah, there you go.”

Your jaw drops in a silent scream as Jiseok thrusts few more times till your climax fades down. Your chest drops heavily as you pant from the overwhelming feeling, it came so quickly and suddenly.

You’ve never cummed so fast before.

Jiseok pulls out his fingers slowly, all coated with your essence and drags them up to your clit. It causes your flushed face to scrunch up again which makes your boyfriend smile. He gives you a light smack.

“You needed this, huh?”

“I did,” you say already feeling relaxed and slightly lightheaded. Jiseok sneaks his fingers through your lips, doubling the pressure in his shorts by making you clean them up with your tongue. “Don’t you need something too?” You ask when you’re done sucking his digits.

Jiseok stands up, getting rid of his clothes. His tanned fit figure positions itself in front of you after you get comfortable with knees planted on the lounge. He looks stunning in this setting with the beautiful sea behind him.

“You can film me.” You say before you lick the side of his cock.

“Not yet.”

That’s all he says, as he stays with eyes shut due to the pleasant rush that's spreading wildly in his veins from your lips wrapped around his tip. You twirl your tongue around his oozing shape, but a moment later Jiseok gets impatient and slides himself all the way in, holding your head steady.

“Fuck, baby…” He groans with his deep voice. He commands his hips to move back and forth a few times, pushing as further as possible into your throat before emptying your mouth. “Give me your wet pussy now.” His soaked cock smacks your cheek lightly as a sign to turn around.

You feel him entering with ease. The pleasure is familiar, but it never feels exactly the same as other times. Every time your bodies connect you get dizzy with even more intense delight; with even stronger lust that only grows your addiction to Jiseok.

His fingertips dig into your hips, threatening to leave marks as the pace of his thrusts increases. He found your sweet spot and he doesn’t plan on slowing down until the knot in your tummy snaps.

“Fuck, b-baby—“ you call out with your weak voice; it keeps shaking from the immense pleasure and Jiseok’s rough pounding. “… gonna c-cum…”

Here at his parents' empty beach house, you can scream as loud as you want, so you don’t force yourself to be quiet nor discreet. You let out a deep wail of emotion that towards the end becomes just a shaky whimper as Jiseok fucks you through your second orgasm. He groans at the same time as you while doing his best to endure the pressure in his cock.

You collapse on your back, squeezing your trembling thighs together, but your boyfriend quickly separates them.

“I want to fuck you all night long,” he utters before his mouth sucks on your neck that’s sticky from sweat and the breeze around you. His body weight settles on top of your chest as his cock shoves into you again, making you whine beneath him. “You feel so fuckin’ good…”

The soothing sound of the waves clashing together blends with your moans as the rush starts doubling inside your core again. You feel how all the energy you had disappears from your body leaving only the overwhelming thrill from his cock turning you more and more sensitive.

“C’mon, my pretty girl, give me more.” Jiseok grunts. “I know you can.”

“Jiseok—“ you begin to say something, but he rises up, placing his thumb on your clit.

“I’m not gonna film shit until you start squirting, baby.”

He reaches for his phone, but the device stays locked in his free hand as the other stimulates your bundle of nerves causing you to squirm with each rub.

“You can do this, doll, look how needy you are.” Jiseok’s voice sounds lower than before as your clenching grows stronger.

His hips are not moving at all. He’s standing steady on his knees, feeling his cock being gripped tightly by your warm walls. He’s trying so hard not to keep his focus on this, but it’s impossible. His fingers speed up on your clit, and he pants heavily while you on the other hand cry out desperately with your silhouette convulsing in front of him. However, Jiseok doesn’t see a flinch of yours, because he cums inside you, and his eyes close shut.

Your clenching during your climax was enough to get him off.

“Shit,” he sighs, meeting your hazy gaze. You look completely washed off, but you still manage to smile after feeling how he spilled all that he had.

Jiseok unlocks his phone and guides the camera at your cunt so he can film the way he pulls out of you. His white cum starts seeping out in a slow thick trail and he makes sure to catch that too.

He keeps the video going as he pushes two fingers inside your hole tempted to fuck his essence back into you. His cock is still too sensitive, and he wants to get one more orgasm out of you.

“One more, pretty doll,” he whispers while pumping his digits, “this pussy is doing so well for me, keep it up.”

The camera memorises all the lewd squelching you do; all the messy juices emerging out of you as Jiseok’s fingers furiously bump against your deepest spot. Each and every whimper that slips from your lips in addition to your boyfriend’s praises.

“… can’t—“ you choke in the middle of your hitched breaths. “J-Jiseok, I can’t.. can’t…”

“Don’t say that, baby,” Jiseok fakes a disappointing look while keeping up the pace. “C’mon, you’ve been acting like a slut so many times for me, don’t get shy now. Show them what I thought you.”

You don’t realise when it happens; you feel too high to recognise anything else except your own crazy heartbeat and the burning in your core that makes you feel like you’re going to explode any second.

Jiseok’s phone gets sprayed when you succumb to the pressure and let go. You don’t even have the energy to let out a proper moan, you just gasp as the juices make Jiseok’s arm wet along with the lounge chair and the camera that catches everything.

Now, all that’s left to do is to send the video to the group chat, and get your money.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

[wanderpawn]

My Dearest Furina

neuvifuri fluff ✧˖°.

word count: 3,085

summary: It's been a quite a few months since Furina has left the Palais Mermonia to live on her own, and her mental health hasn't been the best. But when she receives a letter from her closest friend Neuvillette, she decides it might be time to let her walls down for the person she trusts most.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, descriptions of mental health medications and intrusive thoughts, they/them pronouns for neuvillette, neuvillette comes out as nonbinary

✧ sfw, fluff, slight hurt/comfort ✧

Furina gazed somberly at the colorful assortment of pills and capsules that speckled the white countertop she stood before. Her knees were weak, and her hands trembled inexplicably as she gripped the sharp edge, tears burning at the backs of her eyes.

The early sun’s rays reflected through the slightly dusty window that faced her on the other side of the counter in her new home. The light gleamed as it passed through the assortment of translucent orange bottles that lay about, the various names written upon them unpronounceable to the average person. 

It had been quite a while now, since life had been this way; ever since Furina had lost her archonhood, and she had moved out of the Palais Mermonia, into her own smaller home. 

It wasn’t the size of the home that bothered her, though. If she really had to admit it, it was the loneliness that came with it. 

The loneliness of not leaving the house. 

The loneliness of taking so many medications.

The loneliness of suffering from such awful thoughts.

And of course, the loneliness of being the only one who had to suffer from such curses.

The former Hydro Archon let out a shaky breath, releasing her clenched fists and moving to delicately brush the collection of pills off the kitchen surface and into her other hand. She tilted her head back, forcing the pills into her mouth and taking a sip of water, and then tilting forward, swallowing. Feeling herself gag, she quickly forced down more water, her hands shaking even more than before.

Once she recovered – as she now did twice a day, every day – Furina sank into her kitchen chair, picking up the day’s mail as she wiped her eyes with her free hand.

‘Bills… solicitors… news… catalogs… more bills…’

‘…Wait, what’s this…?’

Furina’s eyes widened as she gave the letter an anxious once-over.

‘I’d recognize that stationary anywhere.’

The ticklish burning sensation of unwarranted panic raced through her veins as she tore the envelope open, pulling out the heavy-weighted, satiny sheet of paper with her perpetually  clumsy hands.

My Dearest Furina,

How has life been treating you? It has been quite a number of weeks since the last time we’ve met. It does make me wonder how often you leave your home, and for that I worry significantly. 

If you happen to have some extra free time, do feel free to visit the Palais Mermonia whenever you are feeling up to it. I know I, as well as everyone else here, would be delighted to see you again.

I can’t speak for the others, but in my personal opinion, it’s been significantly duller around here without your presence, and I do find myself missing your charisma quite a bit. The halls are rather… empty.

If you can’t make it here in person soon, please at least let me know how you’re doing. As I said before, I worry about you quite a bit.

Most Fondly,

Neuvillette

A drop of water landed on the paper. 

Then there was another one.

One after another, dark spots appeared on the smooth, ivory-colored sheet in her grip.

Furina lifted a hand to her face, and felt warm wetness streaking down her cheeks. The paper crinkled slightly in her other hand.

Oh… not again…

‘It seems like Neuvillette really… cares about me…’

He’s just sending me letters to be nice. 

‘He’s a really good friend…’

He probably doesn’t miss me at all.

‘I should… go visit him…’

I mean nothing to him.

‘I’m… going to go visit him.’

Furina sat up in her chair. She sniffed loudly, and wiped the remaining tears off her cheeks with her sleeve.

“I’m going to go visit him,” she spoke aloud to herself. Her voice sounded weaker than she remembered.

Furina cleared her throat, and spoke, once again.

“I’m going to go visit Neuvillette.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Furina sat awkwardly in a chair outside Neuvillette’s office. Her back was very straight, her feet flat on the floor, and her perpetually shaky hands rested in her lap as she nervously twirled her fingers.

After a few minutes, she heard a quiet stumble to her right. Her head snapped instinctively towards the sound, only to find Neuvillette resting his hand on the back of the chair she sat in.

“My apologies,” he spoke as he held his head in his other hand, “It seems I’ve lost my balance… again…”

Furina gave him a small smile. “Dummy… you should be using your cane. And not standing up so fast.”

