#i spit to the drinks of those who are rude

[skzdarlings]

the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader

requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU

pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

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Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  

“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  

Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 

You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   

You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   

“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 

He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 

“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”

He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.     

“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.

You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”

He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 

“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 

“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”

“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 

“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 

You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 

“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”

When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   

“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you… sort of… squirt?”

You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 

He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 

“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 

“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.

He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”

“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that…”

“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 

“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 

“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you… with… someone?”

“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just… thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 

You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 

You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.

“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 

“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 

You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 

Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 

“I know he… he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”

“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  ���Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”

You smile at him. 

He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 

“Soooo… have you?” 

The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 

Oh.

The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 

You cross your legs.  He notices. 

“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 

“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 

“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 

He jumps in surprise. 

“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant… abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”

His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 

“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 

“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 

His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 

“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just… surprised.”

“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 

When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 

“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 

“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”

“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 

You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 

Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 

“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”

“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”

“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”

“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”

“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”

He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 

When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.

He takes a slow, deep breath. 

“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 

“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 

He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 

“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um…”

It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 

He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 

You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”

You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 

“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 

You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 

He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.

You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.

You know you are safe in his hands. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  

He has not even undone a single button. 

“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 

His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”

Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 

You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 

“Jeongin,” you gasp. 

“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 

It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 

You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 

“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 

“Mmm,” is your only reply. 

You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 

“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 

You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 

“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 

“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 

You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 

You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 

Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 

You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 

“I want something more,” you say. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 

He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 

His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 

“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 

He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 

“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 

“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 

“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”

“Just to be sure,” you say. 

“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 

You are already smiling when he kisses you. 

You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 17

part 1 | part 16 | ao3

Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”

“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.

“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”

Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”

“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."

"They do not!"

"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”

"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”

“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.

“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”

“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”

“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”

“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”

“Of course you’d be excited about that.”

“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”

“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.

The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.

His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"

"Huh?" Steve twists around.

"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."

Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.

His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"

"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...

"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"

His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.

"Steve, I—"

The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.

—

part 18

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[uhohwhathaveidone]

hiii im the one who requested a drabble about amortentia

yeah i meant that someone dosed reader with amortentia and that's why sebastian is pissed (fair enough)

and i don't mind it being 2nd part of Amortentia!! i just really hope the reader will be hufflepuff^^

thank you so much!!

Poor little Hufflepuff

Tainted Crush (S.S)

pt1 Brewed Crush

I sabered too close to the sun today on beat saber and played for 3 hours straight on hard difficulty and my limbs have gone to jelly, and then after all that I walked to my mom to tell her about how I found the new notes and suddenly there was glass in my shoe and i stabbed my foot, how I didn't do that while giving my all at the game is beyond me, I put my whole body and soul into those games. Anyway, Sebastian is very.... Sebastian in this. Very protective bf.

     You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked down the hall to the Hufflepuff common room, eager to put your bag down and meet with Sebastian and Ominis for supper. You greeted a few students as you walked in, petting the soft feathers of an owl that perched itself on the rail of the steps as you walked up them. Poppy greeted you at the top, smiling a devious smile. “Hey there, y/n! I have something to deliver to you.” You looked at her, confused, as she pulled out a small box. “I was asked to hand this to you.” You took it from her hands, peaking inside. “Candy? Who gave you this?” You asked, picking one out of the box and inspecting it. Poppy shrugged, “Leander told me to give it to you, saying it was a gift for beating him in some game you played.” Your face relaxed a bit, nodding as you thanked her. Poppy smiled and excused herself, walking down the stairs and to one of her friends.

     You walked to your room, placing your bag onto the floor beside your bed as you sat down, looking at the candy. You weren’t quite friends with the Gryffindor boy, but you did interact with him a bit, and you knew that it would be rude to not at least eat one of the candies. You sifted through the assortment, grabbing at random and popping it into your mouth. Its sweet taste flooded your tastebuds as you chewed, the aftertaste felt odd, however. You had tried to figure out what the aftertaste was when your mind seemed to haze, your body beginning to feel fuzzy. Leander’s face popped into your mind, and you felt yourself thinking about him, much as you tried to fight it. Eventually, he was all your mind thought about, and you smiled to yourself as you looked down at the box, the candies tempting you for another bite.

     Sebastian sat beside you and Ominis, talking about the new spell you had learned in charms, asking Ominis how he felt about it. Ominis shrugged, claiming it was rather easy to learn, while you kept silent, leaning into the palm of your hand as you looked across the hall. “Hey, are you even listening to me?” Sebastian asked, bumping into your shoulder. After the Potions session a week or two before hand, the two of you confessing to each other and then trying to interrogate Ominis, you and Sebastian had gotten together, much to Ominis’ delight. “Finally, I don’t have to hear you whine about your feelings,” He had said. Sebastian waited for you to answer, bumping your shoulder again. “Hmm, yeah I’m listening.” You hummed, not shifting your gaze. Sebastian narrowed his gaze at you, noticing how you had your gaze fixed. He followed it, landing at the Gryffindor table, a mix of blue and red dotting the table. “What’s on your mind, then?”

     “Leander.” You swooned; a childish giggle left you as you smiled. Ominis choked and spit his drink out, coughing and gasping for air. Sabastian’s face heated up in jealousy, causing him to frown. “Leander Prewett?” You nodded, watching as the boy in question talked to his friends. “Why are you thinking about that guy?” Sebastian scoffed. Leander wasn’t the biggest fan of Sebastian, and Sebastian had to admit that he wasn’t a fan of Leander either, growing annoyed by him. He always found something to blame on Slytherins, and seemed to hold a grudge against Sebastian after he bested him in a duel on the first day of fifth year. Sebastian hadn’t even seen you talk to Leander before. You sighed, pulling Sebastian from his thoughts. “He gave me candy. They were really good too.” You said, pulling one from your pocket. Ominis’ head snapped up, looking in your direction. “Candy?” He asked, and Sebastian quickly snatched the candy from your hand.

     “Don’t eat that!” He shouted, reaching into the pocket you had taken the candy from, finding two more pieces. Ominis furrowed his brow, “How many did he give you?” You shrugged, counting your fingers. “Hmm…maybe…Ten? I think that’s it.” Sebastian felt panic rise in his chest, eyes widening. “Ten? You have three left!” Ominis found your shoulder, looking for your face. “Smells sweet, too sweet for candy.” He noted, looking over to Sebastian, who sat there, shocked and upset. “You’re sure Leander gave you these?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He grabbed your shoulders, turning you to him. His eyes widened as he took in your features, your eyes glazed over and pupils dilated. Your usual skin tone was replaced by a deep pink, and your face was extremely relaxed. Sebastian cursed under his breath, grabbing your face, and checking for anything else that was out of the ordinary.

     Ominis listened to Sebastian as he muttered to himself, seemingly cursing Leander. “He dosed them, some kind of love potion was in those candies.” Ominis widened his eyes in shock, trying to wrap his head around the possibility that someone even had the guts to dose another student, especially you. “What do we do, Sebastian?” Sebastian sighed, turning you towards Ominis. “Keep them here, I’m going to have a little chat with our dear Prewett.” With that, Sebastian stood, making his way over to Leander’s table. Natty looked up, greeting Sebastian. Leander paled at his name, keeping his head down and focusing on his food. “Hello there, Natty. Mind if I borrow your friend Leander for a moment?” Natty shrugged, elbowing Leander, who looked up in dread. He hadn’t told his friends what he had done, so they watched in confusion as he slowly stood from his seat, hands shaking as he walked over to Sebastian. “Hello there, Prewett.” Sebastian began, “Would you care for a conversation in the hall outside?” Leander nodded slowly, head hung low as he followed Sebastian out.

     As the giant doors closed behind them, Sebastian grabbed Leander by the collar, throwing him into the stone wall. Leander let out a gasp as the air left his lungs, a bruise already beginning to form on his spine. Sebastian walked up to him, grabbing his collar once again and holding him up against the wall, glaring daggers into Leander. “So, Prewett. Know why I asked you here today?” Sebastian asked. Leander shook his head, hoping that he could try to reason with Sebastian; come up with a lie to cover up what he had done. Sebastian scoffed, dropping him to the ground again. “Let me jog your memory then, yeah?” He held up one of the candies he had taken from you, watching as Leander’s eyes widened as he watched. “How many were in that box, Prewett? Ten?” Leander nodded, avoiding Sebastian’s eyes now. Sebastian paced in front of him, “Well, I have three in my possession. I assume you know how to count. How many do you think they ate, hm?” Quietly, Leander responded. “Seven, they ate seven.” Clasping his hands together, Sebastian smiled. “Correct! Seven points to Gryffindor!” He mocked, walking up to Leander. “What do you think would have happened if they ate eight? Maybe nine, or all of them? Do you think they’d be sitting at the table right now, probably mumbling about you to Ominis?” His voice and gaze grew dark as he hovered over Leander, “You could have killed them, then I probably would have killed you.” Leander shuddered, pushing himself against the wall. Sebastian looked down at the candy, lifting his gaze to the Gryffindor before him. “What would happen if you ate one? Would it have an effect?” He questioned. Leander shrugged, unsure himself. Sebastian debated the idea, playing with the candy in his hand. “Maybe next time.” He said quietly.

     “I’m going to let you go now,” Sebastian started, watching as Leander sighed in relief. He took out his wand, pointing it between his eyes. “But, if I catch you trying something like that again to my partner, even look in their direction,” Sebastian stared, “I will deal with you.” With that, Sebastian put his wand away, stuffing the candy in his robe and walking to the door, taking a final look at the cowardly Gryffindor, before opening it and walking in. He made his way back over to where you sat, standing in front of you. “I’m back,” He stated, letting Ominis know he was there. Ominis sighed in relief, glad to have someone that wouldn’t talk about some guy nonstop. “They’ve been talking this whole time, I’m becoming annoyed, to be honest.” Sebastian chuckled, reaching to take your hand. “I had a nice chat with Prewett. Now we need to get you to Professor Sharp.” You stood, gazing around as Sebastian led you toward Sharp, gesturing for him.

     “What is it, Mr. Sallow?” Sharp asked, standing before the two of you. Through gritted teeth, Sebastian explained to him the events that led to where you were now, glaring in Leander’s direction at the mention of his name. Alarmed, Sharp quickly led the two of you out of the hall to the potions classroom, Sebastian’s hold on your hand tightening as you whined, watching Leander’s figure shrink the farther you walked. Sharp ushered you into the classroom, heading to his desk to gather ingredients for an antidote. “How many did you say they ate?” He asked, measuring out portions of mandrake leaves. “Seven, I have the other three here.” Sebastian handed the candies to Sharp, who quickly examined them. “Seven is quite a lot, but this looks like Amortentia, which calls for an even stronger antidote.” Sebastian’s breath got caught in his chest, his anger melting and turning into stress. Sharp muttered to himself, mainly about how Leander had gotten his hands on the potion, and how he would reprimand Leander as soon as the ordeal was over. Sebastian watched as Sharp mixed the ingredients in the cauldron, glancing over at you every now and then to make sure you were still there, even with your hand locked in with his own.

     “Here, take this,” Sharp said, handing you a small cup of blue liquid. You slowly looked down at it, furrowing your brows. “Is this from Leander?” You asked, hesitant to take the cup from Sharp. Sebastian nodded, taking the cup and placing it in your hands. You smiled and quickly downed the contents, face contorting as the bitter taste took over. Sharp took the cup back, observing your face as the potion took effect. You shut your eyes tightly as you shook your head, coughing. Your mind seemed to clear up slowly as you squinted, looking around. You gagged, the full effect of the potion finally hitting you. “Why am I in a classroom?” You questioned, looking over at Sebastian and Sharp. Sebastian sighed in relief and thanked Sharp, who nodded his head. “Of course. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it appears that Mr. Prewett needs to have a chat with the Headmaster and I.” With that, Sharp excused himself, walking out of the classroom and heading back to the dining hall.

     You looked up at Sebastian, confused. “Last I remember, Poppy handed me a box from Leander, and I ate one of the candies to be nice.” Sebastian squeezed your hand, motioning for you to sit down. “He dosed those candies with love potion.” You felt your heart stop, disgust and shock mixing together on your face. “You mean to say,” You started, face heating up, “That I fell in love with some guy? Leander?” You shuddered, pretending to gag. Sebastian smiled as you dramatically pretended to be sick. You turned and buried your face into his shoulder, muttering. “That’s disgusting. Imagine, ditching you for Leander. A nightmare.” Sebastian chuckled, wrapping his arms around you as he held you, placing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’ll have to apologize to Ominis.” You looked up, frowning. “What did I do?” “You apparently talked his ear off when I left to have a chat with Prewett myself, I don’t think he’s too fond of the name at the moment.” “Oh no.”

     Leander did not get expelled, but he was delt a heavy detention, along with losing Gryffindor fifty points. You stayed by Sebastian each time you had to walk past him, who only glared at him, reminding him of his previous threat. Terrified, Leander never talked to you after that, or even looked at you for that matter. You didn’t ask what Sebastian had told him, nor did Ominis, who was just glad that you were talking normally again, forbidding Leander’s name from ever leaving your mouth when you were around him.

[chelseypprimrose]

I Dare You / Negan X Reader / pre apocalypse

Summary: A game of drunken truth or dare turns into the best sex of your life.

Warnings ⚠️: daddy kink, unprotected sex/rough sex, choking, oral, spitting, slight voyerism, slight dumbification and use of degrading terms (slut ect) bfd!negan, age gap

As always, all respective parties are over age of consent ect. 🤍 *Not proof read yet*

A/N: whelp here we are again, i started rewatching the walking dead from season 7 and tell me why I had totally forgot that Negan cleans out Alexandria’s houses just to burn their mattresses right down the road from them, the more I watch the more I remember how evil he really was and it makes me giggle and kick my feet i can’t lie lol. Enjoy this little depraved story, I’m just loving writing stories where the reader is very fully aware of someone watching/walking in bc it’s just so dirty I can’t freaking cope 😂love ya’s and my requests are open as always 🤍🎀🧟‍♂️

Straightening out your dress, you walked through the wooden gate at the side of your friends house, the loud thumping beats of music and chatter blaring through your eardrums. You held a bottle of Smirnoff in your other hand, remembering the teaching from your mother about never showing up to a party empty handed, that was considered rude and insulting.

You’d left the party girl lifestyle behind, having your fun in your early twenties but mellowing out in the last year or so, finding more enjoyment in a cup of tea and a good book. Not to the extent of being anti-social, just cutting off bad habits and rethinking where you wanted to take your life. Coming fresh out college filled you with a sense of doubt and confusion, you studied heavy, dedicating your time to educating yourself but hadn’t yet found what you wanted to be in the world. No matter how much you were freaking out about your next step, you couldn’t miss your friend’s birthday party, so you’d decided to have some fun and let loose, deal with reality tomorrow instead.

Pushing those dreaded thoughts underneath the surface, plastering a smile on your face as you entered the already crowded back garden of your best friend, Natalie. You’d known Natalie for years now, exact number you couldn’t remember but through high school and many ups and downs, you’d always stayed close, spending nearly every weekend at her house. That was with her mother though, she’d recently moved in with her dad, due to domestic arguments with her mother getting too toxic. You’d only ever seen her dad twice in your life, normally when he’d pick her up after the various extra curricular activities you two enrolled in together. Negan.