He raised his head to face her and sighed. “Yes yes, I know, but isn’t it I who should be scolding you for not leaving your house for months on end? Let alone, for not coming here to visit me at all–”

“When did you become so needy?” Furina laughed.

Neuvillette frowned. “I am not needy, I’m just worried about you.”

“Yes, and we all needed a reminder of your massive crush on me after these past months of separation.”

The Chief Justice stood up straight once more, turning to walk towards his office.

“I feel as though you wish to continue this privately?”

Furina stood to follow him, her slightly shaky smile widening a tiny bit, as she could just barely make out from walking behind him that the tips of his ears were slightly tinted pink.

“I don’t see why not.”

・・・・・・・

Furina sank down into the soft, plush couch in Neuvillette’s office; a position she had been so familiar with for such a long time, and yet somehow she hadn’t even realized how much she missed it during the recent time she had been on her own. It almost felt… welcoming. 

Neuvillette approached the coffee table, the tray of cakes and tea he held in his hands making delicate clinking noises as his hands trembled. Furina thought about how for as long as she had been friends with the Chief Justice, he had been shaky and clumsy. And although no one else was as lucky as she saw herself to be for getting to know this fact about him, she had never understood before why he was this way. 

‘Now I understand… I’m the same way….’

Her typically awkward friend carefully placed the tray down on the table in front of her, then sat down on the couch directly across from her, folding his hands in his lap. Although his actions were in character, he seemed significantly more relaxed than had been for quite some time. 

Furina smiled at him, and he gave a small smile back.

“So… I suppose we should start off with the basics,” Neuvillette spoke finally, after a few minutes of the pair staring at each other with blank smiles on their faces.

“How have you been, Furina?”

Furina’s smile stiffened slightly, though she maintained it well. 

“Good, good…” She twirled her hands in her lap anxiously. “Yes, I’ve been quite alright.”

The Hydro Dragon’s expression softened as he reached for his glass.

“Are you sure?”

The two of them made eye contact as he took a sip of water.

Furina’s gaze danced about the many objects and furniture that decorated the room.

‘She’s anxious…’

Placing the glass on the table once more, Neuvillette had a concerned expression on his face. “You can tell me what’s going on, you know. I still care about you quite a bit, Furina.”

The former Archon shuffled awkwardly in her seat.

‘Should I just tell him what’s going on…?’

Of course not, he doesn’t really care about you.

‘I don’t want to listen to these thoughts anymore…’

Nobody will ever understand you.

‘Maybe… maybe I'd feel better… if I could just talk to someone…’

Furina glanced up, locking eyes with Neuvillette. An expectant, yet worried look contorted his features.

Furina swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I just… my thoughts… they’ve been… torturing me…”

Her eyes flickered out the colorful stained glass window, where the sun’s rays peeked out from behind a couple of slightly gloomy, gray clouds.

“...What do you mean by that?”

“You… probably wouldn’t get it…”

There was a pause. 

“I’d like to hear about it anyway.”

Furina’s gaze snapped to meet Neuvillette’s, and the smallest, yet most comforting smile pulled at his lips.

She took a deep breath. “Well… I suppose they won’t… shut up…. They’ve just been so… doubtful… Telling me everything I’ve done wrong… and that people don’t actually like me…. That my friends don’t actually like me… Like you, who I know in my heart would never be mean to me. And yet, the doubt is always there. It never goes away anymore.”

Neuvillette was silent for a moment, with a contemplating expression on his face. He stood slowly, walking over to the large window. He placed his hand against the clean glass, and Furina knew he was watching for signs of rain.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, staring at her hands that rested in a knot atop her thighs.

“Do not apologize,” the Chief Justice turned towards his friend once more. He appeared much more somber now than he did when they first sat down together.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.”

Hearing this, Furina’s eyes widened. 

Neuvillette made his way back over to the sitting area, however, this time he sat next to Furina, a few safe inches away from her. He faced straight forward, his eyes fixated on something across the room. Furina tilted her head to look up at his face, her own expression softening as she thought about how small the distance was between them at the moment. She was so focused on her friend’s words and proximity that she didn’t even notice her heartbeat quickening slightly.

“When the thoughts begin racing, there is not much one can do to ease their anxiety,” Neuvillette spoke slowly, deliberately. “I have experienced the same phenomenon too many times to count. For me, however, it is more about the undeniable fact that others do not view me as I view myself.”

“Ah… I know you’ve always felt like an outsider in Fontaine… That’s what you’re talking about, right?”

Now it was Neuvillette’s turn to take a deep breath. His posture faulted slightly, his hands resting loosely on his knees. It seemed to Furina as though he was avoiding eye contact.

“Of course, that is always a given… Though I am intentionally describing something I’ve meant to tell you for quite some time now. Because you’re talking about intrusive thoughts, which I also experience, and I want you to know that you are not alone. Which is why I’ll tell you that… I am not as masculine as you might think I am. In fact… I am not a man at all.”

Furina blinked a few times to clear her blurry eyes. When her eyes focused again, Neuvillette seemed to be looking at her through his peripheral vision, their gazes locking.

“Why… did you wait over five hundred years to tell me such an important fact about yourself, Neuvi?” She smiled weakly.

“I was waiting for the right time,” He replied stiffly. “Now, please, let us continue to talk about your intrusive thoughts.”

Furina reached over to take one of his hands in hers; an impulse scarcely acted on between the two of them, despite how often it has been experienced by both parties. Neuvillette’s gaze settled on their locked fingers.

“What pronouns would you prefer I use for you?” 

“That’s quite alright, Furina– you don’t need to change the way you speak. I know it’s too inconvenient–”

“Nonsense,” She scooted closer to him. “I want you to be happy with how people see you. And you can start by telling me.”

Neuvillette averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed from the embarrassment of being in the spotlight– even if it was with the person he trusted the most out of anyone.

“Ah– they… they/them… would be nice,” Their grip on her hand tightened, and they used their other hand to shield their nervous face from their friend’s anticipatory eyes.

“Got it,” Furina smiled reassuringly.

Silence filled the room once more as Neuvillette attempted to calm their nerves. Furina took the opportunity to rest her head against their shoulder, which only made them blush more.

“...Are we going to talk about intrusive thoughts again…?” Neuvillette finally spoke as they stared at their intertwined hands, which rested atop the now nonexistent gap between the two of them. 

“Hm?” Furina looked up at them, her soft eyes and her gentle smile warming Neuvillette’s heart.

“T-the conversation… about intrusive thoughts…?” They smiled awkwardly back at her.

“Oh! Right,” Furina sat up once more, and the sudden lack of warmth against their shoulder made Neuvillette shiver slightly. “I was so distracted from your confession that I totally forgot about our conversation!” She replied, twirling her hair with her free hand.

“I guess… I just feel so weighed down by all the nagging in my head… it’s always beating me up and making me feel awful about every little thing I do… And it’s gotten a whole lot worse since I started living on my own…”

Neuvillette sighed. “May I offer some words of wisdom? Based on personal experience, of course.”

Furina looked up at them, their eyes meeting once more. She nodded quietly.

Still smiling softly at her, Neuvillette began,

“I believe when a person worries about things excessively for no good reason until it becomes detrimental to their health, it is important to think of the source of the thoughts… When you worry about if you’ve fallen into another pattern of constantly playing a part in your daily life; or maybe wondering whether other people see you as a man, woman, or your ideal neutral self; or even something more trivial, like if you turned the lights off in the kitchen before you left to go shopping; perhaps it can be because it’s what you’ve always done for so long… so long that you get accustomed to it, and then the pattern becomes impossible to break. So it’s almost like every time you start to think about breaking the pattern, you have to commit to becoming an entirely new person. And then, even after you’ve gotten halfway to your goal, it can all come crashing down on you at any moment, and you’ll have to start all over again, from the very beginning.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. But finally, Neuvillette’s blush had grown too obvious, and they turned their head to shield their face with their hand once more, thus breaking eye contact.

As Neuvillette faced the other direction, Furina shifted her position until she was sitting in their lap, with her arms tightly wrapped around them, her head resting on their chest and a content smile on her face.

“Ah… Furina, what are you doing…?” Neuvillette’s hands hovered in the air on either side of her, their face tinted a sweet sanguine shade. 

“It’s called cuddling, Neuvi. And you’re supposed to hug me back!”

“Whatever you want is fine with me,” They replied, moving their arms to gently encircle Furina’s slightly smaller frame. One of their hands softly brushed against her ends of her fluffy bob haircut as they pulled her close. Glancing down at her face, which was only inches from their own, they saw her eyes were shut, and she was breathing rhythmically.

“Furina,” Neuvillette whispered. “Are you asleep…?”

The perpetually stressed former Archon stirred slightly, but she remained calm. Then, she drowsily whispered her reply, “You’re so… comforting… Do you know that? You’re my favorite Hydro Dragon…”

Neuvillette’s face had a tint of sadness to it. They empathized greatly with the insurmountable amount of pain Furina must have gone through in the past months, centuries, her entire life– and they really took to heart for the nth time the sorrow of having had to go through it all alone. 

They slowly moved a hand towards Furina’s forehead, gently brushing her bangs aside. They couldn’t feel the texture of her skin through their gloves, but Neuvillette could tell her skin was warm and flushed. Leaning forward, they placed a loving kiss to her forehead. Furina wouldn’t remember it, and if you asked Neuvillette about it, they would deny it. But despite the fact that at the time, neither of them completely realized the full extent of their feelings for each other; the words “I love you” remained unspoken in the air that surrounded them, as they both finally felt at peace in the other’s embrace. 