Such a unique name, you’d thought when you first laid your eyes on him. How anyone could give him up would be a mystery to you, from your limited interactions he’d always been sweet to you. Offering to drop you home as well but always denying, not wanting him to drive out of his route just for you. Those polished, pearly teeth gleaming at you when he asked, practically making you melt right there on the spot. You’d cursed yourself for manifesting a little crush on the man, who was your best friends dad, the forbidden attraction. The way he’d sit lazily in the driver side, his large hands gripping the steering wheel, your mind wandering to thoughts of what they would be like gripped around your dainty neck. The black bikers jacket he’d always wear even in scorching temperatures, fitting his frame just right.

“Hey hey girl, how are you?” She wrapped you into a affectionate hug, her candy sweet scent hitting your nostrils, her birthday tiara shining in the sun’s beam. You reciprocated, giving a small squeeze as you released her, holding the bottle out to her. “Happy birthday, Nat. It’s been too long!” You replied as she took the bottle out of your hands, thanking you for the gift. “Come on let me get you a drink and we can catch up!” She lead you through the crowd of people, a mixed bag, some young and some old. You recognised some familiar faces from growing up, giving a small nod at those who recognised you, commenting small hellos.

Natalie motioned for you to take a seat at the rattan sofa lounger, near the side of the backyard porch, a small fire pit in the middle, keeping you toasty as your dress was a little shorter than you were used to. Negan entered through the same gate you’d come through minutes ago, returning with a crate of beer from the garage. He fought his way through the crowd, handing out the liquor to those he’d promised it too. Small ‘thank you’s in acceptance, placing the remaining bottles into a cooler with ice. Wiping his hands off with a small towel, fingers slightly numb from handling the ice, his eyes moved around the yard, silently cursing his daughter for inviting so many people to this place. His annoyance came to a halt when his eyes locked onto you, recognising your face in the sea of people. Watching you laugh with Natalie over old pictures she was showcasing to you, he’d know your laugh from a mile away.

He couldn’t help the heat that ran through his body, his jeans getting tighter as he watched your chest rising, your arms placed in front of you, making your breasts press together firmly, slight cleavage coming into show for him to memorise. You’d definitely grown up since the last time he’d seen you, taking a beer out for himself, he started sauntering over to you, discreetly adjusting himself on the way.

“Well if that isn’t who I think it is? It’s been ages doll!” He exclaimed, your head whipping around to meet his gaze. He looked similar to how he did when you’d last seen him, the only major difference being his beard being thicker and slight whiteness now peaking out of it. “Hey! Mr Smith, it’s nice to see you after all this time!” You almost purred, he loved the way that name sounded rolling off your pretty lips, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks slightly. While it sounded completely innocent to everyone around, he could tell the difference. “Oh why so formal? Call me Negan, we’re all friends here.” He grinned, those familiar pearly whites coming into view as he swiped his tongue along his lower lip lightly. “Are you ladies okay for drinks?” Natalie waved her dad off, claiming they were fine, he took his leave but not before taking one last gaze over your body, your curves almost putting him under some witchcraft spell.

It was later in the evening, the sun setting over the horizon, you’d been roped into playing a game of ‘Truth or Dare’ under the suggestion of Natalie, it being the game you played at all those sleepovers you’d had with her back in the day. You were sat with a few other girls, ones you’d recognised from high school. You weren’t best friends with any of them, not knowing them well like you did Natalie, just more so the fact they were the only girls left at the party.

You’d played it safe up to this point, only choosing truth, you decided to throw caution to the wind when your next turn came, proclaiming dare to the group.

Natalie’s eyes found yours, you could practically see the cogs turning inside her head, it got you wondering what her depraved mind was going to come up with. “I dare you to… seduce my dad.” You almost spat your drink out, eyes widening at the request, palms hot with embarrassment. “What? You actually want me to do that? Are you insane?!” You asked, a confused look sat on your face. “Not to be rude but… you aren’t his type at all, so it’s a guaranteed point for me! I’m just being strategic!” She claimed, her eyes meeting yours, goading you to back down. Your heart sank at the confession, you couldn’t understand why it stung so much, it was just a little silly crush but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit this new information made you feel a bit low. Your hurt feeling started slowly turning to slight rage, still watching Natalie as she challenged you with her eyes.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting though? $100 suit you?” You smirked, pulling a hundred dollar bill out of your purse, waving it in her face, mocking her. She returned your smirk, that goddamn egotistical smirk she got from her father, her manicured hand coming out in front of her to offer a handshake to seal the deal. “You are on, sister. You have to bring something back to the table that’s his, it’s the only way I’ll believe you.” You raised from the couch, slamming your empty cup down on the small table, taking your hair clip out, hair falling to the top of your back in loose, bouncy pin up curls. The girls watched you walk through the patio doors, sliding it to let you in before continuing on with the game.

You got into the kitchen, a few people standing around in conversations, you politely asked one of them if they had seen the man you were seeking out, answering that he’d gone up to his bedroom to change shirts, alcohol being split on him about five minutes ago. Making your way to the top floor of the house, you started trying doors, having absolutely no clue which one was his as you’d never been in the house before. You came to the last one at the end of the landing, being met with the very man you wanted to see.

There he was, shirtless in front of you, his room rather large. A four poster bed in the centre of it, black and red silk sheets with matching puffy pillows, a small door which lead into a en-suite, two bookshelves at the sides of the bed, small circle led lights above the headboard. He threw the wet t-shirt he’d taken off into the wicker laundry basket, not yet noticing that you’d entered the room. “Mr Smith? Sorry for not knocking, I need to speak to you about something.” You mumbled, the anxiety of what you were about to ask him gaining on you. He slightly jumped, a flirty grin on his face when he realised it was you who was there. You took a seat in the leather loveseat, matching the bed sheets, red and black were obviously his favourites. Your hands nervously played with the hem of your dress, his eyes wandering to your delicate fingers. “I’m all ears doll, ask away!” He says, turning his back to you as he found another t-shirt to change into, you opened your mouth to talk, nervousness managing to stop you in your tracks.

He turned back around, his face contorting into a confused look, wondering what you be needing to ask that would get you so worked up like this. “So Natalie dared me to… seduce you in our game of truth or dare. I had every intention to give it my best shot but she told me I’m not your type. W-which is fine, but I kind of bet $100 on it. Is there any chance you could give me something out of this room that I can take down to prove I did it, without actually doing it?” You awkwardly explained, your eyes not being able to meet his, if they had you would have seen the shimmer in his eyes as you cutely fumbled over your words out of embarrassment. He let out a large laugh, your face squirming, if his daughters confession made you feel bad, this was ten times worse. You felt a small tear gathering at the bottom of your eye, wanting the earth to swallow you in this moment.

It was the touch on your knee that made you look up, meeting his gaze as he knelt down to come to face level with you, Negan hadn’t bothered to put another shirt on, the low light of the room landing on his body just right, your core feeling slightly slick as his muscles tensed deep. You thought he was about to make fun of you for such a childish request, when he grabbed your chin firmly, making your head stay in position it was, looking into his eyes, not having the nerve to look away.

“Now doll, please tell me why you’d ever listen to such a fucking stupid thing like that?” He questioned, his thumb tracing your jawline slightly, still holding your chin in place. Your ears perked up, the total opposite of what you thought he was going to say coming out. “Uh, I’m not sure?” You replied, your voice not coming out as confident as you would have liked, that smirk still on his face. He was enjoying watching you squirm underneath him, his hand let go of your chin, hooking either hand around the underside of your thighs, pulling you slightly forward so your ass was half on the chair and half off. “How about I do you one better? Why don’t we actually complete the dare, huh doll? I don’t know why she’d say some crazy shit like that, probably hasn’t been paying attention to how I haven’t taken my goddamn eyes off you all night. You’ve really grown into a fine ass woman, you know that right?” You let out a slight moan, the feeling of his large hands keeping your legs spread open for him to see making your whole body electric. A vision of white panties peaking out under your dress, your new position on the seat making it rise up to your waist. “Thanks for the compliment Negan, but if… if you don’t touch me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.” You managed to make out, in broken breaths, your chest rising heavily up and down as you did, eyes wandering to his abdomen.

“Your wish is my command, pretty girl. Just relax and let daddy take care of you.” He whispered lustfully as his fingertips moved your panties to the side, showing your ever wetting slick pussy to him. He had to take a sharp breath in, nothing he’d seen was a prettier sight that this, hadn’t even imagined you looking this good, exceeding his wet dreams. He gathered saliva in his mouth, a powerful spit right on the centre of you, you whimpering in response at the degrading and dirty action. “Well, look at that! Someone likes a bit of domination doesn’t she?” He proclaimed to you, he couldn’t believe his fucking luck. You gasped as he finally took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it softly, teasing you with his devilish tongue.

He moves back to your pussy where he runs his tongue over your wet lips. You let out a deep guttural groan, as you grab large pieces of his slicked back hair, tugging him slightly, guiding him to all the places, you needed attention on. Negan continued to lick long strips down from your sensitive bud to your opening, listening to your moans and whimpers as he did. “Fu-fuck Negan! Yes, your making me feel so good.” He took his tongue of you, whining at the loss of contact. A darker look shifted on his face, more pressure as his hand dug further into your thighs. “Listen here, dollface. Tonight I’m not Negan, tonight I am daddy, you get that? Or has my tongue already made that pretty little head of yours blank?” He growled out, his tone completely like nothing you’d ever heard him sound like before, you’d truly woken the beast inside this man and you couldn’t wait for the journey. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry daddy, please put your tongue back on me, it makes me feel so fucking good!” He sinisterly grinned at you, parting your folds again and letting your juices flow down onto his tongue. He finds himself vigorously tongue fucking you as you begin gyrating on the chair, trying to push your hips into his face more, nothing mattering to you more than the pleasure he was providing, while pulling his hair with your fingers.

As he begins sucking your clit, he works a couple of fingers deep into your pussy, finding how tight you clamped around him, trying to intensify your pleasure. Negan begins to alternate between licking and sucking your clit, as you became more and more impassioned. It isn't long before you thrusted your pussy hard against his face, his beard scratching against you as your first climax washed over you, your hips bucking even more, back arched, your arms that were holding you up shaking.

“Fuck, daddy, I need you inside me now, please!” You whined, Negan hoisting you up off the now wet chair, the slick shining sun in the light of the room. He slammed your body on the bed, your head hanging off the edge of the bed, the blood rushing to your ears. “Goddamn doll, this pretty little pussy is going to be the death of me, pull that top down, I want to see those tits bounce as I fuck you dumb.” You obeyed, pulling your breasts out of your dress, the style of dress restricting you from wearing a bra, cupping them and rubbing your nipples as well. He could have bust right there and then, the image of you below him, looking like something out of a damn Playboy magazine.

He trails kisses up your body, tasting the thin layer of sweat on your skin until he reaches your mouth where he kisses your lips deeply, snaking his tongue into your mouth as he lined up at your entrance, rubbing his dick up and down your folds, setting your whole body on fire, nerves standing on edge. He releases your mouth, moving to your neck, nipping and biting at it as he finally stretched you out, filling you up nicely.

“That’s it doll, fuck. You feel goddamn heavenly, such a good slut for my dick right?” He grunts out, leaning away from your neck to hover over you as he put his hands around your throat, his pace getting more erratic, unable to control himself from his hard thrusts as your skin slapped together. Your head was starting to go dizzy, between being upside down and your oxygen being slowly cut by Negan’s large hand, it intensified your impending orgasm. Negan pulled out quickly, turning you over from your back to your stomach, forcing your back to arch as much as you could, slipping back into you. The new angle sent you nearly cock drunk, Negan too mesmerised watching his dick going in and out of you, not noticing the door slowly opening slightly.

You looked over to see Natalie looking on at you and her father, like time had stopped in place. You couldn’t see her whole face, just her eyes. Frozen, she made no move to say anything or close the door. You smirked at her, your eyes not breaking eye contact. “Oh daddy! You fuck me so good, my pussy belongs to you!” You moaned, a narcissistic grin sitting happily on your mouth. “Shit yeah doll, this pussy is all fucking mine you dumb whore.” His hand coming down in your hair, his other placed around your neck again. Hips snapping repeatedly against you at a now familiar pace, a moan leaving you every time he snapped. You raised yourself up on your elbows, repeatedly rubbing your thumb over the tips of your index finger and middle finger, the universal sign for Pay Me. Her eyes squinted in anger, closing the door again, not wanting to see anything else and now pissed she owed you money.

You quietly laughed to yourself as quietly as you could, feeling your walls clamp on Negan’s dick as you were ready to orgasm. “Fuck daddy, I’m going to cum again!” You whimpered, gripping the silk sheets below you both, Negan shallowly grunting above you. “Shit doll, me too. Let go for me baby, milk daddy’s dick doll.” You squeezed the bed sheet again, your whole body shaking as you closed your eyes, breathing irregular as you flopped forward on the bed, panting heavy. Negan pulled out at just the right moment, hot spurts of his cum hitting your lower back, cooling off after a couple seconds sat there. He carefully placed himself next to you, pulling you towards him so you rested in his arm. “I’ve been waiting for that for years, you know?” You told him, your fingers slowly drawing small circles on his forearm. “Could have told me sooner doll, that was fucking sen-sat-ional! You are perfect.” You laughed, kissing the side of his face, leaving a small nip at his ear lobe.

Two orgasms and $100 richer, it was worth leaving the house after all.

[acc--deactivated]

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

───────────────────

Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

[mikalame]

Heyyy i loved “fixing up” can u pleaseee write some hcs of little tom and bill x reader😘🙏 (PLUS YOUR PROFILE IS SO CUTE I LOVE THE PINK)

-Kat💗

Just some cute lil head canons of being besties with the kaulitz gald you like the pick kat 😝

Taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

After band practice you 3 would go to there house and play with their dads cards and play snap and go fish while eating snacks or talking about the being famous.

Playing around with the kaulitz mums makeup and bill copying what you do and doing it on himself but yk messy cuz yall are 8.

Helping tom with his dreads up keep or just raking your nails through his dreads aswell as bill or brushing out the hair spray in bills hair after a concert.

After bill went to star church and he only comes 2nd you comfort him by you and tom doing silly things like falling over or making funny faces and only stopping when bill cant breath cause hes laughing to hard

When its yours or theirs birthday you always do a cake smash where you 3 just make a total mess of the dining table and just trash it.

When your having a sleepover you 3 go to the park with like a cig each and smoke it while hiding in one of those plastic tubes that you hide in and when ever you heard something you would snuff it out and peek out of the holes in the tube.

When tom had told both of you he had lost his virginity you and bill made a cake with like a lil card and candles with icing congratulating him about it

When you got your first boyfriend and they saw you and that person holding hands then doing a cute lil peck on the lips they would scrub your hand till RED same with your face it would look like you had red lipstick smudge

If you were neighbours with them you 3 would have friday nights bbqs your parents would still and drink while you 3 would be running out of each house causing a muck and would end up sleeping on the trampoline

Your parents would also do like a carpool rotation so they would take turns taking you 3 into school and out of it

In school you and bill would hide under the bleachers during lunch and would gossip about what was happening in school or just people you didn't like

You three doing dress up and being all cute and stuff like tom being dressed as a dragon, you as a knight and bill as a lil princess being stuck in the tree house and tom pretending to kill him while you come in a save him

You sneaking over climbing through their window with your parents wine but spitting it out on the ground cause of the taste and putting it back like nothing happened

If you guys went on school exhibitions you would always try and be together and try and complete they scavenger hunts before the other groups you would always be super competitive

You three would do drawing comps and get your parents to judge but because they don't wanna be rude they say you 3 tied but being competitive little 9 year olds you start yelling at them to pick a winner and that you wont be sad if one of the other win (bill cry's when he don't win then tom calls him a sore loser (only when he wins tho)

Being the only girl you have some ups and downs they might be a little bit softer on you but not a lot you would also get teased a lot if it was windy and your hair was getting messed up.