Despite their lack of understanding of human emotions, the Hydro Dragon– Furina’s Favorite Hydro Dragon, mind you–  had somehow been left with an almost giddy smile on their face. They closed their eyes, muttering one last hope to their dearest friend before they drifted off to sleep.

“I wish for this world to be more gentle on you, my dearest Furina…”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

~ Bonus context/conversation that I couldn’t fit into the story ~

“So, Neuvillette– how did you figure out you were nonbinary~?”

“Ah, um… well… you know how Archons are inherently genderless?”

“Hmm… yes, I think so…”

“Actually… Dragons are much the same. It was only when I gained a human form when I began to be addressed as ‘Monsieur.’ Indeed, it wasn’t my choice, but I just went along with it… Until now, anyway.”

“I see, I see… so you never had a gender in the first place?”

“...Yes, indeed… accompanied by my general lack of understanding of human mannerisms… Well, I never quite understood the whole concept of ‘gender’ at all. Which I think is what led to the piled-up insecurities that drove me to inform you, finally.”

“Hmm… Well, nonetheless, I’m very glad you told me. You can tell me what’s going on, you know. I still care about you quite a bit, Neuvi.”

“Hold on… aren’t those the words I said to you that day?”

“Teehee~!”

“Sigh… It is good to see you acting more playful, though…”

“Only for you, my Most Favorite Hydro Dragon~!”

“How many other Hydro Dragons do you know, anyway?”

“N-none in particular… ehehehe…. But you’re definitely my favorite!”

“You’re… my favorite, too…”

And from that day on, Furina continued to introduce Neuvillette as her “Favorite Hydro Dragon, Neuvillette. For their gender is not Monsieur, nor Madame, but much rather, Hydro Dragon.” (Although they could never stop themselves from getting embarrassed any time Furina mentioned any of that to other people.)

notes: thank you so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed my little self-indulgent brainrot fic :D

if you want to see the fic on ao3, here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636109

[sanguineterrain]

how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home

really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶

jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓

request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.

You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.

"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.

Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"

"Indeed I am."

"Need a ride?"

You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.

"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."

"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."

You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.

"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."

You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.

Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.

"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."

"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."

You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."

You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.

It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.

Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.

You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.

You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.

****

The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.

Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.

"Jay, h—"

"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"

You tense, guilt knocking into you.

"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."

Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.

"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"

"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"

"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."

His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.

"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"

He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"

Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.

"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."

"Can't lose you," he chokes out.

"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."

He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.

"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."

"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."

You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"

"In a minute."

Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.

"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.

He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.

"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?

Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡

☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something

WC : around 2,000

You can read the part two here & the part three here

Kid

Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 

Seriously, Kid, ugh. 

So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.

Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 

Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 

So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 

"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.

Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 

He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"

He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.

"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.

He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 

"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 

And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.

Zoro

Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?

He's trying his best.

Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 

He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 

Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 

"Now open your legs for me" 

Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 

He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 

Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 

If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.

"Such a brave girl"

Law

As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 

He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 

"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 

As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 

He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 

And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.

"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 

He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.

Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 

"You're ready?" 

He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"

Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.

Sanji

Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.

Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 

Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 

Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 

Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.

As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)

You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.

Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 

Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 

Sanji is so sweet please, help.

[wasteddmoondust]

teacher || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!

"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."

James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.

He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.

Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.

"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.

You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.

You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."

You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.

"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.

"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."

You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."

There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.

"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."

"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.

"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."

You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.

He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.

Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.

His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.

"Mr Potter-" you start.

"Please, you can call me James-"

"Your son is my student."

"He won't be by next week."

"It will be very unprofessional of me-"

"I don't hear a no, though..."

And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.

Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.

You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.

You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"

James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"

He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.

"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.

You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."

He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.

You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.

a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!

[tonyspank]

WH0 R U???

Warnings: Professor!Reader, Tara eye-fucking you, and that’s all I believe.

Summary: Tara’s attractive Professor comes to the rescue.

A/N: I’ll be doing a part 2 soon w smut 🥲

part 2

Several years of school, scholarly work, and teaching experience led you here.

To Blackmore University. You were younger than the average professor, but your dedication and passion for education set you apart.

You were professional and not one to be pushed around. That much was clear when you set foot inside your literature classroom for the first time.

English was always your favorite subject, and you excelled in it throughout your academic journey. So, why wouldn't you pursue a career in teaching English at the university level?

However, for the next few months, you won't be teaching literature. Instead, you'll be filling in for your co-worker Laura, who's away on FML, taking on the role of teaching film study.

While you may not have much experience teaching film, Laura was desperate for someone to cover her classes, and you were willing to help out. She's been nothing but sweet to you. Plus, how hard could it be? You've watched movies before.

When you walked into the classroom on your first day, late in the afternoon, you were greeted by a bunch of drama kids who were honestly confused; you could see it in their faces.

They were expecting Laura, their experienced film study teacher, but instead they got you, someone with little to no teaching experience in film.

"Professor Y/LN?" Jason Carvey, a student from your previous class, asked with a puzzled expression.

"What happened to Laura? We were really looking forward to her class."

You took a deep breath, placing your belongings on the desk at the front of the classroom.

"Unfortunately, Laura had an unexpected personal matter to attend to and won't be able to teach this semester. But don't worry, I may not have much teaching experience in film, but I'll try my best."

You reassured the students, hoping to alleviate their disappointment. "Professor Crane provided me with some materials and resources to help guide us through the semester. Additionally, I've been doing my own research to ensure that we have a fulfilling learning experience in this class."

You give the class a tight-lipped smile before opening your briefcase.

"Well, shall we get started?"

Tara didn't know exactly what it was about you that made her eyes widen and her heart begin racing. Sure, anyone could see you were attractive, young, and obviously confident, but there was something more captivating about your presence.

Was it your voice? Was it how you commanded the room with your words? Or perhaps it was the way you'd lean back against the desk, crossing your built arms as your eyes scanned the room, exuding an air of authority.

Tara found herself drawn to you like a magnet, unable to tear her gaze away. She was intrigued by the air of mystery that surrounded you, wondering what secrets lay behind your confident façade.

As class went on, Tara's dark brown eyes scanned over you like a predator assessing its prey. From your perfectly styled hair to your amazingly kept eyebrows, your enchanting y/e/c eyes, to your sultry lips—don't get her started on your sculpted jawline.

You were a sight to take in, captivating and commanding attention without even trying. You presented yourself with an effortless grace that made it impossible for anyone to look away.

Your white button-up shirt was crisp and tailored, hugging your form in all the right places, and your black slacks were perfectly pressed, accentuating the length and strength of your legs.

Tara's stare flew back up, staring at the bulge in your pants, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and desire—

"—Tara, is it? What do you think?" Tara quickly snapped out of her momentary distraction, her cheeks still flushed.

She cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure before responding, "Oh, I'm sorry. Could you please repeat the question?"

You smile, showcasing your charming dimples and perfect smile. While Tara was in her trance, you found yourself relaxing into the class's discussion, feeling like you no longer needed to put on your strict professor persona.

You leaned back, crossing your legs. "How do you think directors like Quentin Tarantino push the boundaries of traditional storytelling in their films? Do you believe their unique approaches have a lasting impact on the film industry?"

Tara nods, playing with the pencil that sits in front of her. "Yeah, I think directors like Tarantino definitely push the boundaries of traditional storytelling, especially with their unique approaches that challenge the audience's expectations and keep them engaged. Like Kill Bill and Pulp Fiction, for example, and how he used non-linear narrative structure and unconventional use of violence to create a distinct cinematic experience that stands out from the mainstream. Peak cinema at its finest."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed. "You surely know your film." The freckled-faced girl giggles in response, dropping her gaze to her hands.

At the end of the lecture, Tara approaches you with a small smile on her face. You look up from your notes, which Laura had given you, and it also confuses the fuck out of you. With a quirked eyebrow, you meet Tara's gaze, your face softening.

"Oh, Tara. Need something?" Tara hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd accept my late work. Professor Crane gave me extra time to complete it, but I still couldn't finish on time. I understand if you can't, but I thought it was worth asking."

You bite on your lower lip, not noticing how quickly Tara's eyes drop to the action. "Uh, sure." You rip out a piece of paper from your notebook and write down a quick note.

"Here's my number. I lost the login to my email, so this will have to do. Send me your late work, and I'll make sure it gets to Professor Crane. Just make sure to include your name and the assignment details in the text so there's no confusion. I'll do my best to help you out."

Tara's eyes light up with relief as she thanks you profusely. "I really appreciate it, thank you so much." You nod, giving her a tight-lipped smile before focusing back on your notes.

A few days later, you're home alone, eating a bowl of ice cream while you watch the movie Stab. Suddenly, your phone buzzes with a new message. Your eyes fight to tear away from the screen, and you reluctantly pick up your phone to check the message.

+1 (347) 871-1921: wh0 r u???

You squint at the unfamiliar number, puzzled by the message. After a moment of hesitation, you reply.

You: I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong number. Who are you trying to reach?

+1 (347) 871-1921: profdsser y/ln

You furrow your brow, trying to decipher the cryptic message. It doesn't make any sense to you. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decide to respond one more time. You: I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying. Can you please clarify?

+1 (347) 871-1921: rolling eyes emoji

+1 (347) 871-1921: three ht poreffesor whofilling for ms crane?

Was this Tara? You put down your bowl of ice cream; this had to be Tara. And she had to be drunk. You take a deep breath before responding again.