Trying to bake and you 3 just end up throwing flour at each other and you and tom ending up on the floor brawling over who was going to mix but bill just ends up doing rolling his eyes.

At carnivals you 3 would get matching stick on tattoos like tom would get a lion bill would get a tiger and you would get a leopard all on your arm like a sleeve and would look in the mirror flexing and posing.

Every now and again you get beg tom enough to put makeup over him give him a make up tom usually ruins it by drawing a fake mustach on himself with eyeliner when you and bill rent looking

Hope you like Kat 😘

[dontexpectmuch]

part 4 - [Lost in Madrid]

-

author note; btw for those who dont know me. im a whore for angsty fics w no happy ending 🤭 just for ur information hehehehe,, hope you enjoy this part, mwah mwah

- did not proofread!

series.masterlist

-

shit, you should have gone to the toilet one last time before leaving, your nerves messing with your stomach in an uncomfortable way. your hands feel clammy, getting warmer the longer you hold the bouquet of flowers.

you don’t even know why you feel so nervous, it’s not like you’re meeting a friends [yuck] parent for the first time. you try to reason with it by telling yourself that you simply do not want to be annoyed by judes presence in front of his mother [yeah sure], you actually want to meet her.

taking one last breath, trying to stay calm, you knock on the door and put on your best smile you could muster, not wanting to come off as rude.

you hear plates cling and metallic utensils fall down, before the door is opened abruptly by none other than jude himself. he looks out of breath, chest heaving up and down, you note, but he also looks good [too good, yes you admit].

black baggy pants, an oversized grey shirt and a necklace in the middle of his chest on top of it, his face adoring a smile.

“already in love with me?” he greets you, smirking as he leans against the door frame.

you roll your eyes, turning around to just leave. you can’t even take one step as you feel judes hand closing around your upper arm, [unfortunately] halting you movements.

he laughs, pulling you inside and telling you where to put your shoes, “mum’s been cooking all day.” he tells you, making you follow him to the kitchen.

your eyes look around, the apartment is beautiful, you think, nice view over the city from the living room, high ceilings and a homey feeling greeting you as you step into the living room slash kitchen area, the smell of fresh food finding its way to your nose.

denise calls your name as she sees you walk in, drying her hands on her apron to invite you to a hug which you gladly accept.

“these are for you.” you take a step back to get the flowers from judes hands, handing them to his mother who smiles at you widely.

“you didn’t have to, honey!” she lifts them up to her nose, smelling them. “they are wonderful, thank you.”

“just as wonderful as you are, denise.” you genuinely say back, watching her chuckle as she moves back to the kitchen to find a vase.

“just as wonderful as you are.” jude mocks you, his face near your ear to keep it between you guys.

without looking at him, you hit his chest [should’ve been his face], making him choke on his spit.

he coughs roughly, hand on your shoulder to stabilize himself, “dude, that’s mean!”

“you’re mean!” you draw your eyebrows together and decide to move to the kitchen to see if you could help.

however it seems like denise already prepared everything for dinner, the only thing left is to sit down and enjoy it together, which you do.

the room is filled with laughter and conversations about various topics, creating a warm atmosphere. even though you haven’t noticed it so far, the feeling of eating together as a family is truly one thing that you have missed since you’ve been in madrid, filling your heart with a sense of peace. you wouldn’t tell jude about [he would never live that down], but you are quite thankful for meeting him, him granting you this opportunity of feeling familiarity in a foreign country.

“how long until you finish university?” denise asks, taking a sip of her drink.

you swallow your food, “well, after my internship it might take around eight weeks to get the results.” you hum, organizing your thoughts, “afterwards everything goes pretty fast, i would have to hold a presentation, explain and defend my results and own theories. after that i will hopefully graduate.”

her eyes widen, “that’s a lot, no?”

jude speaks up as well, body leaning back against his chair, “that takes so long, no wonder you’ve become a grandma-“

he suddenly yells, almost jumping out of his seat, “ow! guys no need to attack me from both sides!”

“deserved.” you roll your eyes, sweetly smiling at denise who returns the gesture, asking you if you would like to eat some more food.

“yes, please! everything tastes amazing, denise. thank you so much.” you hand her your plate, watching her get up to move to the kitchen.

“my legs hurt.” jude whines from beside you, making you scoff.

“shouldn’t have been so rude, then.”

“how am i supposed to know that i would get attacked from both sides! my legs are very important, y’know!” his voice gets louder, body leaning towards you.

denise comes back, hand your plate back to, “doesn’t mean that you can say rubbish to our guest.” she comes to your aid, smiling at you.

“wow, you two really work against me, eh?”

“yes.” denise and you say at the same time, focusing on the food in front of you.

judes whining is heard every now and then throughout the dinner, however the two of you decide to ignore him and focus on your pleasant conversation. you help her with the dishes afterwards, while jude takes out the trash. [obviously complaining about how he always has to do the hatd work, you continue to ignore him.]

“i heard that you live close-by.” denise continues your conversation as you sit down on the couch in the living room, half empty cup of tea in your hand.

you nod, [wishing wouldn’t have to] “jude told me that you guys live down the street after we met at the grocery store.”

“best thing to ever happen to you.” you hear judes [attra-, annoying!] voice from behind you, his hands now resting on the couchs back behind you.

“mh, sure.”

denise laughs at you two, getting up to put her cup back. you follow suit, also getting ready to leave as you have seen that it has been already two hours since you came. you hug denise, thanking her for the food and kind hospitality, and also telling her to visit you sometime.

jude walks to the front door with you, watching you put on your shoes, “why are you leaving already?”

you pause, looking up, “eh, it’s getting late?”

you finish putting on your shoes, grab your bag and move to open the door. jude does the same, your hands now meeting on the doorknob, making you pause your actions. you quickly pull back, clearing your throat as you watch him open the door for you.

“want me to walk you home?” his voice is low, making the hair on your neck stand up. [because it’s annoying, nothing more.]

you shake your head, stepping outside, “‘m meeting a friend.”

“this late?” he crosses his arms in front of his chest, once again leaning against the doorframe.

frowning, you stem your hands on your hips, “pardon? who are you again?”

“your bestest best friend?” jude copies your attitude, smirking as he sees your eyes roll.

“‘m going.” your start to walk away, putting an end to this [ridiculous] conversation.

“text me when you’re home! and don’t stay out for too long!” he calls after you.

“yes, mom!” you call back, not bothering to turn around to look at his [handso-, no, stupid] face.

-

“but what is so wrong of being friends with him?” amanda asks, setting her glass of wine down.

music is heard through the box that was standing on the coffee table, filling the room quietly. the moon shines through the windows, amandas chain led-lights dimmed down, a comfortable vibe hovering within the room.

you sigh, leaning your head back with your eyes closed. fuck, you don’t even know why you’re so against it.

“i just,” you try to gather your thoughts, taking a sip from the glass, “i won’t be here for long, y’know? i don’t want to bond with someone like that only to never see them ever again.”

amanda chuckles, patting your knee softly, “mija, why wouldn’t you guys see each other again? that doesn’t make sense.”

“it does!” you try to defend yourself, sitting up, “i have to focus on my studies, afterwards get a job. i won’t be able to meet him in madrid whenever i miss him.”

“so you admit that you like him?” she teases you, nudging your foot with hers.

you groan, [sadly] admitting that you actually grew to enjoy his presence in the past month.

“i mean, he is annoying, loud, rude and calls me grandma, pushes me away to cheat when we race, throws his sweaty towel at me, and water too, and he-“

amanda cuts you off, telling you to get to the point.

“he, i don’t even know, he is actually fun to be around. being friends with him, getting used to his presence isn’t hard, it almost came naturally.” you explain, pulling your knees to your chest to rest your chin on them.

“but why be so upset about something that hasn’t happened yet?” amanda asks, sipping on her wine. her eyes are on you, and even though it’s the rooms lights are dimmed, you can still see the warmth seep through them, a sense of comfort washing over you.

“but it will happen, ‘manda.” you know that you are being unnecessarily pessimistic, but you can’t help it. “i don’t want to get attached only for it to break my heart into pieces.”

she sighs, “what will you do then?”

you shrug, not so sure yourself. you could create a certain distance between you and him, trying to lose some attachment that you [unfortunately, you would never tell him] have. but that wouldn’t be fair to jude, either. he didn’t to anything wrong. how would you explain that to him?

‘hey, i actually quite like being around you and being friends with you, but i don’t want to get used to you because i know that it will break my heart, yeah, so, bye!’? you scoff at this thought, head starting to hurt as you try to come up with different explanations.

amada gets up to go to the bathroom, hand on your shoulder as a sign of comfort as she passes by.

now that you are alone, you put your forehead against your knees, deeply exhaling. the music in the background helps as a distraction from your thoughts, though this sound of it gets interrupted by your phone. a new notification. you don’t bother to check who it is - your heart starts to beat fast as you think of someone who it might be. but you don’t lift your head, wanting to be left alone during your [pitiful] situation.

you have never had this problem before. you loved to meet people whenever you travel, creating memories with them and cherishing those whenever you think about it. this situation, everything about jude is just weird, you don’t know [or do you?] why he is such a big concern of yours, as if you actually are the moon, turning i orbits around its sun, in this case, jude. you should be friends with him, enjoy the time the two of you have left and then leave madrid, letting him be a new, nice memory.

“still thinking ’bout it?” amandas voice pulls you out of your thoughts, eyes now focusing on her.

you nod, sighing. it seems like it is the only thing left to do for you, sighing and hopelessly waiting around, though you are not sure for what exactly.

“do you like him?” she asks, filling her glass with some more wine before taking a sip.

“well, yeah. i think we’re friends.” you reply, feeling weird [like betraying yourself] when actually admitting that you think of jude as a friend.

she laughs, shaking her head, “no, no, i meant like, do you like like him?”

“no!” you tell her [yeah sure], quite offended that she would think that you would fall for someone like jude [you would].

“then why are you so sad about it?”

“don’t know, don’t wanna talk about it, please.” you lay down on the couch, looking up the ceiling.

your phone rings again, this time thrice in a row. you sigh while rolling your eyes, lazily lifting it up to look at who has been bothering you for the last few minutes.

NEW NOTIFICATION

[from; Jude Bellingham]: four new messages.

you immediately sit up, eyes wide. fuck, why is he texting you right now? you don’t have the nerve to talk to him right now [you always do].

“is it him?” amanda asks, looking up from her won phones display, smirking.

“yeah.” you mumble, unsure of what to do. you shouldn’t let him wait, should you? that’s not very nice, maybe it’s an emergency?

amanda speaks up again, “well, answer him, chica! why the hesitation?”

“don’t know.” you shrug, laying down again.

you hear amanda sigh, but she doesn’t comment on anything anymore, seemingly giving up on the situation. you take a deep breath while unlocking your phone, heart beating against your chest.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: r u home yet?

[from; Jude Bellingham]: dk what u did but mum still talks abt u

[from; Jude Bellingham]: u ok?? wya?

[from; Jude Bellingham]: txt me when ur home

putting your phone back down, you sigh, head between your hands. you don’t understand why his texts make you feel so, how should you describe it, anxious? he doesn’t do anything wrong, he is just trying to be a good friend, you should appreciate it instead of panicking.

groaning, you get up, taking your now empty glass to put it into the dishwasher in amandas kitchen.

“you leavin’?” amanda asks you, still seated on the couch, her head turned towards you.

you nod, tiredly rubbing your eyes as you walk back to kiss her cheek as a goodbye, “thank you for today.”

she smiles, her hand resting in your cheek in a comforting manner, “text me when you’re home, ‘kay?”

“‘kay.”

you put on your shoes, tell her goodbye one last tome before leaving her home, the soft breeze of the night welcoming you. it isn’t cold, you don’t have to wear a jacket, but somehow you can’t help but cross your arms as you begin to walk home. the night is still young, you hear people shouting and talking amongst themselves down the street, music accompanying their conversations.

the walk back doesn’t take long, you arrive just about fifteen minutes later as you open the door to the building, sighing as you see the stairs in front of you.

-

[to; Jude Bellingham]: just arrived home

[to; Jude Bellingham]: what can i say, moms like me :)

you lay down in your bed, night routine done and ready to sleep. you try to concentrate on your breathing, laying still on your back as a contrast to the chaos going on in your head, not letting you rest properly.

“tsk,” you try to lay on your left side, back now facing your phone on the nightstand, “stupid stuff.”

as soon as you hear your phone vibrate you immediately turn around, the brightness of your display hurting your eyes.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: cool cool

you move to type an answer, though a new message from him comes in,

[from; Jude Bellingham]: were u w dk what his name was?

rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile at his [cu-, stupid] text.

[to; Jude Bellingham]: his name is lorenzo

[from; Jude Bellingham]: basic ass name

[to; Jude Bellingham]: no i was at amandas

[from; Jude Bellingham]: shouldn’t u be at sleep rn? grandmas should go to bed early

oh you can practically hear jude giggling at his own text, him finding joy in reminding you that you are older than him. you catch yourself stupidly smiling at his text and clear your throat, sitting up properly before texting back.

[to; Jude Bellingham]: was abt to but u texted me

[from; Jude Bellingham]: okok sry

[from; Jude Bellingham]: good night

[from; Jude Bellingham]: sweet dreams (of me)

[to; Jude Bellingham]: id rather choke

[to; Jude Bellingham]: good night :)

fuck.

———————————————————

“guys, please don’t forget to finish writing your team report for next week, ask for help if you need to, please.” you remind your students as they walk out of the room, smiling your way as they tell you goodbye.

you turn around to pack your own things, a knock on the door catching your attention.

“hola, señorita.” lorenzo greets you, smile wide and cheeks rosy, probably from the heat outside.

he walks up to you, kissing your cheek as a greeting before leaning against your desk, watching you as you continue to pack your bag.

“how can i help you, señor?” you say, happy to see your friend.

it has been a while since you last saw him, getting caught up in work and writing your thesis, and well, other people.

“are we walking home today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes staring at yours.

“you see-“

“ah! there you are!” judes voice appears by the door, cutting you off.

you roll your eyes, trying to fight of a smile. he always greets you loudly when he picks you up to walk to the open field together, comfortable banter hovering between you two on tour walk there.

“i have a practical session afterwards, sorry.” you point towards jude, who is still standing by the door, eyes focusing on the guy next to you.

poor lorenzo, you think, he didn’t do anything wrong, yet jude always finds way to hate on him, comparing the two of them. [he somehow is always the better one]

“i see.” lorenzo looks at jude, then he turns back to you, kissing you on the cheek as a goodbye before leaving the room.

jude walks inside, rolling his eyes as he points at the direction lorenzo went, “what is his problem?”

your eyebrows pull together, “eh, nothing?”

you sling your bag on your shoulder, walking out of the room with jude following you, “think you gonna score today?”

jude laughs, scratching his cheek, “i will, if you stop directing your negativity towards me.”

offended, you look up at him, walking through the tunnel that leads to the field, “what’s that supposed to mean? i don’t even have the time to look at you.” [that’s a lie, you catch yourself following him around the field more than you’d like to admit]

“you should, though, i am very exciting to watch.” jude blinks - in his case winks - down at you, putting his bag down next to your seat.

you hum, not wanting to ket him now that he’s right, taking a seat on the bench as you pull out your writing block and pencil from your bag.

señor lagarde yells at jude from the field, telling him to get moving. jude shouts out that he is coming and gets moving, hitting your foot with his one last time as he leaves.

-

the suns heat makes you feel dizzy, and you wish that you would have taken your water bottle with you, instead of relying on the water bottles at the center. your shoes feel tight, your dress makes you want to throw yourself off a bridge and your hair isn’t looking as good as you wish it did.

“we should definitely cook together like, at least once.” jude throws in as the two of you walk past a restaurant.

you don’t register what jude says, “yeah, sure.”

“wait, really?” his voice sounds surprised at your agreement, and suddenly you feel awake, the feeling of having said something that you might regret sinking in.

“uh, wait, what did you say?”

“nah,” jude shakes his head, mischievously smiling at you, “can’t take it back now.”

“jude,” you whine, hating yourself for giving him such power, “c’mon dude, i’m tired.”

“don’t care.”

you come to a halt in front of the apartment building, getting ready to say goodbye to him, but he speaks up again, sounding too excited for your liking.

“let’s do it now, i’m ready.”

fuck, did you actually agree to sleep with him? is this why he won’t tell you?

nervously, you back off, “listen jude, i didn’t mean it, i mean yeah, you’re nice, but i really don’t want to-“

“c’mon, cooking together is actually really cool, i’m not that bad, ask mum.”

you feel relief wash over you, like a ton has been lifted up from your shoulders. suddenly, the grass looks greener, the birds chirp sweeter, the sky looks cleaner, today is such a nice day, you note, everything is just amazing-

“hello?” jude flicks your forehead, pulling you out of your daydreams as you cover your forehead with your hand, offended by his actions.

“dude!”

“let’s go, c’mon!” he tells you once more. you decide to give him, otherwise he won’t stop annoying you.

you open the door and the two of you walk up, jude tries to make you trip once, you alap the back of his head, but you safely arrive at your apartment door. opening it, you take of your shoes, you move to the kitchen while jude goes to the bathroom. looking through your fridge, you take out a few ingredients to cook some pasta with vegetables, simple but tasty.

you wait for jude to come back before you also go to the bathroom to freshen up, then you quickly get changed into something more comfortable.

“where’s your-“ jude walks into your room as you are in the middle of putting on your shirt, stopping mid sentence. “oh, fuck.” he shuts the door fast, an awkward apology leaving his mouth.

quickly putting on the shirt and taking a deep breath, you walk out the room to find jude awkwardly standing next to your door, his hands placed in front of him.

“‘m genuinely sorry, dude, like, i should have knocked.” he apologizes once more, his behavior making you smile. [because he looks stupid, not cute.]

“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.” you try to lift the mood by bumping your hips against his, winning a smile.

you walk back to the kitchen and start to give him the instructions to prepare the vegetables, yourself focusing on the sauce and the pasta.

it is like athletes getting in ‘the zone’, jude and you entirely focusing on your tasks at hand. you wanted to put on some music, but somehow the thought falls short, now the sound of you two working and moving around the kitchen filling the room. it’s nice, you don’t have the need to fill in the silence with small talk, since it doesn’t make you feel awkward. you hear jude hum the melody of a song and decide to listen to that, though it sounds rough.

“this big enough?” judes voice us soft, he moves next to you to show you the size of the tomato he cut, his body’s heat closing around you, relaxing at his closeness.

“yeah, just make sure that it doesn’t get too small.” you tell him, still stirring the sauce.

“yes, chef.” he salutes, continuing to cut up the vegetables.

everything goes on really well, the pasta looks great, the sauce tastes good and the vegetables are done. you plate the food and ask jude to take them to the table, which he does. as he comes back to put a dirty knife into the sink, you feel his big hand on the small of your back.

only when he moves back to the table you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest.

without further ado, you sit down around the table, “buen provecho.”

“you too.” jude immediately puts some of it into his mouth, groaning [literally moaning] at its taste.

though you agree with him that it tastes good, you don’t moan, but laugh at jude for shoving the food in to his mouth.

“the food won’t run away, y’know.” your teasing makes him look up from his plate, like a deer caught in the middle of the road.

“it’s so good.” his cheeks are full of food, however his sentence comes out clear.

a laugh escapes from your lips, somehow this entire situation is just funny to you. if someone would’ve told you two months ago that you would cook and eat dinner with jude bellingham during your internship, you’d pay their therapy from your own money. but now, look after you. here you are, eating some delicious pasta, the sun setting in the background and jude calling your name over and over again because you won’t listen to him. [you leaned how to ignore him]

“yes, jude?” you decide to answer him, his voice starting to irritate your ears.

“what are we gonna eat first dessert?”

“you leaving will be my dessert.” you sarcastically smile at him.

jude slumps back against his chair, exaggerated sigh leaving his mouth, “you were supposed to say ‘you’”

“tsk, you? where are you a dessert?” you can already feel your eye start to twitch, knowing that he will annoy you until you do as he says.

clapping his hands once, jude laughs, leaning forward, “people on the internet have other opinions, though.”

“great.”

you get up to clean your plate, not bothering to continue this [stupid] conversation.

jude appears next to you as you rinse your glass, plate at hand, “soo, ice cream?”

-

“don’t you miss your family?” judes side profile is highlighted by the moonshine, the many stars in his eyes now present in the deep blue sky.

though it is still warm outside, you have a thin blanket draped over your shoulders, ice cream bowl sits empty on the little table between jude and yourself.

“don’t you miss leaving me alone.” you respond, bith of you aware that you don’t actually mean it. [you do, you’re really tired and want to sleep].

“answer me, jalapeño.”

you scoff, turning your head to look at him, “that’s a stupid name.”

he turns to look at you as well, sleepy smile on his lips, “suits you, though.”

“no.”

“answer my question.”

you take a second to think, “well, yeah, i guess.”

“you guess?” judes eyes follow you as you get up to lean against the rail on the small balcony, eyes looking down at the street.

you hear him get up as well, his body now next to yours, its heat slowly coming your way. you have to fight the urge to lean against him, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“i do, i really miss my mum and my nephew,” you begin, the thought of your two year old nephew making you smile, “but i also love it here. i think i’ll even sadder to leave madrid than i was when i left home.”

jude hums in understanding, softly bumping his body against yours, “it’s because of me, right? i’m just so amazing, i’d miss me too.”

“tsk, yeah sure.” [it’s a lie]

the sound of a car passing by fills the silence between you, and you feel judes body slowly lean against yours, staying there. you don’t bother telling him to move away [you don’t want to], your body starts to tingle, warmth spreading through it. even though the night is calm, your mind is anything but that, different scenarios passing through your mind as you try to concentrate on anything but judes body. you feel his finger touching yours, slowly moving up your arm. you feel the hair on your neck stand up, heart rate picking up and each breath like its fueling the fire inside of you. you know he feels it, too, his finger is shaking as it moves up to your back, hand now caressing your neck.

you turn to look at jude, he does the same, it feels oh so slow as you two near each other, his eyes moving from your eyes down to your lips and back up, you feel it down to your feet, the tingling now numbing all of your senses. jude leans down, your faces now centimeters apart as he closes his eyes. you tilt your head to the side, feeling his breath on your skin as you also close your eyes.

the moon slowly disappears between you two, and you move to close the gap until -

[geospiral]

“I want to be someone’s stepping stone; I want the memory of me to haunt that person so that I may live through them and be beside them without having to stay. I know that's selfish and cruel, but if the path has already been laid out for me and I have no choice but to die, then I want to at least be able to choose who I die for. And to be honest, I will probably regret this decision when I’m lying there and spitting up my own blood, but at least it will be mine… and I think I can rest easy knowing that.”

Moran, a top student when it comes to all things excluding singing, can best be described as being Anakt Garden’s very own “Thinker.” Often found sitting on the very left edge of the garden’s box, she is willing to lend an ear to those in need.

Alien Stage OC Base made by @shakingparadigm

_____________________________________________________________

Anakt Garden:

Moran is not a person who will intentionally seek other people out, but she does enjoy when others come to her, usually in the form of seeking guidance. This guidance can range from simply helping a fellow student with their class work to teaching others some of what she knows about the Segyein’s entertainment industry, a topic that she is familiar with due to her upbringing. 

She likes talking about philosophy, giving general worldly advice, and being a mediator to her fellow classmates, trying her best to be an impartial judge.

Moran also likes “reading” other people’s fortunes as a kind of game. It’s not anything serious; you ask her a specific topic about the future, such as “Am I going to pass the test?” and then give her as much information as you can about your chosen topic in order for her to make an educated guess. If she guesses correctly, you have to give her something, and if she doesn't, then she’ll give something to you. The items are nothing big, just small treasures like a pretty stone from the stream or an Anakt Garden lollipop. Moran also keeps a small collection of things she finds or is given in case others would just like to do general bartering with her; however, she doesn’t hold any real attachment to the things she collects and will usually trade her items away in exchange for short-lived treats such as candy, drinks, or a bubble wand.

Moran gets along fine with the other students, and although she can be pretty blunt at times, to the point of unintentionally seeming rude, she does her best to stay on everyone’s good side. She was raised with many others under her Guardian, so she has always been used to living alongside her fellow humans; however, the experiences were not great, causing her to have trouble telling when others genuinely like her or wish to be her friend. It doesn’t help that it only seems that her classmates come to her when they need something.

______________________________________________________________

Background:

Moran’s Guardian, Rheya, is a well-known and respected theater director with a theatrical troupe composed of the many humans under her, raising them from a young age to be her personal actors. By having her plays consist of an entirely human cast, Rheya is able to push the limits of her plays' theatrics in ways that she simply could not when working with her fellow Segyeins. Her plays are touted for their stories and visual spectacles; however, they can tend to be extremely dangerous for the humans involved, with many sustaining real injuries throughout their performances.

Despite the humans of the troupe referring to Rheya as their "mother,” they do not view one another as family but rather as competition when it comes to gaining their Guardians' affection. Bullying amongst the group is commonplace; if one person is punished, everyone is, which leads to that one individual being viciously humiliated and outcast by their peers and being sent down levels in the troupe’s personal social hierarchy.

(Note: The troupe’s hierarchy is loosely inspired by that of the video game Rule of Rose; I haven’t played it, and it's basically impossible to do so without pirating, but I got the idea from the video analysis of the game by RagnarRox.)

Rheya did not want to stop her storytelling at just theater production; however, she wanted to extend her reach further and saw Alien Stage as a chance to do just that, devising a long-term plan to craft what will hopefully be one of her best stories. She wants the story to go like this: she will choose two of her humans, one to send to Anakt Garden and the other to stay with her, molding him into the next big celebrity pet. The one sent to the garden, Moran, would be used as fodder in order to boost the fame of the other human pet, Adam, under the guise that the reason she trained for and performed in Alien Stage was to gain the other’s attention, subsequently dying in the competition. Upon finding this out, Adam would then go on to perform in the next Alien Stage season after her to avenge the women who loved him, winning in the process.

Rheya doesn’t have any faith that Moran can survive her Alien Stage season, and neither does Moran herself, but while Moran is in the garden, she hopes to find someone who she can truly die for in the competition, someone she actually cares for, unlike Adam, whom she barely knows and has never loved. If Moran must die, she wants it to be meaningful to her and the one she adores. She wants to make it her own choice.

[moved--accs]

glowing | lee know.

You know that your feelings for Lee Minho were past a simple crush at this point–you really couldn’t bring yourself to date other people without the constant thought that they’re not him haunting your mind. But somewhere between sly smirks and stolen glances, you knew he was intrested in you too. You also knew your brother would absolutely hate seeing his little sister with one of his best friends, but Minho won’t tell if you don’t.

Best friend’s brother!Minho, female reader. ~8.2k words.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), very slight dom!minho i guess, one thigh slap, minho spits in reader’s mouth (i’m sorry), penetration, squirting and unprotected sex. MDNI.

Author’s note: this was requested by cait !! i love you cait !! tysm for sticking around for so long, it means the world to me <333 i really don’t know how i feel about this one since it’s my longest oneshot yet, but i hope everyone enjoys it :) also, if you like listening to music while reading, bad idea by ariana grande really helped me settle the mood for this. reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 

To you, Minho is a force of nature. His stance alone demands attention in every room he walks into: sharp and seemingly judgy eyes tear people apart in the matter of a milisecond, then a sudden shift of countenance would offer a sweet, charming smile at them. But never to you. He carries a couple of years more than you on his back, experience and maturity seem to bleed through every interaction you have–promptly, and unknowingly, putting you in your place whenever you two exchange a simple, two-second glance with each other.

To you, Minho is magnetic. It seemed to be a shared secret, those glances you stole from each other. You only ever were in the same space when your older brother called his friends over, half a dozen bodies always in the way of your favorite activity–catch him looking. The way he never shied away always made you shiver. You tell yourself you broke eye contact so quickly because you were afraid someone would catch on to this ongoing staring contest, but really, you don't think you can handle to watch the smirk grow on his lips without tripping over nothing. Minho never smiled at you. It was never sweet–every single time he acknowledged you felt like a dare. With avoidant eyes and shaky hands, you played into every single one of them.

"I can drive her, man. It's no big deal." He told your brother–who was locking your home's door behind him–but his eyes didn't leave yours.

Your brother often invited you to hang out with his friends, so when he randomly showed up in your room asking if you'd like to join them for a night out, you had no reason to say no. The thing is: all the seats in your brother's car were already taken by his girlfriend and her friends, who were currently already getting comfortable in his vehicle. Minho's eyes are locked in yours, his black hair glistening blue in the moonlight making him look a bit more intimidating, much more inviting. The smirk in his lips is a telltale–as if he's challenging you to say no. You could get an Uber to the party–you know that–or you could simply tell your brother to politely ask one of his partner's friends to find another ride. Maybe that would come off as a bit rude, but you know he'd do it for you. You could even sit in one of the girls' laps, that's not unusual. He knows that, and he's looking at you as if your head is transparent, and he can see all of the cogs putting in the work.

"Are you sure? GPS is saying it's kind of a long drive, and I know you'll want to drink when we get there."

"I'm fine with taking her as long as she prefers getting an Uber or something." Minho says, turning to your brother for a brief moment, "It's up to her, really."

Forty minutes is not that long, but you know it would feel like ages.

"What do you say?" Your brother turns to you.

You've never been fully alone with him before, jumping from that to spending such long time by yourselves, in his car, seems suffocating. Too secluded. Too private. You feel the familiar shaking in your hands as they run down your skirt, straightening them.

"Fine by me."

You know you're staring–for some reason, you don't mind. Minho's eyes are focused on the road before you, midnight blue hair split in the middle, giving him a much bolder look than his usual fluffy bangs. The reflection of the city lights make his skin glow–iridescent glimmers of yellow, white and green paint his face–allowing you to get a full glimpse of his expression only for brief seconds.

He doesn't mind that you're staring either–his eyes find yours in a quick shift, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"You're not that bold when your brother's around."

You can feel your stomach turning. Straight to the point, then.

"Neither are you."

The man scoffs, looking out the window before replying. "You wouldn't be either if you heard how protective he is over you."

"I'm grown."