You: Tara, is that you? Are you okay? It seems like you're drunk.

+1 (347) 871-1921: ummmmmmmmm

+1 (347) 871-1921: busted

You: Tara, I'm really concerned about you. Is everything alright? Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help.

Tara: iamat the frt house

Tara: canyoucum pik me up, pleas?

You twist your lips, concerned about Tara's well-being and the fact that she is asking for a ride. Surely she had friends with her. You didn't want to leave her stranded, but you also didn't want to be the professor driving their students home from a wild party. However, you take a moment to gather yourself before responding.

You: Of course, Tara. I'll be there to pick you up. Just send me the address, and I'll be on my way.

Tara has started sharing their location with you.

You see the location pop up on your phone, quickly checking the estimated time of arrival, and mentally prepare yourself to pick up your drunk student.

[literaila]

admissions

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: it's midnight and satoru's bored

warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety, and gojo &lt;3

a/n: angst tomorrow?

last part | next part

*

second year, month five.

you're sitting on your bed, reading through an old textbook that nanami gave you (for some indiscernible reason) when there's a knock on your door. 

pounding, actually. it shakes the walls and makes you jump. 

there's a distant chuckle from the other side of the door. 

no one really comes to check in on you, so this is unusual. even after living at jujutsu high for four months, you're finding it difficult to fit in. 

maybe it's the fact that you were a month late to join your classmates, maybe it's because you find yourself pushing any available person away (because of fear, or insanity, or...), or maybe it's just that you can't relate to anyone for the life of you. 

but, either way, the last person to knock on your door was yaga, who came to wake you up to go out on your second day here. 

and, it's midnight, so unless someone's dying-- 

you sigh, shaking your hair out of your face. your eyes burn from staring at the small text for so long, so you rub them, hoping that you fell asleep and this is a dream. 

it's not, apparently, because there's a second knock, much louder than the first. so you reluctantly get up and go to the door. 

you try to tip-toe across the floors, hoping that the person hellbent on speaking to you can't hear you creeping up to the peephole. 

"let me in," someone says because they have any right to demand anything of you. 

you cross your arms like he can see you, and wait. 

"y/n?" gojo whines, and there's a thud as he slumps against the door. you can almost hear him breathing. "please. it's important." 

you wait another moment, for an explanation (which is unlikely) or for him to leave (which won't happen). you should've pretended to be asleep. then, after you realize he's going to wait, you sigh and unlock the door. 

and when you open it, gojo falls right on top of you. 

"ugh," you say, pushing him off, not caring about the two seconds it takes him to regain his balance. "you're heavy." 

" i work out. i'm made of muscle." 

you roll your eyes. "what do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. you make sure not to open the door all of the way. lord knows that gojo has a way of slipping through the cracks. 

"no one else is around," he whines, "and i'm bored." 

"okay? go step on some ants or burn down your room or something. i'm going to bed." 

you should be nicer to your classmates--the people whom you literally entrust your life with--but you can't help your hard exterior. at least you know that no one will be able to break through it if you don't let them. 

and plus, gojo kind of annoys you (and is maybe, a little bit, amusing).

gojo looks you up and down with a brow raised. how you're able to see him from behind his ridiculous sunglasses, who knows. 

he's clearly questioning your outfit and the shoes you're still wearing inside your room. it was a mistake to stay in your uniform. 

"you don't look very tired," he says, smiling at you. his face is unwrinkled and youthful. he looks like a boy and acts like a child. 

"you're terrible at reading people." 

"hey, no i'm not. i can tell you want to hang out with me." 

"can you?" 

"mm-hmm," he hums, grinning as he tries to lean forward, into your room. 

"where's suguru?" 

he gives you a skeptical look. "why do you wanna know?" 

you snort. "cause usually you'd be bothering him." 

"oh," he grins, undeterred by your insult, "he went to see his family." 

you frown. "oh." 

"and before you ask, shoko said that she's tired of me," he pouts a bit, but behind his notorious smile. gojo is an illusion of expressions. you've never seen anybody's face move so quickly, or shift so subtly. "now can i come in?" 

you weigh the cost and benefits of allowing satoru gojo to intrude on your saturday night, and how likely you'll be subjected to him in the future. (is he going to damage you if you let him in? are you going to let him break you?).

but he's leaning down so you can see the tips of his lashes, and he's smiling like he already knows your answer. 

so you sigh, hesitantly, and open the door a bit more. "don't touch any of my stuff." 

"wow," gojo says as he walks in, by-stepping you and ignoring the glare you shoot his way. "you're a terrible decorator." 

he's right. you haven't bothered to put anything up on the walls, even after almost half a year. a small part of you has been too worried that you won't be here for long. that you might die, or... 

"sorry it's not up to your standards," you roll your eyes, going back to sit on your bed and leaf through the stupid textbook again. "but, you know, luckily, you have your own room. i can show you where it is, if you forgot. we can go there now." 

"subtle," he says and messes with a couple of books on your shelf. you doubt he's going to pick one up and ruin it, so you ignore him. 

you could complain about him touching your things like you just told him not to, but it's probably not going to get you very far. plus, you don't want to say something he can laugh at. or something to make him leave. 

but after a moment, you can't help yourself. 

"why are you up, anyway?" you ask him, trying to sound more annoyed than you are. "didn't you have to leave early for a mission this morning?"

"are you keeping tabs on me?" 

"you were bragging about a 'solo' mission all through dinner last night. it was impossible not to overhear." 

gojo sighs. "i don't get a lot of sleep. it's too lonely." 

"i've heard some very interesting rumors about you and suguru's cuddling rituals." 

he grins but doesn't say anything, teasing you with just his eyes. 

after a second of it, you ask, "don't you have a family to go home to?" 

he turns to you, tilting his head, long fingers tapping along your appliances. "clans are more like... begrudged allies than families. i haven't seen my parents in..." he whistles, shaking his head. but it doesn't seem to bother him, because he shrugs after, and resumes his snooping. 

that... actually explains a lot. 

at least he's like the rest of you. 

gojo, abandoning your books--which he probably can't read--goes to sit down on your swivel chair, spinning around. "what about your family? don't you miss them?" 

you give him a tired look. "seriously? you think i don't know that you guys talk about me when i'm not around?" 

gojo bites his cheek, having the gull to not even blink, and then a reluctant smile makes its way to his lips. "who told you?" 

"haibara can't keep a secret to save his life. don't gossip around him anymore." 

he shakes his head, grinning at you again. gojo knows no shame. "well you started pretty late into the semester," he says, "that's not very typical." 

you roll your eyes. 

"so. not going home?" 

"i'm not welcome in my parent's house, anymore," you say, trying to act like the words mean nothing. you could be discussing your favorite color. "as i'm sure you know." 

"did they kick you out?" 

"do you really want to talk about this? it'll probably bore you." 

he shrugs. "nothing else to do." 

you sigh, shutting your textbook.

maybe it's because gojo doesn't seem to actually care, or because you've been alone all day--with lots of time to spend spewing over choices that weren't yours. either way, the words make their way to your lips before you can stop them.  

"both of my parents pretty much ignored me as soon as i turned ten and started having nightmares about the monsters i was seeing around our house," you shake your head, swallowing, "and after yaga scouted me this year, they decided i'd probably be better off with 'people like me.' so, no, i'm not going home. i'm sure they've already moved." 

gojo stares at you like he's trying to discern if you're telling the truth or not. 

you probably shouldn't have said anything. but it's not your fault that no one's had the guts to ask before him, or that you've been dying to talk about it. 

you roll your eyes. "satisfied, gojo?" 

"satoru," he says, grinning. "anyone who's got a clear attitude problem gets to call me by my first name." 

"did your 'begrudged allies' forget to teach you manners?"

he hums. "i think i skipped those lessons." 

you snort. 

you could thank him for not pitying you--for not saying a single thing about how you didn't deserve it, or that it isn't fair--but you don't. it doesn't feel necessary. 

"suguru's family is like that," he adds because this is a normal thing to discuss with an acquaintance you've hung out with once. "but he's too righteous to cut them off." 

"yeah, i don't have that issue." 

he laughs, spinning around again. then he stands up and plops down on your bed, unwarranted, taking off his glasses so he can lie on his side. 

and then he sits there, staring at you. 

it only takes thirty seconds for you to break. 

"did someone surgically implant diamonds into your eyes?" you demand, kicking his foot away from yours. his body is warm against yours, and it makes you wonder if he's got a fever. 

he would come and bother you just to get you sick. 

"these are all-natural, sweetheart," he whispers, fluttering his lashes. he doesn't look away for a moment. his eyes are prettier up close, you suppose, when you can see them in their full glory. they look less alien, somehow less intense. 

"what are the glasses for anyway?" 

"try 'em on." 

he hands them to you, grinning like he knows something you don't, and you take them--maybe just so you can smudge the lens. 

they are surprisingly light, and warm. you put them over your eyes, blinking. 

"oh, are you clinically blind?" you ask, feeling slightly bad for bringing it up. he's probably going to pull your hair and lock you in your room now. 

satoru snorts. "no, i just don't need to see, unlike some people." 

"...was that supposed to be a brag?" 

you take off the glasses, wincing at the light. then you hand them back to him, tingling skin where your fingers brush his. 

"it would drain my cursed energy if i didn't wear them," he says, "'cause i see a lot more than you do." 

"okay? so it’s not to keep people from screaming when they see you?”

he pinches your thigh in retaliation, scoffing. “i am beautiful.”

he shakes his head, but leaves the glasses off, setting them on his stomach, and closing his eyes. one hand travels to the top of his head, as he relaxes into your bed. 

you'll probably need to wash the sheets after this. 

"hey," you say after he's been still for a minute. "satoru. you can't fall asleep here. i thought you wanted to be entertained."

"then entertain me." 

you roll your eyes, even though he's not looking. "i'm not your servant. go back to your room if you're just going to bed. i'm not cuddling with you." 

"i promise i'm good at it. ask suguru." 

"he's not here, so i can't." 

satoru sighs, opening his eyes again. "talk about something." 

"like what?" 

"uh... your favorite movie." 

"i don't watch a lot of movies." 

he sits up. "what?" he asks, genuinely shocked. 

you roll your eyes at him again. 

and, okay. despite his attitude, and his freaky eyes, you guess it is... nice, to be called upon. 

and as satoru sits there, talking to you about the most ridiculous of things, you feel settled in. unafraid of saying something wrong or pushing him away. 

it's good, you suppose, easy. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[walpu]

I'm coming at you with the speed of thousand asteroids affectionately and hit you with a "your writing is awesome!"

Also, may I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader.

Thank you very much and have a nice day :D

Thank you so much for your kind words and for the request, it was so fun to write <З

Hope you'll enjoy it, have a good day as well 💛

Aventurine x The Nameless!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. Once again, no beta. I'm so sorry.

Aventurine

Considering that the Astral Family and it's members are pretty well-known (everyone seems to know at least their names) he has probably heard something about you even before you first met him.

I can imagine your first meeting going like this: he casually approaches you, acting all buddy-buddy, and says something like "ah, mx , who knew I would meet you here of all places <З".

If your first meeting was during the Penacony quest get ready for him calling you "friend" in this sassy voice of his 💀 Yes Aven we all get it you don't have any actual friends calm down

Can imagine him trying to get closer to you by painting your potential partnership as something mutually beneficial. You could use a friend from the IPC, right? And he wouldn't mind having some connections with a "brave and honorable" Nameless. So why don't you join him for a glass of wine, hmmm?

When the two of you will eventually get closer this mf will get clingy af. Yeah I've mentioned it already in my previous post but you being one of the Nameless opens up so many new perspectives.

Visits you on the Express regularly. If he comes when you're not here, he'll wait for as long as he can for you to come back. Sadly, Aventurine is a busy, busy man. So he can't wait for long. Will leave small notes for you tho, to let you know that he was there but you didn't grace him with your presence

If you come back when he's waiting, Aven will play it off as if he himself just got there and didn't have to wait for you at all, saying somethin like "Oh look, here you're! And here I thought I would have to wait for you, haha. Seems like luck is on my side today~"

He doesn't want you to worry, after all. Also. He wants to save some face. Pom-Pom will rat him out anyway.

Speaking of Pom-Pom, they're probably sick of him at this point lol.

Would ask you about your adventures and listen very closely to every story you may want to tell. He can't help but smile softly while listening to you, he just loves seeing the passion in your eyes. Doesn't matter if the story is about you dragging the Trailblazer away from the trash cans in Belobog (or worse - admiring the trash cans with them), he will still look at you with the same adoring smile.

If you ask him what he's been up to during the time you where gone, Aven would simply laugh it off and say that his boring IPC stuff cannot compare with your bizarre adventures so it doesn't even worth mentioning. Reassure him that you don't care if it's boring, you just want to hear about his day regardless of how it went.

Sometimes he can't help but feel jealous. You're free to travel, to do whatever you want. You have this sparkle of excitement in your eyes every time you tell him about your travels. And he has nothing of it. Simply can't have.

He doesn't have any negative feelings towards you, of course. Mostly some bottled up bitterness toward his fate and himself.

He gets a bit lost in his own head every time he starts feeling this way. Please take his hand and invite him to join you during your next adventure. He will laugh softly and tell you "maybe next time, darling". Even if he doesn't know when this "next time" will come the thought of it, of you wanting to share your precious moment with him, fills him with hope.

Adores when you bring him small gifts from the places you've been. It doesn't have to be something big, really. Just the thought that you were thinking of him when the two of you were apart is enough.

Don't forget to send him pictures of yourself!!!! He wants to know how his dearest darling is doing even when they are freezing their ass off in Belobog.

Would sometimes surprise you by showing up on the planet/space ship you're currently staying on. Aventurine rarely can't stay for a long but he cherishes those short moments when he can just walk around and do nothing in particular with you.

Usually when he visits a planet it has something to do with the IPC's business so he only has time to do his job and. Well. Gamble. Maybe buy some new clothes too if he has enough time.

But with you he can actually explore the planet. You bring him to the local restaurants, small tea shops, seemingly small and insignificant places. But it’s places like these that reveal the real beauty of the planet. He slowly learns to appreciate it when you're by his side.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.

EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.

A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.

I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.

There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.

The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.

Character analysis

As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.

However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.

L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.

Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.

Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.

L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.

L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.

L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.

As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.

This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.

L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?

As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.

I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?

L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.

He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.

As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.

L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.

I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.

Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.

Romance

Neutral stage

One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.

L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?

At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.

L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)

It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.

Growing interest

L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.

He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.

Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.

As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.

L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.

It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.

And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.

L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.

I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.

That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.

L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.

And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.

"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:

a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.

b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.

Full reciprocity

L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.

When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.

Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.

Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.

L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.

I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.

Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.

L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.

What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.

This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.

As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:

“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”

I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.

As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.

Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.

[voonroo]

Hi!!! I’m currently on a Hazbin hotel hyper fixation and it’s not funny, but I saw your requests were open and I need to fill a void.

May I please have Vox with an overlord reader who can separate parts of their body. Like they can take off their skin and just jump around as a skeleton. Or maybe is Rosie is hungry they just take off some of their muscle and go “here it’ll grow back”. Weird I know but I thought it was cool!

Thanks and totally ok if not!!!

It's Just Regeneration. Oh.

⌐‣Vox x Overlord Reader REQ.

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: AKSKSKAKA I ADORE YOUR WRITING-

(I was 👻 anon on my alt-)

I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSS!!! YOURE ALSO MY FIRST REQUEST—🥳 You didn't specify what format you wanted soooo I just went with a basic drabble? Idek if this qualifies as a drabble I'm still trying to figure out the differences even after being on this app for over a year… ALSO MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR VOX SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

Vox probably first met you in an Overlord meeting.

At first, he paid no mind to the new presence, assuming you were just another new face that may fall before too long.

But he was just delighted to find out you would last long enough to make a memorable impression.

Even if that memorable impression was you literally tearing off a chunk of your own flesh to pass it over to Rosie sitting next to you after the woman had quietly stated that she was growing hungry.

“Oh, it will grow back.” God damn. No wonder you've managed to last.

Since then, he's been keeping an eye out on you. With you being able to regenerate and be unfazed by losing parts of your physical body- which, you only get one of btw- he deemed you a possible strong opponent. (or a great ally)

He started to keep tabs on you, as one does. This was how he found out just how you quickly rose through the ranks.

He would be wary of you, but he wouldn't outright avoid you like he tries does to do with Alastor.

One time he was doing some stalk-scrolling, and saw a video of you literally shedding your skin and your skeleton turning toward the camera before the video cut.

His expression after seeing that was a silent eyebrow raise in quiet shock. Your little regeneration thing you had going on- he didn't know it could go to that extent.

After seeing that- there's a 50/50 chance that he’ll either bring it up in hopes of maybe blackmailing you to get you on his side (most overlords do not enjoy the fact that someone knows how they kill) or just stare at you in silence during the next overlord meeting. Kinda hoping you'd just shed your skin.

But deep down he knows the latter won't happen.

He’ll just have to chat with you himself. Who knows, maybe you'll become a valuable asset.

Word Count: 330 (this feels too short)

Inbox is open!!

[ssahotchnerr]

How about it’s the first year reader celebrates thanksgiving with hotch as a couple and wants to cook the thanksgiving meal all by herself to impress him but it goes horribly wrong… in a cute way lol

new traditions

cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, aaron being the softest man ever <3 wc; 1.1k

you thought you had prepared for every possible scenario.

turkey, out of the freezer with plenty of time to thaw. you strategically planned out what was to go in to the oven when (you in fact, had made a spreadsheet). you had quadruple checked your planned recipes, making sure you had each and every needed spice and ingredient they possessed. if all went according to plan, your first thanksgiving as hostess would run nothing but smoothly.

the one thing you hadn't anticipated, however, your apartment's power going out.

your heart plummeted into your stomach when your apartment dimmed and succumbed to complete silence - the hum of the oven halting loudly. while it was instant, the sound seemed determinately slow, as if it were somehow mocking you. that yes, the universe was throwing a wretch in your plans and you had to deal with the consequences.

once your mixer slowed to a stop, you dropped it into the bowl with no condolences for the potatoes, quietly murmuring a 'no no no' under your breath. maybe you had popped a fuse, maybe all your lightbulbs had miraculously popped simultaneously, maybe your eyesight had suddenly decided to give up on you after all these years. but of course, you couldn't be that fortunate.

dinner was ruined.

you gave it an hour or two, in which the time the turkey should've been cooking, and you should've been aiding to all the other dishes you planned on serving. but instead you spent the time lighting candles around your apartment as the sun set, trying to come up with a solution, such as serving dinner, or some of dinner, late. but word soon spread; a tree branch had fallen on multiple power lines and since it was a holiday, it wasn't promised to be restored until tomorrow morning. perhaps the middle of the night if lucky.

defeatedly and regretfully, you grabbed your phone, selecting aaron's contact.