His head fully turns to you for the first time throughout this exchange, the empty road before him forgotten for a couple seconds. Minho's eyes shamelessly linger on your thighs as they travel up your body, until his gaze meets yours. He clicks his tongue, smirk growing on his lips right before his attention turns back to the road. "I can see that."

Effective as always, the words start fumbling in your brain as you struggle to form a coherent thought–you had to talk back. Anything.

"You're always staring at me. When you come over." Your voice is so quiet you wonder if he can hear you over the hum of wheels against concrete.

"Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No," you reply immediately, looking at him. "not at all."

He nods, humming. "Do you like how I look at you?"

Minho seems nonchalant, but also a bit expectant. The butterflies in your stomach seem like they won't allow you to answer nothing as witty as you had hoped.

"I do. You can... keep doing that."

He quickly looks at you again, smiling. "I can?" The car feels airtight after the next words lowly leave his lips. "Would you mind if I did something other than just look?"

Careful, quiet, expectant. If you stroke a match, the whole car would light on fire. "Weren't you worried about my brother?"

Your eyes are focused on the road, but you can hear the click of his tongue, "I won't tell if you don't."

The music is loud, and although enjoyable, you really can't bring yourself to focus on the party. The culprit was quick to lose you as soon as you both got to your destination, letting you know he was looking for your older brother. It seemed as if the group had gotten completely lost within the drunk crowd, and you were putting on an effort to not care about his absence, what he was doing, or who he was doing it with. But still, you could look for your brother. If Minho happened to be hanging around him, that would be purely a coincidence.

Still, your ego wouldn't give in. 'Enjoy tonight, forget about him. Dance like he's not watching–you'd get too shy if he was. Maybe I should drink, I'd feel more comfortable dancing. But I wanna stay sober tonight, though. Just in case. Forget about him.' It felt like the hardest you tried to empty your mind, the more Minho would plague it. You always feel like there's a pair of sharp eyes on you, even though you haven't seen him since you walked into this party. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, it probably was. Still, each time you sway your hips, you picture this specific set of eyes on you, studying your movements. You could feel it in the back of your neck, disappearing just in time before you turned around to catch him. If you were drunk, at least you'd have an excuse to think the way you are right now, but your only frail attempt of an excuse is how much you want him.

As it turns out, it seems like you were way too busy not looking for Minho to notice his presence before his breath touched your cheek, hand on your hip as he swayed behind you. "You're watching people walk in and out of this room like a hawk." You feel his gaze burning on your profile. "Who're you looking for? Wooseok?" He chuckles as you dramatically roll your eyes at him, "He sure as hell has been looking for you."

"I didn't even notice him, so..." Your stare back at him, immediately locked in a trance. His dark eyes seem to suck you in, everything else in the room drifting away when you focus on them.

Minho hums, bringing your back closer to his chest. "Of course you didn't." You don't fight against the way he spins you around, pressing your chest against his, lost in a sea of bodies touching each other. "You don't have eyes for anyone else, do you?"

Somewhere in the distance, too far away from the reality which Minho has sucked you into, you think you hear Wooseok calling your name. You can't really tell, though. Not when Lee Minho is looking down at you like that. Reality creeps it's way back into your mind when the man's head shoots up, apparently spotting his friend in the crowd. Minho backs up, meaning to leave the scene before he arrives. "You said you like it when I watch you." He says. "Put on a show."

Wooseok's hands are on your waist, his chest to your back. You're pretty sure he whispered something as he squeezed your hips, but you didn't quite catch it–Minho was leaning against the wall, eyes dead set on you. The poor lighting makes his gaze more intimidating as he brought a cup to his lips, eyes never leaving you. Slowly, his focus switches from your eyes to your neck. Your body rolls against the boy behind you, making sure your ass didn't touch his crotch. The only person you wanted to touch you like that is currently looking at you from across the room–his countenance seeming more and more annoyed the more you seem to enjoy Wooseok. It's your turn to smirk at him–for the first time ever, you're the one setting the game's rules. You keep your attention on Minho as you throw your head back on Wooseok's shoulder, letting him kiss down your neck.

How silly to think he'd hand the control over to you for this long. Minho brings his phone to his ear, sweetly smiling at you as he speaks. You keep dancing with the clueless boy behind you, putting on your best show for the man before you. He no longer tries to hide how long he admires your cleavage, jaw clenching each time Wooseok's hands would try to wander over your body. You'd stop him just before he reached your ass or your chest just to give Minho enough time to react–to watch the genuine annoyance on his face as someone else touched you. The butterflies in your stomach flap their wings violently at the indication that the man might be thinking about how he doesn't want no one else with their hands on you, the mere possibility of making him jealous starting to take over your consciousness. Suddenly, Minho smiles sweetly again. Way too sweetly. Before you can react, Wooseok seems to have been snatched off of your body–the heat of his back disappearing abruptly.

"Are you fucking serious, Wooseok? Out of all the people in this party?!" Oh, of fucking course. You can see Minho starts to laugh before you turn around, immediately approaching your brother. Wooseok stumbles, trying to regain balance after your brother pushed him off of you.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, alright?" You maintain you eyes focused on your brother, guiding him away from Wooseok.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?! What was that for?!" You weren't worried about an actual physical fight happening–you know both of them, and you know they wouldn't take it that far. Still, the way Wooseok raises his voice at your brother startles you.

"You're really gonna act like you don't know what that was for?"

Even though you were standing right in front of him, your brother's eyes were focused solely on the boy. "Hey, he wasn't doing anything by himself, alright?" He looks down at you, jawline clenched. "It's not a big deal."

"You don't need to pull shit like this. She's an adult, man."

"And you don't need to act like you're not always trying to pull my sister."

"What if I am? What the fuck does that have to do with you?!"

"Hey, hey, hey." Minho appears from Wooseok's side. He had a small smirk on his lips that didn't quite match the situation at hand. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"

"Nothing new, Min. He just can't keep it in his pants whenever she's around." Your brother says, gaze not budging from Wooseok's face as he tilts his head towards you.

"Chill the fuck out, alright? You're making me sound like a creep."

"I don't care. If you go after your friend's little sister you're a fucking creep."

You watch as Minho intervenes, calmly talking to both men as he attempts and succeeds to settle their nerves. His eyes switch from one side to the other, persuasive as always, convincing both of them to let it go. Your brother seems defeated when he finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You roll your eyes at the question. "Why wouldn't I be? He wasn't doing anything wrong."

"I don't know, you just seem tired."

"Well, yeah, obviously. This whole thing was stressful. I'm just glad nobody here gives a fuck to make a scene out of it." You sigh, looking over the crowd with crossed arms. "I'm done for tonight, though. I think I'm going home."

Your brother's demeanour is drastically different from earlier–puffed chest turned to slump shoulders, clenched jaw turned to a frown. You would feel sorry for him if this whole fiasco didn't affect directly the one thing you want so badly to happen tonight. Sure, Minho only snitched because he knew your brother's reaction would be bad–but you wonder if it was somehow worse than he imagined, if this whole headache was worth it. If you were worth it. All you know is you'd argue with your brother a million times if it meant Minho would touch you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I can give you a ride." You're about to deny your brother's offer, but Minho never loses a single opportunity.

"Really? You wanna leave already?" He asks the boy.

"Not really. I wanna stay. But if I ruined the night, then-"

"You can stay, man. I can take her. I was about to head home, anyway."

"He's right." You're learning how to follow his lead. "I don't want you to leave because of me."

Your brother looks at Minho and then at you. The air the three of you share seems heavy all of a sudden, the forced proximity due to the push and pull of the crowd suddenly suffocating. But then, your brother smiles. "I really owe you one, man."

Minho's touch on your wrist as he guides you out of the party lights your skin on fire, anticipation eating up your nerves. You wonder if you'll make it to his house at all–you hope you don't. You hope he gets so desperate to touch you he doesn't care who's seeing, you hope he fucks you in his car and when you get to his house and when you wake up the morning after.

But that's just wishful thinking–that's your brain and your anticipation and your yearning yelling at the top of its' lungs, begging for the man who's leading you down the street to look your way so he can see the sheer desperation in your eyes. But Minho's not like you at all. And he's not like the million versions your mind made him out to be, either. Minho is cool, collected. Years of being around him and you've never seen him lose composure, and your gut feeling tells you you won't see it tonight.

Charming as always, he opens the door to the passenger seat when you finally reach his car. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as he starts driving, waiting for him to give you any sign of a confirmation that this is really going where you think it is.

"You look nervous." His hair was messy from how much he pushed it back throughout the night–repeating the motion now, eyes fix on the road, a few buttons now loose on his shirt. He looked more relaxed and it blew your mind how he managed to end the night looking better than how he started it. "There's no need to be. I can just take you home, if that's what you want."

"So... that wasn't the plan all along?" The breathiness of your voice, or perhaps the words that were attached to it, make the man chuckle, quickly stealing a glance from you.

"The plan is whatever you want it to be."

The car falls silent, his open invitation hovering over you as the street lights colour the beautiful boy beside you like a blank canvas. You wondered how on earth your body was able to prevent itself from lighting on fire–you could feel your fingertips burning with pure want, skin attracted to his like magnet. As every inch of your being desperately tried to keep your composure, you were able to mutter an answer just above a whisper. "I just-" You swallow the lump in your throat, "I'm waiting for a green light, Min."

You both know that's bullshit, and Minho's smile proves that. You have been known he was interested in you, but the sheer intimidation you felt every time he looked your way had you convinced that you would never, in a million years, make a move on him. Minho can't help but find it adorable–the way you'd squirm in your seat to avoid looking at him, hands fidgety every time he talked to you, eyes shaky every time he caught you looking. Your body language was screaming for him every second he was around, but this drawn out torture was too delicious for him to just give in to without watching you struggle first. He smirks to the road ahead of him, chuckling before replying. "You have one now. What are you gonna do with it?"

You whimper, and his eyes switch to you for a moment as fast as lighting. "Can't you just..." You trail off, hips settling further on his passenger seat.

"Can't I just...?"

"Make things easier for me?"

He chuckles, "And where's the fun in that, pretty?"

Your body leans slightly towards him before you can process it, desperation finally catching onto your sanity. You're doe eyed as your torso turns towards his direction, demanding attention which he, obviously, doesn't give you. "I want you to take me home, Min."

"I'm doing that."

"No, I-" your heart beats so loud in your eardrums you can't really hear the next words leaving your mouth–that might be the sole reason why you were able to say them. "I want your hands on me."

His hand immediately lands on your thigh, groping the flesh as he hummed, focus still on the road. Your foolish heart soars at how fast he reacted, and even though your shaky voice leaves you in no position to tease him, you can't help yourself. "You seem eager."

He raises an eyebrow when he looks your way, detaching his palm from your skin and tracing his fingertips up your inner thigh until your breath hitches in your throat. He chuckles at your gasp, hand now gripping your thigh again. "Do I?"

Your legs spread instinctively, making the man hum in satisfaction, stealing a glimpse of your thighs every once in a while. As he gets bolder, you get more desperate–the anticipation making your cunt flutter around nothing, watching as his fingers get closer to where they belong. You quietly whine his name when his hand slips under your dress, middle finger tapping your clothed core. He laughs at you as his other hand turns the wheel. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to get you like this- all shy and whiny for me." He explains, finger tracing your clothed slit ever so slightly, feeling the fabric dampen. "Did dancing with Wooseok get you this excited?"

You stutter when you reply, unable to look away from his hand moving on your crotch, "No, no. I- kept thinking about you."

He nods, an understating hum settles on his throat, voice as calm as ever. "That's why you kept looking at me? Wish it was me dancing with you instead of him?"

"Yeah, you... I always think about you, when I feel like this..." You can't help squirming when he applies more pressure to your clit, circling the nerve with the tip of his finger.

"Then you know it should've been me touching you like that." A whine almost escapes your throat when you hear the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

"I didn't let him touch me, though." You admit. Minho's eyebrows shoot up, wordlessly questioning you. "He was really close, but his body wasn't really... Touching mine. My back was against his chest, but that's it." You know you don't really owe Minho an explanation, but you've always felt this need to let him know he's the only one who makes you feel drunk in desire. You want him to know he shouldn't worry about competition because he doesn't have any.

When these words reach Minho's ears, his fingers push your underwear to the side, spreading your wetness through your slit. A reward. "This is all me, then?" He says, referring to your arousal. "It's all for me?"

You nod as you take deep breaths–trying to accommodate your body to the foreign feeling that is having his hands on you after wanting him for so long. You can feel shivers awakening all across your skin and you can only hope he won't tease you for it, knuckles hurting from gripping the cushion beneath you. "Yes, you know I only have eyes for you."

His focus doesn't detach from the road when he smiles, fingers swiping the wetness from your slit directly to your clit, quickening the pace. Your hips keep stuttering despite your efforts to keep them in place, he notices your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it turned to the window–even though he wasn't looking at you, you still felt the need to hide from his eyes.

"You won't be able to hide when I get you under me." His calm voice comes out as a purr, a hum vibrating on his throat as his finger's pace stays consistent. "Gonna spread you out in my bed and make you keep your eyes on me as I fuck the shyness out of you." You shut your thighs around his wrist, making him force them open and earning a slap to your inner thigh. Your head spins as you let out a groan, legs parting as far as they physically can for him, hips rising from the seat slightly when his touch finds you again. "Stop squirming." He says, tone noticeably more demanding than before.

You struggle to reply through compressed moans, "I'm sorry, I can't- 's too much."

"Too close?" He asks as your thighs start to shake, and you pray to whoever might be listening to please, please don't let him stop.

The confirmation comes out in hurried whispers. "Yeah, close, close."

"Already? So easy to please, pretty." The embarrassment tensing your muscles gets mixed with pleasure. Your eyes shut tightly, head thrown back on his head restraint, focusing on the feeling of his fingers and getting high on the sound of his voice. "Hope you can take a couple more rounds."

With that, Minho's ministrations become quicker, rougher–his middle and index finger making a mess of your arousal all over your clit, careful to not let his pace relent when you start moaning for him, thighs shuddering around his wrist.

Even though you were able to feel your orgasm slowly creeping up on you, it's intensity gave you whiplash. Minho's presence was the only thing tangible in the back of your mind as your hips bucked against his hand–mind so clouded your loud moans felt distant as your body squirmed in place, heat flowing through your skin.

The car feels like it’s reached forty degrees when you manage to get the feel of your limbs back, window beside you completely fogged by your laboured breathing. Minho's hand is still in your pussy, leisurely coating your arousal through your folds. You miss the way he smiles when he eases two fingers into you for the first time, head thrown back once again as your mouth drops open. A whine of his name makes him chuckle once again.

"Don't worry, I'm not making you come again until we get home." He says, barely above a whisper, taking a moment to watch his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. "Just wanna feel you for a bit."

You don't know how long the torture lasts until you reach Minho's place–the car ride felt entirely too short but unnecessarily long. He kept his fingers curled upwards, switching from hard, slow pushes to quick ones–leaving just his fingertips inside to slowly push them in again, massaging your cunt to quickly pulling in and out of you so fast you knew his wrist would be sore by the end of the night, but Minho didn't really seem to mind. In fact, he almost looks bored–lazily averting his gaze from the road to look your way every now again, breaking into a smirk every time he stilled his fingers buried deep inside of you when you sounded like you were having too good of a time.

When he parks, Minho nonchalantly brings his fingers, that were inside you a millisecond ago, to his mouth and starts licking them clean as he picks up his keys and phone with his free hand, then hops off the car.

Your headspace is cloudy, but you’re present enough to register him opening the door for you and taking you by the hand, leading you inside the building.