"hey," his deep, relaxed voice entered your ear, full of enthusiasm at that. "we're just about to head over-"

"about that," you cut him off, "i wouldn't venture too far."

a brief moment's hesitancy, "is everything okay?"

there was no use lying, as aaron could cue into every tone change and ultimately determine your mood or current state of mind, even over the phone. "no, my power went out."

"oh sweetheart," his tone deflated, and you could imagine the expression of sympathy struck on his face. "i'm sorry."

"no, i'm sorry." you peered up at the ceiling, trying to keep your inevitable tears at bay. "it's been out for a while, and pretty much stalled everything. i was hoping it would switch back on but it doesn't look that way. so i don't - won't have dinner ready, i'm really sorry."

"sweetheart..."

"i know you said your colleagues were throwing a get-together? i would just attend that. that way, you'll still have somewhat of a thanksgiving."

-

as you sulked, tossing a hardened glare to your kitchen every so often, a knock came from your door. you opened it to reveal two smiling hotchner faces, one just taller than the other.

"jack, what do you say?" aaron's hand found the back of jack's head, ruffling his hair in encouragement.

"happy thanksgiving!" jack rushed forward and hugged your legs, before scampering into your apartment.

"happy thanksgiving." aaron echoed with that smile of his, giving you a kiss upon his entrance inside.

you closed the door behind him, dazed from his arrival and the kiss. "what are you doing here?"

"you didn't think we'd let you spend tonight alone, did you?" he arched an eyebrow, his expression communicating a silent 'yeah right'. like a lost puppy, you silently followed him into your kitchen.

"we whipped up the quickest thing we had at home." aaron explained, unpacking the bag he had brought contents onto the counter. "to jack's delight, that happens to be mac and cheese. it's still warm, so we'll have to eat now. we also brought extra candles - i still can't believe it's this dark out this early."

you leaned into him as he spoke, your cheek pressing against the coarse fabric of his jacket.

"it's wonderful but," you sighed, speaking partially into his upper sleeve, "it's not the traditional thanksgiving dinner i promised."

"then we'll make our own traditions." aaron reassured, opening the tupperware of mac and cheese, steam escaping. "it's our first year, first time for everything."

"but the turkey-"

"-would've been amazing, i'm sure. but this was entirely out of your hands, darling, and we'll make do." he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voiced laced with such understanding. such sweetness.

"well." you warmed up a bit, straightening your posture with a little more hopefulness in your tone. "there's rolls, i suppose."

"see." aaron gave your hip a squeeze, the ends of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. "perfect."

and so, your thanksgiving feast was complete with macaroni and cheese (albeit it was spongebob shaped), dinner rolls, cranberry sauce - the few dishes that hadn't needed help from the stove. rather than your kitchen table, you brought your set-aside-for-fancy-occasions dinnerware to your coffee table, and you each found a seat on the floor, cushioned by a pillow. it was filled with laughter, thoughtful conversations, aaron reminding jack to not talk with his mouth full, and you and aaron exchanging long, loving gazes back and forth.

truth be told, illuminated by candlelight and in the company of the two you had grown to love so immensely the past few months, you had forgotten the current circumstances.

once pumpkin pie was devoured (again, a non-essential of the oven) aaron pulled up a charlie brown thanksgiving on his phone, and the three of you curled up underneath a blanket on the couch. aaron in the middle, you and jack adjacently buried into his side, as close as close could be. but ten minutes in, jack crossed his dad's lap and crawled his way onto yours.

you also had a newfound appreciation of charlie brown's given meal to his friends: toast, popcorn, pretzels, jelly beans. even aaron shot you an amused yet cautious glance at the plot line - too soon? but once he saw you had found it humorous, did he lightly chuckle aloud.

sure, it wasn't the perfect, ideal evening you had originally envisioned, but it was one definitely worth remembering. one you could look back on and laugh at, and the reason why now character pasta was a must-have on the table for future holidays to come.

in hindsight, it was better than you could have ever imagined.

[berryzxx]

i really like ur theo headcanons so is it possible if u could do a fic based off of the 11th one. If not could u do a fic where he's had a fight because of you. thanks

I'll try harder

11) Ends up in the infirmary a lot, Madam Pomfrey thinks he's a "troubled yet entertaining student"

Hope u like it x

"Where is my boyfriend?" I asked Draco, my annoyance increasing with his obvious distractions so he didn't have to answer my question.

He gave me a once over, his cool gaze unaffected by my anger "Your boyfriend is currently busy. I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow...or in a few days depending on the situation"

I was going to pull my hair out if I didn't get a direct answer soon "Draco Malfoy if you don't tell me right now I will drag Pansy here and tell her you like her"

His blank expression didn't change except the flicker of annoyance in his grey eyes "And where did you receive that false information from?"

I smiled at him "Just because it's false doesn't mean people aren't going to believe it. Did you know all it takes is one little whisper for a rumour to be spread across the whole of Hogwarts?"

Draco smirked, crossing his arms "Blackmailing me, y/l/n? Looks like Nott does benefit you in some way." "Tell me"

"He's in the hospital wing and before you run away to mother him, if I hear a single word about me liking that awful witch-"

"Your threats don't matter to me right now, Malfoy. But thanks anyway" I rushed off to where he had said Theo was, trying to rid my thoughts of everything that I imagined had happened to him. He was fine walking off the quidditch pitch and there were no serious injuries while he played so why was he there?

I knocked on the door, making sure it was loud enough for someone to hear. If the door didn't open I would barge in myself. Before I could do just that Madam Pomfrey opened the door giving me a sympathetic smile "Here to see Theodore?"

I nodded my head trying to see behind her to no avail. All I could see were a few drawn curtains and another few beds unoccupied.

"Go on in then, he's the third one." I rushed past her muttering a quick thank you. She was probably fed up of having me to see me at her door every other day.

I approached the third bed and pushed the curtains to the side. I didn't know what I expected but it wasn't Theo sat up reading a book with his head wrapped in white gauze. Otherwise he looked completely fine.

"Hey" I left a small kiss on his cheek and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to answer the questions I was too afraid to ask.

He let out a sigh and placed his book near his pillow, shifting further to the left so I had more space on the bed.

"Who told you I was here?"

I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance and confusion "That's not important. What's important is what are you doing here? Don't tell me you got into another fight"

He gave me a slight smile, his expression showing discomfort.

"Theo. Why? Why are you always fighting?"

"For the record I won the fight, sweetheart."

I scoffed "Well clearly not if you've got that on your head and your opponent isn't even in the hospital wing right now"

He grinned as if he found something funny "He's having a meeting with Snape that's why."

He wasn't getting the point. He just didn't seem to care that what he was doing was wrong and it affected others as well. "What happened? I want the truth"

His smile dropped, becoming suddenly serious to when I asked for the truth.

"Well, the guy who asked you out the other day and you rejected him. He was talking shit about you so I decided to fuck him up a bit. You know, so he'd know that he didn't have the right to talk about you like that...no one does"

I sighed. The fact that he was fighting because of something said about me was nice of him but I didn't want him hurt because of that.

"Theo he said something about me. Not you. I don't want you hurt every time someone says a single thing against me"

He sat up suddenly, anger evident on his face "And why the fuck not? If he's going to talk about my girlfriend like that do you think I'm just gonna stand there and not do shit all?"

"But Theo your hurt because of it! I don't want that for you"

He slumped back down and didn't bother looking at me "I don't fucking care about being hurt. If I hear a single word against you-"

"Just ignore it!" I was getting annoyed now. Why was he so desperate to be hurt because of something I didn't even care that much about?

"Ignore it? Your fucking crazy if you think I'll ignore something like that"

I stood up ready to do something. Ready to shout at him, to push him off the bed, to do anything but sit there and tell him time and time again that I didn't want him hurt because of something so irrelevant. Tears welled up in my eyes, I tried blinking them away but instead a few fell down making their way down my cheeks.

"Well your good at ignoring one thing! Our fucking date that your missing because of your detention. Is that what you wanted?" I wiped the remaining tears from my face, anger coursing through my veins. Theo finally deigned to look at me after having raised my voice, something I rarely did.

His eyes widened in shock "I didn't realise. Fuck. I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't even realise and- I didn't mean for you to cry. I'm so fucking sorry"

"It's a little late for that isn't it. What does it matter when you've missed the second date this month because of some stupid fighting you can't control"

He leant toward me, reaching for my hand the warmth of his hand seeping into me. "I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart. What do you want me to do? I swear I won't fight again...unless the person deserves it"

I sat back down, the anger vanishing from me, Theo's comforting hand grounding me.

"Lay down with me. Please." He asked quietly, eyes full of sorrow.

I turned so I could lay down next to him his arm coming around my waist to pull me closer to him. He dropped a kiss to the top of my head "I really am sorry Y/n. I don't want you to be upset over something I've done"

I shook my head "I'm not upset. I just don't want my boyfriend to be in the hospital wing for half the year"

"I'll try harder" He whispered.

"Just try harder on the fighting aspect. Otherwise your perfect"

I smiled at him and the one he gave back made my heart melt. I loved him.

(Not proof read)

[predestinatos]

'tis the season, i guess — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: cold winter days bring unexpected company to your bookshop. or in which your ex needs help choosing a book for his girlfriend.

words: 3.5k

tags: angst, SO much angst, dark academia vibes for some reason?, genuinely heartbreaking. some fluff but not much!

note: this was based off of this request but i got a bit carried away and wrote a whole thing! also am now obsessed with listening to sabrina carpenter... i hope everyone likes this even though it is very painful, but lmk your thoughts pls!!

The bookshop was basically empty, all the noise you could hear being yourself trying to rearrange the books in alphabetical order, and soft music playing in the background.

you stood on your tiptoes in order to reach a book at the top of the shelf, knowing a bench was available but being too lazy to go get it. Wuthering Heights refused to reach your fingertips despite your efforts and soft curses to yourself a bit louder than usual due to the emptiness of the shop.

"Need help?" a male voice called from behind, causing you to roll your eyes. Here we go, you thought to yourself, another man who catches you alone in the shop and tried to hit on you, and you'll have to find him funny and play delighted to be in his presence despite how bothersome he is, despite the ring on his finger.

"No, I'm okay, really-" you started replying, putting on your best customer service smile, fixing your hair as you turned around to face the stranger. but the person who you faced wasn't a stranger in the slightest.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" he said as he reached behind you for Wuthering Heights, taking him zero effort to do so, increasing your frustration and disbelief.

those brief moments of closeness brought to you a thousand heart clenching memories, time standing still as his scent hit you softly.

"Try this one" you tried to stop giggling as you held the dark brown bottle in your hands and asked for his wrist.

"Tobacco Vanille? I don't want to smell like cigarettes!!" he joked, although he let you spray his wrist gently, so happy just for the sole fact that you were happy.

Your smiles reached your eyes as they met for brief seconds, waiting for the smell to hit his skin. Reactions weren't needed as your expressions turned from smiling to shocked, mouths widening at the scent that seemed to fill you both.

"It's AMAZING!" you half screamed excitedly as he smelled his wrist in confirmation. "Charlie, it smells so good I could eat you right now!"

He laughed at the nickname, at how pretty you looked, at how simple it all was. He kept laughing with the perfume in a perfectly wrapped package in his hand, the other holding yours.

"Uhm, hi" you said, as his big familiar hands stretched out to hand you the book, which you hugged tightly to your chest in an attempt to hide or disappear in it, you weren't sure "Thanks."

"No problem" he replied politely, almost annoyingly so, the tiptoeing already starting before more than a few words could be uttered, his hands in his pockets as he looked everywhere but you.

It was uncomfortable - the silence, the stillness, how both of you stood there like ghosts, waiting for some direction, something to do, something to happen. "So uhm... what brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm a wedding crasher" the stranger next to you replied, black tuxedo slightly touching your arm, a drink in his hand and shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Really?" your eyebrows raised as you took in what he said and his appearance – the nose, especially the nose.

He laughed slightly, taking a sip of his drink and looking back at you "no, I'm friends with the bride," his finger pointed in the direction of the beautiful woman dressed in white, but all you could see was how big his hands were, adorned with rings. "And you?"

"I am an actual wedding crasher" you replied, cheeky smile adorning your lips despite the shyness you felt as your eyes locked with his. It was his time to raise his eyebrows and your turn to take a sip of beer as he repeated what you had asked seconds before. "Really?"

"No, I'm friends with the groom" you replied winking, enjoying the stranger's company and humor, his smile causing small dimples to appear in his cheeks as he looked down at his lap.

"You got me," his hand suddenly stretched towards you, palm open and inviting, "I'm Charles."

He kept shrugging and avoiding your eyes, despite the fact that he had willingly chosen to go to the place where you worked. It was making you impatient and angry, those emotions replacing the initial shock and sadness.

"I need your help choosing a book," his voice sounded weak and embarassed, shame coming through every vowel. You stood still, waiting for him to continue, wishing he'd speak faster, explain himself already or just leave and forget he even came. "For my girlfriend"

Those words twisted inside you like a sharpened knife that knew the cut would merely hurt, not kill. Despite that, you knew better, you refused to let him notice any sort of hint of how that information affected you. "Oh wow," was all you could say at first, turning around to keep placing books in shelves, distracting at least your body since your mind was restless "birthday?"

"Uh? Oh no, 6-month anniversary" he muttered, almost inaudibly. You were too aware suddenly of how your clothes felt on you, how ironic red was in the necklace you were wearing as you placed Anne Boleyn's biography in its correct place, tight between the other books. You refused to look to him now, nodding intensively so he would understand that you had heard what he said, your skin prickling as you struggled to move. Calculations ran through your mind, trying to place those 6 months in the timeline of both of your lives as he moved awkwardly behind you.

"It's funny actually, she really loves reading, I guess I do have a typ-" he began, trying to lighten the mood, but each word he said felt like another grain of salt being thrown at the open wound that was your heart.

“What does she like to read?” you interrupted him, purposefully so, knowing how clear your intention to move from the subject was.

“I read a bit of everything, but I love the classics,” you said as the cappuccinos arrived and sat prettily in the café’s table. You stared at Charles as he stared at you; his entire expression seemed to give you undivided attention, registering every word and movement of yours. He smiled at all the correct times, nodded at your statements and frowned at certain parts of your narrative almost as if he had been custom made for you.

“What’s your favorite book?” he continued, sipping his drink, some foam remaining on his top lip, a feature you smiled softly at, bravely leaning over with a napkin and cleaning it. “Thank you” he said as he noticed your blushing expression, his way of both reassuring you and brushing it off as something mundane, and you bit your lip, holding back a bigger smile than necessary.

“This is such a cliché,” you started, rolling your eyes at your answer, trying your best not to say it. “Go on” his hand suddenly stretched towards yours, resting on top of it gently, like a sheet perfectly fitted for a bed. Your body burned with the touch, what is symbolized, what it promised silently in that small café.

“It’s Catcher in the Rye,” you both burst out laughing.

“She loves Fitzgerald,” his hands touched random books, looking for something to do, fixing them, opening some of them and putting them back in place, reading the backs of them as if he was paying attention to anything they said.

“Good taste,” you tried the compliment route. You didn’t want to sound bitter, and you weren’t bitter. It was just a lot to take in so fast, his presence as painful as his words, the way both made you feel so small for such a big place, so big for such a tight room.

“That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool,” you quoted the author as you contemplated the choices available for a lover of Fitzgerald. Work could fill your mind. Pretending it was just one more client made it easier. “Any other author or book? Help me out, Charli- Charles” you cut yourself off before the nickname could come out, hoping he wouldn’t notice, knowing that he did. You felt his entire body tense behind you as yours did, making it seem like a picture frozen in time in place, The Star-Crossed Lovers.

Charles seemed so silent that you unconsciously felt yourself turning back to check if he was still there, if he hadn’t been a fragment of your imagination after all. He stood in place, for a moment his eyes looked at you as if they hadn’t seen you in his entire life, examined you as if you were as unknown as letters in a freshly printed page. That soon faded as he snapped back to reality, registering the question with incredible delay. “Faulkner. She also likes Faulkner.”

“Aaaand Faulkner is done” you brushed some of the dust off of your hands as you stood up, looking at the now organized Classics section. “At least for the next week! Thank you for staying with me, by the way,” you said to the phone, as its screen indicated that you had been on a call for 2:45:17 hours.

“No problem,” Charles smiled. You knew he did although you didn’t see him, and that sheer though made you smile as well. “Can you do me a favour though?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement, a puppy-like tone that you cherished “open the door, I’m freezing.”

At first you were confused at his request, and you were close to questioning it until it hit you. You didn’t believe it. There could be no way he was- you rushed to the bookshop’s door, opening it while still holding your phone. Heart racing, you opened the door and saw Charles’ frame standing there, the lights illuminating his red cheeks and nose from the cold, one hand awkwardly holding the cellphone, the other trying to balance two warm drinks. He was wearing a beanie that made him look younger, softer, a puffer jacket that seemed to hug him perfectly- “Is there a code or something?” he jokingly asked, his breath visible due to the cold air outside, and you realized you had been staring for too long. You stood aside, turning the phone off as he placed the cups on the counter and removed his extra clothes.

“You didn’t have to,” you started. “I wanted to.” “You’re so sweet I could kiss you right now.” “Do it, then.”

 You started browsing through the spines of the books in the shelves in front of you, looking for answers to more than one question, relying on pulling you sleeves down to your hands to mask your nervousness.

“How have you been, though?” his voice made you jump a bit, pulling you back to reality as you pulled 2 books and held them against your chest with one hand, trying to keep them from falling by lifting a leg – an awkward stance, you were sure. “Great, actually” you replied, unconvincingly so.

Things were hard after what happened with Charles, and you had taken many different routes to get over it all at first – waking up hungover in strangers’ beds, not leaving the house, breaking hearts for fun, letting people use you for fun, meaningless moment after meaningless moment, where the highlight would be hearing a voice that sounded even slightly similar to his. They got slightly better, of course, a year had passed, you could function, yet it hadn’t scarred yet – it wasn’t even close. The wound was open and bleeding and hideous and his presence, his voice, his smell, his request, it all just made the blood spill harder.

“Really?” “Hmhm,” a nod. A cough from behind you, making you turn around. His face was stern, serious. Charles was considering if coming was a good idea, what even drove him to do it in the first place. There were so many bookshops, so many other gifts he could give, yet he felt like showing up, like seeing you, at least once. Now he was there and he felt peculiar. Something close to guilt crawled on his chest, but he wasn’t sure what he was feeling guilty of, which in turn intensified his guilt.