When he finally kisses you, Minho is gentle. The warmth of his covers beneath you is almost as comforting as the softness of his pouty lips carefully meeting yours–months upon months of yearning finally ceasing. Although he already made you cum, although you enjoyed all the crude things leaving his lips–this is what you were really longing for. Suddenly, whatever happened in his car just a few minutes prior is forgotten–the butterflies in your stomach soaring as you open your mouth for his tongue to make home. 

Minho cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin as his lips move against yours–the weight of his body pinning you against his mattress. His hand on your jaw helps him control the kiss as you follow his lead, soft hums of satisfaction coming from both of you the longer Minho’s tongue insists in tasting yours. You don’t know how long he kisses you, you don’t know how long your eyes stay closed. Your body feels as light as a feather when his hands start caressing your sides, lifting your dress up to your waist.

You're pure heat when Minho's hands palm your ass, kneading the skin as his kisses lower their way from your lips to your neck. You shudder under him, sighing to the feeling of him biting, then lolling his tongue over the bruise–almost like he purposefully wanted to leave a mark. Several marks. Minho easily restrains your attempts to squirm away from his mouth, relishing in your needy whines as he kisses lower down your body–smirk permanently stuck on his countenance growing wider each time your fingers, which were lazily massaging his scalp, tugged on his locks.

Minho gulps when he finally allows you to separate from him and take off your dress–his focus now entirely on your bare torso laying back down before him. His cock twitches in his pants, which suddenly feel way too tight and less appropriate to the situation at hand. He practically drools as he positions himself between your legs–both elbows planted on the bed as he gripped each side of your thighs. Minho realizes that if he has you under him, he's way too far gone to notice anything else–quiet cries and whines that sneak their way out of your lips ring loud on his ears, making him all the more eager to have you fucked out of your mind–pretty mouth constantly hanging open, unable to suppress all the sounds he yearns to hear.

A moan escapes your lips when you realize where he's leading this, but you can't help but protest, hips stuttering in his hold. "I want you inside, Min."

He hums in agreement as he slowly kisses up your right thigh, low voice muffled by your skin. "Gonna make you come on my tongue first."

"But I'm all stretched out, you already made me come back in the car-" you part your legs wider for him, inviting, trying your best to be convincing, "just want your cock, Minho. Please."

His chuckle is so adorable it almost throws you off the haze, but it’s only a second until his eyes darken again. “No, baby. I got you so wet I think I’ve earned a taste. It’s only fair."

Thankfully, the eagerness you’ve been felling for the past hour or so seems to finally catch up to Minho. Heaven knows you wish you were strong enough to watch him–pouty plump lips that usually look so adorable in your eyes now become the eighth deadly sin. Head thrown back and eyes closed, you can somehow fell the room spinning in the back of your head when the tip of Minho’s tongue meets your folds, gently tracing along your slit. You feel the goosebumps waking up along your skin, clueless hands stroking his locks.

To Minho, you’re a force of nature. You always have been. A walking magnet, clueless to the effect you had on people just by blinking your pretty lashes at them, at him. Shy but curious eyes, voice remarkbly confident and enthusiastic when you interacted with everyone else but him–an outgoing girl becoming a stuttering mess each time he walked into a room. Minho knew you would absolutely ruin him the moment he saw you. Now it’s only fair he ruined everyone else for you, too. 

It feels surreal to have you under him on the very same bed he came so many times to the thought of you, but his imagination could never top reality–you feel warm and soft on his tongue, wetness leaking out of you with every swipe of the muscle over your slit. His ministrations are featherlight against you, but as always, your reactions are what really get to Minho. Your back arches off the bed anytime he adds the smallest bit of pressure to his licking–he can feel the shivers as he runs his hands from your hips, that are constantly trying to stutter away from him, up your thighs.

Minho's own hips rut against the mattress when he finally allows his tongue inside. A loud, strangled moan leaves your lips and now it's his turn to shiver–your soft, needy cunt flutters around the muscle as he licks upwards, lolling his tongue, drinking everything you give him. His head spins as he gets drunk off of your scent, your taste, your moans–he doesn't even realize how fast his tongue has been moving inside of you until you let out a specially long whine.

Restlessness starts stirring up on your core, the intense tingling on your insides making you want to both roll your hips into Minho's mouth and squirm away from him at the same time. His grip on you was iron–veiny hands keeping your thighs spread, fingertips digging into your skin every time your legs instinctively tried to shut around him. Your mind becomes smaller and smaller as the pleasure builds up–consciousness barely there to hear the sinful sounds coming from Minho's mouth. His eyes are closed as his tongue massages your cunt, lapping up every last bit of your arousal and spreading it all over your cunt when he flattens his tongue on your slit, licking upwards to your clit. You feel your whole body tremble when he starts to circle the tip of his tongue against the bud, slowly at first, eyes now open to watch the way your body quivers to his ministrations. Splayed out over his bed, back arching off the bed constantly and grabby hands pulling into his locks, the pillow, his covers–any touch that could distract you just a bit from the alarming amount of pleasure you were whining your way through.

Minho can't help the mess–his head tilting every now and again, slowly stroking his tongue on your clit as his plush lips sucked it into his mouth. He could see the wetness dripping down your ass and pooling into the mattress–he could feel your arousal all over his lips and chin, the tip of his nose nudging your clit when his tongue snakes it's way inside you again. He started eating you out mostly with your pleasure in mind, but now as he notices your moans getting muffled by the loud sounds coming out of where you two connect, he realizes that he won't be able to go a single day without not wanting to have his face between your legs. Hell, he was so close to edging you just so he could eat you out longer–keep you bucking your hips into his face as you grew more desperate for release each time, his tongue reaching deeper inside due to the force with which you'd roll your torso towards him. But he still wants to finish the night inside you, and by the way your entire body is trembling and how loud you've been moaning, Minho reckons he has to be nice if he wants you to take another round.

So, he carefully builds up your pleasure–lips insistent around your clit as the tip of his tongue flickered the bud, finding humour on how your body tried to thrash around the bed but couldn’t do much due to his grip on your waist. Minho smiles around your cunt when your legs start shaking violently, hips attempting to raise off the bed simply because it was too much–his mouth is warm and soft, his movements so precise it startles you how quickly he took in your reactions, learning exactly what you like in no time. Either that, or he’s just Minho, and that’s just how his alluring aura manifests itself in every aspect of his life. Luring you in, hypnotizing you, locking you in his trance. A siren.

Your head rolls as further back as it can over his pillows, eyebrows furrowed as your mouth hanged open–you don’t know how loud you were moaning, you can’t tell if you were moaning at all. Your brain was mush as your orgasm thrashed through you–Minho keeping your hips in place as your limbs gain a life of their own. The only parts of your body you could feel were the ones where his touch was burning into you, numb to anything else but the man between your legs.

He coaxes you through your high, thumb stroking your skin and keeping the stimulation consistent until your body relaxed onto the bed–chest heaving with laboured breathes. Minho doesn’t look so composed himself as he kneels between your legs, taking his own shirt off before laying on top of you. His ears, neck, chest are beet red–face glistening with reminiscents of you and drowsy eyes scanning over your body, hands landing one on your waist, the other on your cheek, elbow supporting his weight on the bed.

You mindlessly lean into his touch, cupping his hand on your cheek and dragging it closer to your mouth until you were able to suck his thumb into your lips, sleepy eyes locked on his. You were growing addicted to his smirk and the darkness of his room and the pretty stars you could see through his open window–already able to tell he would haunt every single one of your dreams.

“Desperate little thing.” He coos, voice so sweet you suspect he was mocking you. He chuckles at your whine–eyebrows furrowed to express indignation, “What do you want?”

Suddenly popping his finger out of your mouth, you raise your neck off the bed in order to bite his lower lip, bringing him closer to you. When he follows, you lay your head back on the pillow and open your mouth up wide, tongue sticking out for him. Minho clicks his tongue, eyebrows raised as he looked down at you for a few seconds, smile growing wider. Then, his hand cups your jaw, holding your mouth open as his saliva drips down from his lips to your tongue. A sigh leaves you when you're finally able to taste him, relaxing your body on the bed as you swallow what he gave you. Minho watches you with a humoured, curious countenance–eyebrows raised and eyes fix on your lips when your tongue licks over them, as if you were chasing the very last trace of his flavour.

Minho didn't even process that your mouth opened again, and he doesn't process that he's already obliging–your chin tilted upwards, eager to taste him once more. The man's body seems to be moving in autopilot along with yours–both minds completely clouded, unable to form any coherent thoughts, making pure desire the only motivation to each of your actions.

You look hauntingly beautiful under him–countenance mostly darkened but your features still striking under the city lights coming from outside. You stared up at him with black, dilated pupils and eyes half open, as if you were trying to look past his consciousness and make home inside the depths of his mind, engraving the memory of tonight onto his brain for as long as you possibly could. Like you wanted him addicted.

Minho's lips clash onto yours, constant moans swallowed by one another as you desperately tried to touch more and more of each other–not a single inch forgotten. He soothes the goosebumps on you skin, hands caressing from your hips to your waist a couple times before his palms find your breasts. Minho feels dizzy when you moan his name, arching your back to seek his warmth.

Eager as always, you roll your hips against his–spread legs allowing your cunt to finally get the slightest friction from his cock. Your vision is blurry and you can't tell when you started tearing up, but the harshness with which Minho was grinding his clothed crotch against your naked cunt was the trigger for the first tear to run down your face. You were sensitive and the pleasure was overwhelming, but you still could feel your pussy fluttering around nothing, needing Minho inside.

"You're making a mess on my jeans, pretty." He mumbles against your mouth.

You struggle to breathe out, "Take them off, then."

Having sex wasn't anything new to you, but having sex with Minho feels like a completely different experience. You don't understand the headspace you're in nor are you able to dwell on what it could be–the only things you can fathom is Minho's warm body pressed up against yours and how safe and comfortable you feel. And how, when he suddenly kneels to take his jeans off, you feel so lonely and vulnerable tears flutter out of yours eyes, reaching for him with a whine of his name.

In a matter of seconds, Minho holds both your hands and comes back to his past position above you, shushing your mindless, whiny whispers with soft kisses all over your face as his thumbs caressed the skin of your hip and your cheek.

"Are you still with me, baby?" He never looked at you the way he is right now. He doesn't look confident, but in awe. Vulnerable. Like he knew this moment was a miracle and that it probably shouldn't happen again, and he, for once in his life, was allowing himself to wear this vulnerability.

You nod, eyes locked into his as you roll your hips, moaning when you feel his hard-on against you. He sighs, his underwear now being the only thing between you two, circling his hips as he asked. "Maybe we should take a break, hm?" His lips find your neck, distracting you from protesting. "Get you some water."

You barely find the strength to whisper "No, Minho, need you to fuck me. Please, I need you so bad."

You swear all the stars fall out of the sky and onto Minho's bed when you finally feel him whole. After a while of teasing you with his tip, he sinks into you with ease, both mouths hanging open in a symphony of loud moans he'd probably get complaints about.

Soft whimpers of his and your own fill the room, you feel fire lingering on each place he touches and Minho swears the universe begins and ends with each lazy, slow stroke of his hips. At this moment, he can't conceptualize the existence of anything else besides him and you. You and your constant, high moans of his name. You and your face contorted in pleasure and your needy, grabby hands. Your wet heat greedily sucking him in, trying to keep him. You and your timid gaze when he entered a room, stuttering over your words, shy smile forcing its way into your clueless lips. You, you, you.

His hands dig marks into your hips, keeping you in place as he moved above you. His thrusts were timed, consistent, and although leisured, you still bounced with each of them–his cock ripping deeper into you. Minho couldn't physically bring himself to stop kissing you–tongue roaming your open mouth, noisy kisses joining the night's soundtrack of moans and the slapping sound of his hips against your ass. 

Minho felt like he ascended closer to heaven each time you moaned his name–nails digging into his shoulder blades in your own way of claiming him. He could see the desperation in your teary eyes, endless begging leaving your wet lips and shaky legs wrapped around him in a weak attempt to keep him close. Your hips, that were once bouncing off of his now lay tired on his mattress, no longer having the strength to meet his thrusts or squirm away from them. Your lips had his spit all over them and it looked like every ounce of your morality left your conciousness with every snap of his hips. Although pretty, you weren’t nearly as gone as he pictured in the times which he fucked his hand to the thought of you–the way you lay under him right now sits very closely to his visions, but Minho is a perfectionist.

"Arch your back for me." He says, although he’s the one to actually pull your waist off the bed, “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He shoves a pillow between you and the bed and the angle instantly changes, your insides squeezing his stilled cock. Your eyes are shut tight when he whispers right by your ear, pulling your arms around his neck. “Hold on tight, pretty.”

His hold on you grew impossibly tighter as he whipped his hips against yours–thrusts so deep yet so quick that you could no longer contain the pornographic cries leaving your open mouth. Your existence narrows to nothing but open legs spreading wider for Minho to fuck into as his own narrows into being a mere tool for your pleasure–your entire senses of self were, in that moment, engulfed whole by one another. 

This amount of pleasure is so foreign to your body it completely shuts down when you try to react, utter nonsense leaving your lips when you try to let the man above you know you’d never felt like this before–no one’s ever made you feel like your soul was drifting away from you whilst simultaneously spiking all of your senses so violently, making your skin hot to the touch. You completely miss most of the words leaving his lips, laboured breathing giving away both exhaustion and pleasure.

“A little cockdumb, are you?” He says, his own voice muffled by the constant noise of his hips smacking against you. “My sheets are fucking drenched in you, baby. You take it so fucking good.” 

He's hitting your spot perfectly, the pillow helping him reach even deeper inside you. Minho's pace didn't allow you to breathe for a single second, your pussy desperately clenching around him as you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to explode–it's intensity so intimidating you start involuntarily shaking your head, legs shaking besides Minho's hips and moans getting drawn out, whiny, louder.

Your hips come back to life, stuttering messily when he presses a thumb to your clit–your hands fly to his biceps nails digging on his skin, surely to leave marks of your own.

"Come on, pretty. Gonna come all over my cock, hm? Gonna claim it?"

Claim it. Claim it. Mine, you're mine. If this was anyone else, you'd me embarrassed that that's what pushed you over the edge. But it's Lee Minho, and he just said out loud the one thing you want the most in the entire world, even if it was in a drunken haze.

Your head is numb as your body pushes through your orgasm–pleasure hits your body in violent shockwaves that leave you shuddering, not giving you a second to recover until they hit you again. You're able to tell that Minho's moans got way louder, and the thrusts of his hips now have a squelch to them. It's only after a few seconds you're able to feel the wetness all over your crotch, even reaching up to your hips and belly, due to the force of Minho's thrusts as you squirted.

You feel full, completely satisfied and overly sensitive, but Minho was never not welcome between your legs. So, you lazily drape your arms around the man's neck and pull him towards you–tip of his nose touching yours, hooded eyes fix on hooded eyes. Your mouth is still open for him, moans now quiet but still constant as his thrusts grew erratic. Minho, on the other hand, was being so loud you hoped to God his roommate wasn't over. Not just his moans, but the ferocity of his hips now combined with the wetness made a noise so loud it'd be borderline unbearable to anyone else but you two.

But you really couldn't care less, not when Minho looks like a greek god above you. Perfect eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes burning into yours, every vein on his reddened neck prevalent and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, pouty lips hanging open exposing his–in any other situation– adorable teeth, but now you just wanted him to sink them in your skin.