You reached for a third book, and as you did so, the ones you were holding fell once again on the old wooden floorboards. “Shit” you muttered, crouching to grab them as Charles did the same, you two being so familiarly close, the irony of the cliché overwhelming the both of you. Getting up, Charles felt the need to offer his hand for you to hold, a support you refused to take and acknowledge, pretending you didn’t see it when it reality it seemed to be screaming at you loudly and intensely.

“So here are my recommendations, I guess” you sighed, letting him assume it was due to tiredness, knowing that he wouldn’t. Placing the 3 books on the nearest table, they faced the both of you as you stood next to each other, his arm brushing against yours, eyebrows furrowed as he examined their covers and details carefully.

Mrs. Dalloway, Age of Innocence, and One Hundred Years of Solitude sat perfectly, yet stared at the both of you defiantly, knowing their words could cut through both of your souls if they pleased.

“Don’t let yourself die without knowing the wonder of fucking with love” Charles read aloud, laying in your bed next to you, your head resting gently on his chest as you felt him laugh softly, lying naked in . “You’re right, I think I like this author.”

You laughed alongside him, both unaware of the fact that you were laughing for different reasons.

Charles’ eyes glanced quickly towards you, the same memory haunting your minds as if you were locked in a cinema of nostalgia. Shyly, his hand reached towards the hardback edition of Age of Innocence, its soft colors drawing him attention when the other options were either too painful to grab or not as tempting for his eyes.

You leaned against the polished table, looking at the way he touched the pages tenderly, fingers brushing them with a softness that reminded you of times that had gone by yet seemed to close and so recent.

His features seemed so focused, eyes moving slowly across each sentence, eyelashes prettily adorning them, his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed dryly. He almost seemed unreal, a mirage of a stranger who was once so familiar to you, breaking the spell when he chuckled softly. “What?” you asked, whispering, too afraid that a sudden movement might make him disappear entirely. The normalcy of the moment was as terrifying as it was comforting, a moment in which it seemed like you two were the same again. “Nothing it’s just, one of the sentences I stumbled upon…”

“Which one?” you rested your chin in your hand while looking up at him, forgetting the previous moments, the previous year, every previous instance in its entirety as he looked back down at you and bit his lip nervously.

“I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that -categories like that- won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter.” the room went cold and silent as the night.

“I can’t give you a relationship” he stood in his own kitchen like a foreigner, a man you almost did not recognize. “Why not?” “Because I don’t do relationships and I don’t like labels and I don’t want to hurt you by convincing you that I can.”

Your ears rung as you fought back tears. You wouldn’t cry. You were too proud for that, to show him this mattered way more to you than to him. “If you don’t want to hurt me then try, Charles.”

He shrugged, arms opened in defeat and eyes looking at the window, the snow falling down outside, locking you both in this confrontation. “I can’t.” Frustration invaded your bones and skin as you asked why once again, though your voice was tired and broken.

“It’s not because of you, I just- Can’t I just love you?” “That’s what I’m asking you to do by staying,” you reply cut like ice, and as he moved closer to you and held your face in his hands, you knew you had lost. “I can’t. Because I can’t do relationships.”

“But you will” you pushed him away as you left, knowing you were leaving your toothbrush, spare underwear, and heart there.

He interrupted the stillness before you did, clearing his throat and his mind, failing to relieve you of the pain of the past. “I’ll take this one” he said, now too polite, too frigid to go back.

You held the book and moved towards the counter, aware of his footsteps behind you, following you. You knew he was doing it because he had to pay, because he was a customer, because that’s what you’re supposed to do – yet part of you wanted it to be for a different reason, wanted his hand to suddenly reach for your wrist and tell you it was all a lie, a big prank, he was sorry and he took it all back.

You wanted him to say something daring enough for you to explode at him, to scream everything you’ve been holding inside for a year, to go back to that kitchen and its dimmed lights. To dare yourself to ask how dare he come into your workplace and throw everything at you, all politeness and fragrance and small talk, like it was nothing when you felt everything.

Instead, you wrapped the present nicely, placing a bright ribbon at the top while he fidgeted with his wallet from the other side of the counter. It was almost done, this exchange, and you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You were tired. So tired.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, facing him fully, staring at his green eyes that tried their best to hold your gaze. “Seriously, Charles, why did you come here?”

At first, he stayed silent. You refused to break the silence this time, even if he left without an answer you knew you had asked it, you did not save it for late nights lying awake. “I know you think I didn’t love you, but I do” he said.

It didn’t seem like a reply to your question, it seemed like a statement he was waiting to get out since the moment he walked in, the phrasing odd with its verbs being intentionally used in different tenses that didn’t seem to matter, at least not anymore. All you could do was laugh in disbelief, anger, or hurt, or a mix of both spreading throughout your body.

“You were- are- very important to me. You helped me realize a lot of things and if I could, I would go back in time in a heartbeat. But I can’t” he grabbed the present, hinting at the fact that he was going to leave, yet it didn’t seem fair to you. This wasn’t an apology, and was nowhere close to it, your hands trembling were a proof of such.

“You never can” you raised your chin, pride fighting against hurt as tears threatened to roll down your cheeks, jaw tense and firm, “not when it comes to me.” And there it was. What you both knew was true, said aloud like a forbidden fruit that was now bit into.

“It’s more complicated than that. And it’s alright for you to hate me, but I genuinely do love you. I care about you and think about you more than I should-“

“Do you love her?” it was a stupid question, and you knew that. You knew whatever answer he gave you would be a slap in the face, unsatisfying and painful either way. You hated yourself for the slight jealousy you felt towards a woman you barely knew, who wasn’t at fault at all, whose only problem was being too lovable.

“I do. I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you” “Oh wow. Thanks for that one” you crossed your arms across your chest, making yourself smaller, trying to hide while looking at the clock – 15 minutes left until the shop closes. 15 minutes left of the last time you’ll ever see him.

“Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?” he wanted to reach for you and hold you, a moment of involuntary movement almost drove him to do something he couldn’t possibly do, not anymore, at least. You looked at his sudden jerk of movement, how he stopped as if his muscles burned and prevented him from acting upon his instincts. It was the best answer he could’ve given you.

“I’m selfish. I want to look at a bookshelf and know a piece of you is there. I know I’ll never fucking see you again, and I’ll leave you alone, but God I need something to remind myself that you’re real” he said, eyes closing in shame or frustration, you couldn’t say.

“You took a part of me with you that night. And I’ll never get it back. And you walked in today and took a bit more. More than that book. And every time I think of you, you take another piece. So when you look at that book, think of your girlfriend. I am real. But what we had wasn’t. Not anymore.”

You started closing the register, ignoring his presence, hoping he’d go away. The only reason you noticed him leaving was the small bell that rang as he opened and closed the door, and you finally succumbed and let the tears run free.

[b1rds3ye]

I have to HC Simon is hella expressive under his mask because he really never has to worry about schooling his expressions; the mask does it for him. So picture it - he sees his work crush in the grocery store and immediately hides. Face, neck, ears bright red. (I also HC that he's got the mask off if he's off duty for extended periods of time.) All of a sudden, you're right behind him super excited to learn you live near each other and he just CANT get a grip. Can you picture it? Cause I can picture it, and I'm as soft a fucking pillow about it lol

AYO I CAN TOTALLY SEE THAT. Even with the mask, we’ve seen Simon be super expressive, he throws a nasty side-eye, has a death stare that would make anyone cry but have you seen the zoom up on his eyes?? They’re actually the sweetest puppy eyes sometimes oh my gOD-

Personally, I feel off-duty Simon still wears a mask for anonymity and also not to worry about pulling a funny face in public (man's being covid safe what a legend) but then there will be one day he forgets. And that will be the one day he runs into you and he knows fate is playing some stupid trick on him. He's so conflicted, he wants to hang around the vicinity (he usually just lets himself be found by you so he can get the small ego boost of you approaching him), but conversely there's nothing flattering about his face looking like a cooked lobster with how red it is. The rush of embarrassment overrides his want to see you and he's ducking behind aisles, hoping you'll get distracted by the rack of lollies that's fifty percent off. But of course you don't, you're far too stubborn, and you track him down throughout the grocery store.

"You alright Simon?" He hears your voice directly behind him in no time. Do you bloody teleport now? Seeing your face contorted in such concern has him reeling, wanting to snap out in denial that no, his face is not that red because he's found you.

"Sunburn," Simon grumbled and he's mentally slapping himself because Manchester hasn't seen a ray of sun for the last damn month. And you must've known that too because you're cocking an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh and for once in his life Simon feels like an absolute muppet.

"Yeah, alright. It's nice to see you too," you snicker. You eye the items in his shopping cart, undoubtedly questioning the lack of diversity in his diet and Simon is genuinely hoping at this point that the earth will swallow him up whole.

"Hey," you clear your throat, eyes trained on his trolley cart, but no longer for scrutinising. If he hadn't trained for literal years to keep his composure, he'd likely be cupping your cheeks and cooing over your bashful expression as you struggled to get your next words out. But no, instead his composure is fully invested into desperately pummeling down the blood in his cheeks.

"I live pretty near here. If you want, you're more than welcome to come for dinner or a cup of tea? You like that, right?"

Good grief, his blush wasn't going to go down anytime soon.