"So good, so good..." You mindlessly blabber, that was the most you could do for him right now.

"Is it? Yeah? You just showed me how good it feels, ah. Squirting all over my cock, fuck."

"Do I feel good?"

His head drops to your shoulder, burying his face on your neck. "Perfect. Fuck, like you were made for me. Want this pussy all for myself."

"Have it, then." You struggle through moans, "I don't want anyone else, Min."

His hand takes the pillow under your waist and throws it somewhere in the room–snaking one hand under your waist to arch you for him as the other stroke his cock only once, enough to paint your stomach and breasts in his white stripes. Minho is shuddering as he collapses above you, face finding home in your neck again. You feel him shifting over you somewhere in your sleepy state, after a while passes. Your whine in protest makes him chuckle.

"I have to clean you up, angel." You ignore the way your insides turn due to the new petname and pulls his kneeling figure towards you again.

"Stay a little longer."

"A little longer?" He whispers, looking at your lips as he lays above you.

Minho hums when you kiss him, gently cupping your chin and guiding you through it. His tongue was soft, slow and addictive–after him, you can't really picture yourself kissing anyone else.

"I'm gonna talk to your brother." He tries to play it nonchalant, but his eyes are closed and his ears turn pink as he whispers his confessions through peppered kisses across your face.

"Really?" You can't help how hopeful your whisper sounds.

"Yeah, of course." His voice suddenly changes to an annoyed tone, clicking his tongue. "Gonna have a talk with Wooseok, too. Asshole." Your chest flutters with laughter as he curses under his breath, heart beating out of your chest as he kisses your cheekbone, then your jaw, tone suddenly soft again. "Wanna make you mine."

Your eyes flutter shut for a second, an embarrassing attempt to hold back tears. "I already am, Min."

[adonisbeloveds]

Hi so I have a Rf wally request, so how about wally having a gn child reader who pushes someone in the grinder because that person was being mean to them

Scenario

Child reader: *goes to Rf Wally’s office* “hey papa guess what!”

Rf Wally: *drinking coffee* “what is it?”

Child reader: “I pushed someone in the grinder!”

Rf Wally:*Spits out his coffee after hearing that* “What!?”

Wally was checking his papers when he heard a slight creak of his door being opened, looking up from the papers he saw a small figure walking towards him with a smile on their face. The tiny figure walked around his desk to where he was sitting before tugging at his pants and smiling. "Papa! papa! guess what! guess what!" The child spoke with such excitement in their voice reminding him of someone he use to know, Wally hummed before taking a sip of his coffee "whats up kiddo?" he asked. The child slightly bounced in their place before cheerfully speaking "I pushed someone into the grinder!" The moment those few words came out of the childs mouth the man choked on his coffee before clearly his throat and looking at the kid. "Pardon? what? why? How?!" The kid just smiled before telling their story, explaining how the employee was being rude and making fun of the poor kid, and how they got fed up with the person and thought that since the person wasn't important they could just turn them into new colors! Wally sighed before picking the kid up and placing them on his lap "any other parent would be traumatized, but I guess raising a kid in this place makes them a bit different, just ask me next time got it kid?" The child just giggled and nodded, grabbing a spare piece of paper and some crayons before drawing to their hearts content.

Me walking up like I didn't leave all my requests to catch dust for months Special thanks to DODO for making the Rf wally AU and yourinternetmom for adopting the AU, I love that man anyway jingly jangly come eat your food

[i-am-vita]

A Night at Loguetown

A Bogard x FemOcReader Oneshot

+ 7,700 words Looong, I don't know what the hell happened here.

👉 My Masterlist, Oc Ghost Rose Masterlist

Fic based on my OPLA hot older guys headcanons. Just a little angsty love for the five Bogard fans out there. Shot out to those who wanted some Phantom Captain content.

Summary: 8 years ago you had to go into hiding with your little niece to protect her after the demise of your entire stranded family. During the process to claim her as your ward, you meet again with the man whose heart you broke along with yours when you ran away from the life your family had decreed for you. Warnings: Some swearing. Mention of family loss. Bittersweet, things may get angsty. Mention of drinking. Light NSFW, no smut but implicit sex. Definitely angsty ending. Expect: They have History... and not just Bogard and Reader. Lovers to Strangers to Lovers. Idiots in Love who won't talk things out. Lost Chance. Use of You, not Y/N. FemOcReader, fem pronouns. Bad english, consistent time tenses not detected.

Any other warning or expectation you detect, let me know.

Really, dear showrunners had no business hiring such a young handsome actor for Bogard. I accept no complaints.

.

8 years ago...

Poorly. You had thought of this poorly.

You've made a career in white collar robbery and piracy by planning and being prepared for every eventuality. You didn't enter a room without a full plan of action and at least three escape routes.

But all those years of pirate life went to hell the moment you heard of the ultimate demise of your entire estranged family. So when you knew of the survival of your niece and where she had been sheltered after the shipwreck, you had to make an effort not to zoom into the Loguetown Marine Base in a frenzy that would rival Kuro's during one of his bloodlust nights.

Still, you charged through the main door and into the hallways with such a pose and authority that the guards took a while to realize you weren't an Officer or even a Marine at all, despite your pristine two-piece cream suit.

Really, the pencil skirt and heels should have been a clue.

"I shall talk with the captain in charge of this base!" You demanded while looking in your pockets for the permission with the appointment when intercepted by two guards who didn't take kindly to being bossed by a random civilian woman and rudely grab your arm. "Get your paws off me!"

In an instant, you had the first guard on his knees in a painful joint lock, his twisted arm being held by your right hand, your fingers pressing certain paralyzing points on his flesh. Your left was preparing to deflect the baton of the second one when a scabbard appeared and intercepted the weapon, sending it flying with the smallest of flourishes along with the guard who ended up crashing against the wall.

Your eyes followed the length of the scabbard to the figure of a man dressed in a formal gray suit with the white coat of a high rank Marine Officer, a gray fedora obscuring the features of his face.

Suddenly you were aware of the situation you found yourself into, bursting into a Marine Base and technically attacking an officer, with absolutely no escape route or back up since you practically jumped the ship as soon as you docked.

Then, the man in the fedora raised his face and the world stopped spinning for a second.

Oh, fuck...

Because of all the Marine Bases in all the Blues, you had to storm into the one he was stationed.

"Rick?"

Bogard had heard some Marines calling for a person but it had been the feminine voice speaking with such authority that stopped him in his tracks.

He turned the corner of the hallway in time to witness a guard rudely grabbing the arm of a well dressed woman while spitting words unfitable for a respectable Marine towards a civilian, let alone a lady.

"What the..." He heard the Vice Admiral who was turning himself while you immobilized the guard.

In an instant, Bogard had advanced towards the conflict and got rid of the second guard with a flourish of his still sheathed sword.

A heavy silence followed as he heard his first name from your lips. Nobody had called him anything but his family name since he had enlisted in his youth. Since you.

Your name too escaped his mouth in disbelief. His eyes widened as they traveled up and down your figure, taking note of your polished appearance but, more shocking, your martial pose.

You were never a fighter. Even from the short time you spent together in your youth it was clear you lack the ability to put on a fight. And here you were, ten years later, having blossomed into this stunning woman capable of dealing with a fully trained man bigger than you with only your non-dominant hand. In a skirt and heels.

It's not that you had been pinning over the memory of your first love all these years. You've lived the life you chose without regrets and had your own share of lovers through the time. But it had been an emotional amount of weeks with the memories of your beloved sister and previous life haunting you even in your sleep.

And with the memories of past times, inevitably came him and the day you broke both of your hearts…

The throat clearing of his boss brought both of you out of your reverie.

"Ejem... Madam, would you be so kind as to release the Ensign." You heard the heavily accented voice of an older man in full white suit and Marine coat pointing to the guard who still remained immobilized by your left hand.

I'll be damned... You thought when recognizing Vice Admiral Garp.

You loosen the guard's arm who snatched it and tried to regain his footing while reaching for his baton. A heavy glare from Bogard was enough to freeze him in place.

"Dismissed, Ensigns. You will answer for your manners later." He commanded both guards before returning his gaze back to you.

"... Madam, is there a reason why we shouldn't proceed as protocol for this exchange?" Garp questioned looking from you to Bogard who still remained unable to take his enthralled eyes off of you.

You barely managed to withdraw your eyes from your former suitor to look at his superior when another visitor showed up.

"Excuse me, Vice Admiral Garp, isn't it? May I intercede?" Spoke an elegant gentleman coming from the opposite side of the hallway, being escorted by a couple of guards. Dressed a little over the top with a dark blue three piece suit, a short cape, top-hat and a rapier sword at his hip, the old man looked like he had just come out of a ballroom.

Of course you knew your Captain Erik better. That was his to-go outfit for almost everything not pirate-related. And now he was presenting himself with his real identity to save your sorry impulsive ass.

"Shostakovich Eriksson, from Angel’s Arts and Exports." He introduced himself with an ostentatious curtsy. "I believe my employee has a meeting with the current captain of this base regarding the custody of a certain late Captain Charles’ child." He extended a folded paper accompanied by an ornate business card. The same paper with the appointment you had forgotten in your hurry.

Bogard received the papers and scanned them while Garp looked intensely at the newcomer, like trying to figure out something about him.

"Have we met, Mr. Shostakovich?" With a little gesture of his hand, Bogard showed his superior the card with the full name and rank of the gentleman. “... Duke Shostakovich.” Garp corrected himself.

"I believe we have spoken on the Mushi from time to time..." Your Captain answered enigmatically, giving the Vice Admiral a very particular gaze.

Both assistants looked baffled at their bosses.

You had no idea Captain Erik maintained certain communication with Vice Admiral Garp from all high rank Marine Officers. He tended to avoid them like the plague. Meanwhile, Bogard was sure at that point he knew all of his boss' associates out of the Marine but that gentleman's name had never come up.

Unless it was one of his unsavory contacts only known by a code name...

His sharp gaze went from Duke Shostakovich to you wondering what kind of job you’d do for someone like him. His only clue about what had become of you after breaking your courtship was a very recycled story from your family of you going away to be an artist against their wishes and cut all ties with them… and himself.

“A nasty situation.” Garp finally spoke. “Captain Charles was an exceptional Marine. Still, we are used to losing even the best of us, but his family too?” A pregnant pause. “I’m sorry for your loss, Madam.”

“Thank you, Vice Admiral.”

“Let's put behind this little misunderstanding. We have an appointment after all.” Suggested Eriksson signaling the hallway that led to the Base Captain’s office and making a small salute by bringing a hand to his top-hat as a farewell sign.

You were about to turn around when the Vice Admiral voice called for your Captain.

“Your Grace, may I have a word in private?”

A look of panic filled your face at the prospect of being left alone with the man who once asked for your hand so many years ago.

“... Why not?” Was your Captain’s answer.

Well, fuck.

.

Garp extended the glass of whisky he had just served from the local Captain’s stash to the elegant gentleman and served himself a second.

“... Really, Erik, a Duke?” He asked finally after assessing his counterpart.

The Phantom Captain made a small shrug that did little to alter his perfect sitting pose while sipping his whisky.

“You never asked about my real identity.”

Garp sighed heavily and drank his whole whisky in a go.

From all the things he expected to uncover after Captain Charles and his family’s perish, the identity of one of his oldest associates was not in the list. While his acquaintanceship went as far as The God Valley Incident thirty years ago, when Garp teamed up with Roger and his allies to fight off the Rocks Pirates, their formal arrangement started as recently as after the execution of the King of Pirates. As a last gesture, Roger had shared with him the contact of his main informant, the elusive Phantom Captain, just in case he needed something. Since then, his exchange of information was limited to Den Den Mushi calls and the occasional meet with the mysterious masked figure.

“And why now? After all these years…”

“I've learned to go with the current when the unexpected happens. Would you rather me to deny everything and leave you suspecting with all these other dubious facts around the former Captain of this base?”

“And about your little assistant?” The Vice Admiral inquired about the pretty lass that had single handed immobilized one of their officers and had his subordinate so entranced.

“Ah, that information is not up to trading. She’s been like another daughter to me and her secrets are her own.” The threat was evident in Eriksson’s tone. Garp understood, he himself was protective of his underlings too, no matter how old and experienced they were.

“Funny thing, I was considering giving you a call as long as I was out of here. What information do you have about Captain Charles?”

“Native of somewhere in the New World. No registered relatives. Surprisingly wealthy young man. Enlisted at 21 years old under your personal tutelage. A meteoric career. Married at 26 to the eldest stepdaughter of late Admiral Thorne. Very low profile since then.” Eriksson kept enlisting the many accomplishments of his assistant’s brother-in-law. “Recently promoted to Loguetown Base… Killed a month ago during a raid at the ship that transported him and his family to his new residence. No survivors except for his only child.”

“Officially, that was an accident.” Grunted Garp tightening his hand around the glass. It had been frustrating to be asked by the upwards to let the case be archived as a shipwreck and brushed under the carpet.

“... That’s new.”

“Fresh from this morning.”

“Oh? They found out the culprit, didn’t they?”

“Not to my knowledge. What do you have?”

“Uhm… Didn’t you ever wonder about your former pupil's family name?”

“Are you calling a family feud? But no, no registry of his family.” Garp considered this new angle for a second. Marines hardly have any ties to their families once enlisted. Orphanhood being a most common occurrence. “Charles…” Understanding finally entered the Vice Admiral's mind. “No way.”

“Alleged fifth son, expelled and erased from the family records at 19 years old. Managed to steal a large amount of treasure before disappearing. What he took that was so valuable they were after him all these years and how they finally found him remains unknown.”

“Treasure or not, that would make that little girl the grandchild of…” The Phantom Captain made an affirmative nod. “No wonder they were eager to send her somewhere hidden and secure.”

“To send her…”

“The child was sent to a secure location when it was apparent the claiming process by her aunt was going to take a longer time than anticipated.” Eriksson’s left eye twitched in annoyance at not having been privy to that knowledge.

Like you would’ve said: well, fuck.

.

The insistent tic of a nearby clock marked the pass of seconds since both older men had entered the small office an overeager Captain had borrowed, leaving their younger underlings at the small and empty waiting room.

Bogard’s gaze almost hadn't left your figure since the moment he caught sight of you, feeling like a caress in its intensity, leaving you flustered like that young debutante in his first ball that you were once.

"You look good." His words broke the heavy silence, finally addressing you for the first time in ten years.

"Thank you…” You found the courage to take your attention off the clock and back to your former beau. Time had certainly suited him turning that young promising officer barely out of teenaging that you were so enamored with in your late teens into this earnest and dashing man. “... I like your hat."

An unamused chuckle followed your remark. Bogard diverted his face to the side while taking a step towards you before returning his intense dark gaze to you again.

“... Are pleasantries all that’s left of us?”

Bogard had thought himself prepared to face you. After the death of his dear friend Charles with his wife and in-laws, it was obvious there was only one person to take care of their surviving child and the family's inheritance. With Vice Admiral Garp in charge of the investigation, it was inevitable that your paths cross again.

But a week passed, and then two. A solicitor from a private firm assured them you were on your way. More weeks… And just on his last day ashore, you stormed into the Loguetown Base, assaulting the first guards who dared to stop you from your meeting, looking all proper and polished with a Duke as your benefactor.

He was prepared to face the girl that had rejected his hand, he was not ready for the stunning woman that arrived instead.

“I didn’t believe there was an us left after...”

“After you ended it all?” The accusing tone was evident in his low voice, something that was expected. What you didn’t expect was the pang of longing in your heart when another step brought him closer to you, enough that, if you dared to uncross your arms, you could raise your hand to touch his clean shaven jaw and discover if it felt as soft as it looked.

“I understand if you’re still angry at me, but this is hardly the time…”

“There hasn’t been a time in ten years.” He spat coldly. “I looked for you. I asked and asked again but nobody would tell me a damn thing. Sometimes I wondered if you were still alive…”

Those first years after your departure were a torture to Bogard. Wondering where he went wrong for you to reject him and leave so suddenly. What befalled to you? Where you safe? Did you even make it to where you were supposed to?

“Because nobody knew.” You fought to keep your voice low in vain. “I didn’t want to be found. I didn’t want anything to do with that life anymore.” It had taken you years to finally dare to contact your sister, a fact she had sworn to keep a secret. Still, not even she would have been capable of pinpointing your location.

“... Was the prospect of marrying me so daunting?” Were his affections not enough for you? He knew his heritage was not nearly as much as your family may have wanted but his promising career and friendship with your brother-in-law were considered adequate enough when he asked for their permission to court you.

“It wasn’t. That’s what scared me the most. You were ready to reject the Vice Admiral’s promotion to stay with me and I was suffocating at the idea of a life like my mother and my sister.”

There it was, you’ve finally said it out. You both had your own dreams and ambitions before meeting each other, how were you so ready to let it all go wasted after mere months together?

“You were my first love, you still are the only man I’ve ever loved…”

You knew you never loved Shanks as more than the best of friends even if your on and off relationship had been the longest of all; Kuro had been a lie, a master manipulator that knew how to twist your affections and the memory of your first love to his interests; Buggy was a pretty eyes nuisance, it was just one time and you were wasted drunk after dumping Kuro. But Bogard? You may have been just a teen but your regard towards him was still one yet to be surpassed, and it was precisely its intensity that scared you off.

To hear that confession from your lips after so many years was like a balm to Bogard’s heart. His hand raised almost on its own volition towards your face, his fingers barely grazing your cheek when your next words halted his movement.

"... but we were too young.” You added in a defeated tone. “We knew very little of each other when we were together all those years ago and now… it’s just too late. We have our lives. I'll go with my niece soon and you to your next commission. If we leave it this way we may remember the good of those days as happy as they were instead of the tragedy that brought us today.”

Bogard wanted to punch himself for his idiocy. Here you were, dealing with the sudden demise of your family, changing your entire life that you had made for yourself to take care of an orphan child you barely knew. And here he was demanding and complaining for his ten year old unresolved feelings towards you like the sulking teenager he once was.

An apology was already forming on his lips when the office door finally opened letting out Garp and Eriksson who regarded their younger assistants with equal looks of bewilderment at their closeness.

You backed away to a proper distance, knowing that whatever time life may have offered you with your old flame was gone.

“Farewell, Lieutenant.” You made polite curtsy like those you were taught in your youth.

“Madam…”

Bogard brought your hand gallantry towards his lips in a goodbye kiss. His dark eyes never leaving yours. You let out a small gasp, soft red lips slightly opened like begging for a proper kiss akin to the one he couldn’t give you the first time you went away from him.

Sad eyes followed the figure of the Vice Admiral Second while both Marines walked away into the hallway.

“So… that was The Guy.” Eriksson murmured in a teasing tone. You could feel the blush taking over your cheeks. It had been years since you shared the story of your first love at a drinks night with your crew. You didn’t think he would remember.

At that moment, the current Captain of the base called you into his office to start the process you were called upon.

“So… that was The Lass.” Garp murmured to his second. Bogard cleared his throat uncomfortably, not letting his mask of stoicism drop from his face.

How could Garp forget all those years ago when the best of his young former cadets, freshly promoted to Petty Officer and ready to be permanently assigned to his ship, almost left everything for the hand of a pretty lass? A pretty lass that displayed a little more common sense by rejecting the proposal and returning his prize pupil to his original ambitions.

Garp knew it had been a bitter pill but the life of a Marine rarely left time for personal attachments and romance. Most officers ended up having few contact with their families and significant others until the relationships cooled down into mere acquaintanceships.

Eriksson's little assistant had made the right call and for that Garp respected her. Enough to make a small concession for a day, even if it came years in the after.

“All is in order to set sail with the first tide in the morning.” The Vice Admiral commented after several minutes of silence while the pair exited the base, heading to the docks.

“Aye, sir. All permits have been signed.”

“Good, good. Let’s take the rest of the day off.”

“Sir?”

“Life's too short to not enjoy a nice free evening when it shows up so unexpectedly.” The older man gave his younger companion a significant look. “I may look for a nice place to dine, call upon some acquaintances if they’re still around. See you on the morrow, my lad.” Garp gave a friendly path over his collaborator's shoulder and parted away leaving a very astonished Bogard.

.

Bureaucracy was the worst.

Paperwork filling, walking from office to office, and explaining time and time again why it had taken you a month to arrive at Loguetown to fulfill your new responsibility as the only direct heir of your family and ward of your niece.

“You try to cross from the other fucking side of the Grand Line in less than a month…” You would think bitterly.

“Do not mistake the tardiness of my First Assistant as apathy toward her duty.” The Duke would supply, detecting the signs of stress over the fidgety of your fingers. “My dukedom is not around the next island and the Grand Line is not smooth sailing on the best of days.”

The presence of the Duke and the lies of your parents over your disappearance had worked well on your behalf. The fact your sister kept the carefully edited letters you sent her from time to time over the years and your personal Den Den Mushi contact helped too. That’s how the family lawyer had found you.

You were yet to be taken with your niece. They won’t even tell you where she was and that was the worst. Was she injured? Scared? Was somebody with her or did they keep her alone in some hide room for her own sake?

“All papers are in order…” The Marine Lawyer finally declared to you and the solicitor from the family that had taken your niece, a kind lamb-look-alike gentleman that introduced himself as Mr. Merry. “Miss Thorne may lay claim over the child as her legal tutor at any moment from now.”

“Excellent.” Claimed happily Mr. Merry offering to shake your hand. “I'm so glad this matter was finally settled. I don’t know how many more days I would be allowed to wait at Loguetown for the legal procedures.”

“And I deeply apologize for the delay, Mr. Merry. It has not been the easiest of transitions.” You said to the lamb-man.

“Of course, and I am deeply sorry for your loss, Madam. Your sister and her family were greatly appreciated by my employers and rest assured you and your niece are welcome as many times as you wish at their state. Their daughter, Miss Kaya, would be delighted to have her dear friend close.”

It relieved you to know that your niece was well cared for among family friends and arranged with Mr. Merry to set sail to Syrup Village in your respective ships the next day after brunch.

.

The sun was low in the sky when you and Eriksson finally walked out of the Base. The weary sight of you gaining a concerned look from your Captain.

You were one of his best assets on the field, steady and fast when retrieving any information he may be after, your knowledge and culture toward appraising any of his retrieved pieces of art and treasures remarkable, your leading as his First Officer for the last years outstanding, but your patience towards more polite intercourses runs thin. Added the emotional turmoil of the last month and your recent encounter with whom he assumed was your first love… He knew you were ready to snap.

“What was all that with the Vice Admiral?” You asked suddenly.

“Dunno. What was all that with the Vice Admiral’s handsome subordinate?” A small smile finally appeared on your lips at your Captain Erik’s antics. “Where do you think all those assignments to acquire intel from Marine Bases came from?”

“...  You've got to be kidding me.”

Would there ever be a day when the Phantom Captain didn’t leave you stunned with a random fact about his mysterious acquaintanceships?

An hour later, you were still munching the new information about Vice Admiral Garp and Captain Erik’s association. Does that mean Bogard would be privy to the same information? Would his superior share the identity of the Phantom Captain with him? He looked as surprised as you at Garp’s assessment of the Duke when he introduced himself. Would Bogard judge the fact you ran away from your engagement to end up becoming the same thing he fought against? That you were the Ghost Rose?

“Stop, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears. If dad thought it acceptable to share his identity with the Vice Admiral it means he’s legit and won’t snitch on him.” The soft voice of Raoul tried to serene your thoughts.

“For once, it’s not the well being of the Captain that concerns our dear rose, is it?” Added Carlotta between sips of her pink cocktail.

“Ohhh, more like some tall, noir and handsome Lieutenant in a fedora.” Purred Meg giving you a nudge.

You drank your glass of sweet red wine in a go to have something to blame for the subtle blush on your cheeks. After you came back from your appointment at the Marine Base, your crew decided a farewell night of drinks was due. It had been during one of your first bonding over drinks night that you had shared the story of your first love and how you came to be where you were with them. You couldn’t believe they still remembered but that’s what you get when you deal with a crew who thrive in collecting intel from all the seas.

“Hey, if you need the night to sort things out, we won't hold it against you. I know these past weeks haven’t been easy.” Murmured Carlotta, giving your hand a friendly grip.

Your crew knew that while you loved them to death, you were also a person who valued more alone time when something plagued your thoughts.

That’s how you found yourself wandering the streets of the city of your youth, letting your feet guide you wherever they desire.

From your vantage point on a stone bridge, you could sight The Angel of Music at port, captain Erik’s favorite vessel, where you had been sailing for the past years.

It was ironic that, from all the crews sailing the seas, you ended working for an extravagant Duke posing as a Pirate Captain.

“Nobility was suffocating me. I could no longer live among the fake and lies of the World Government so I decided to run away to discover the secrets of the world.” Your captain had shared with you when you asked him why he had chosen you as a protegee among the Red Hair Pirates. “Your Redhaired boyfriend was raised in this Pirate World and has all the intention of living and dying in it. We had a very different upbringing. Life has a way of finding us and pushing us back where we come from, one way or another. So we, upper runaways, should stick together. We have better odds to face the comeback side by side.”

How forewarning have been the Duke’s words. Your old life had indeed found you and dragged you back where you started.

Your eyes catched the sight of the Marine Vessel captained by Vice Admiral Garp. Small figures in white running up and down, ensuring their evening chores, preparing to depart at first light in the morning and, hopefully, with it the memory of your encounter with your first love.

You turned from the view of the port and kept walking the polished and well kept streets of Loguetown, lost in your head among memories and ghosts of the past but sure of the certainty of your decision. You’ll go the next day to meet with Mr. Merry’s employers who had taken your niece temporarily under their wing. Whether she wants to go living with you to your birth town or both stay in Syrup Village with her friend, your life would change irrevocably. Again.

You found the square following the melody of string instruments. More like a hidden corner between the tall elegant buildings. A little cafe spreaded its product’s scent on the air along with the bread, cheese and spices of the adjacent diner. A few young Marine cadets and civilians occupied tables and benches, enjoying the still warm weather of the late afternoon and the ocean view.

A small band at the corner played soft tunes to which some couples danced at the center of the square.

You love dancing. It was the only joy you found among the insipid upper class you were dragged to after the second marriage of your mother in your infancy. You wanted your little town by the sea back, the seasonal festivals full of lively music and food, the narrow shabby streets with intimate corners such as this one…

You were brought out of your reminiscence by the silent approach of the same gentleman that plagued your thoughts earlier. His stoic countenance softened by the smallest of smiles while his eyes roamed your figure now free of your previous formal wear and encased in a fitting black lace dress.

After your exchange of words that morning, Bogard had thought you gone for good again. Dread filling him at his inability to express the longing for you in his heart. So many years of putting on a facade of soldierly professionalism had taken its toll and it had been tough to let himself be vulnerable with another again. He had gone defensive over your candor at addressing your past courtship and inexperience in dealing with the fervor of your affection toward one another.

The dismissal of his superior for the rest of the day gave him hope to set things right between you. He knew what the bureaucratic processes entailed so he was left with time to seek one of his favorite places for the very few occasions when he had had a free evening in the city and freshen himself up, but he couldn’t resist calling upon some favors to obtain some information about this Duke Shostakovich.

There was something about all that earlier interaction that wouldn’t let him be.

Hours later, he hadn’t come with anything that seemed dubious enough. Duke Shostakovich had had a clean business since he had claimed his title and current lands; his islands were a safe haven in the Grand Line for both his subjects and refugees. Nobody had dared to fight his territories, some islands near him even asked for his protection. If it wasn't for his philanthropic image and lack of expansionist ambition, he could be considered an equal to the Emperors of the New World… And have you been working for him all these years? Doing what exactly?

The sun was already set near the horizon when he was informed through a mutual at the Base that the procedures had finished more than an hour ago and the Duke and his assistant had left.

Bogard cursed his researcher nature for taking so much of his time. In his haste to depart to find you, he left behind his white coat and suit jacket. He was about to go back upstairs for them when a vision of a beauty in a black lace dress crossed his sight.

It was not the first time in the past ten years that he let himself be swayed away by the image of a woman reminiscent of yourself. He had to look twice to ensure that it was indeed you walking in the small square near the inn, regarding the dancing couples with longing.

Years of training made Bogard’s steps almost soundless. He was about to clear his throat to call for your attention when a sudden stiffness took over your back and you turned around. Your left hand moved unconsciously to your thigh where your trusted blades laid sheathed under the fabric of your short dress.

Your eyes danced over the silent approaching figure of the Vice Admiral’s Second. His coat and jacket nowhere to be seen, the cuffs of his shirt rolled over his toned forearms, the gray waistcoat accentuating his lean figure previously hidden by the burlines of his coats.

“Am I under any suspicion to merit this silent approach, Lieutenant?”

“It depends. Have you engaged in suspicious activities recently, madam?” The light jest brought a smile to both former lovers. Oh, if only he knew. “I happen to have a room in this inn.”

“Do you happen to spend many nights at inns?”

“Being in close quarters at sea for weeks can get… tiring. A good night ashore makes wonders.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You smiled at the memory of your first months at sea. How that first sensation of liberty turned into dread pretty soon. “I was ready to jump overboard and swim to port the first time we spotted land after three weeks at sea.”

It wasn’t the first time that something in your demeanor was off for someone presumably invested in the arts world, starting with your fighting display from earlier. Bogard wasn’t the most connoisseur of the arts trade but something didn’t match...

“You are thinking too loud.”

“May you elaborate, madam?”

“You have that same frown from the first time we met and I asked you to help me hide from my brother-in-law and whoever of his friends he was set to pair me with.” Bogard chuckled at the memory.

By request of your mother, poor Charles was left with the responsibility of introducing you to his most eligible acquaintances during your debut. Bogard already knew of you, having been asked by his friend to dance with you to get rid of his meddling mother-in-law. He didn’t expect to find a kindred spirit in his discomfort of upper social gatherings. Time flew by dancing and conversing with you.

Like that first night, Bogard extended a hand to you in a silent request for a dance. You gave him your own hand in return and let him guide you to the center of the square where other couples danced at the rhythm of the band’s instruments while a female voice sang about a night of romance in a far away city. He followed the familiar steps of the square pattern with ease and grace.

“You haven’t forgotten.”

“What kind of swordsman would I be if I didn’t have a perfect stance and footing.” He repeated his words from that first time you danced when you expressed your surprise over his skilled steps. “About earlier today…” He added after more seconds of swaying. He had a second chance that day to make it right with you. “Please, forgive me.”

“After how I ended everything, I should be the one asking for your forgiveness…”

“No, you were right in walking away from it all. We were too young and I asked too much from you too soon.”

“Let’s not lean on it, we are not those children anymore.”

“Indeed…”

You were right to point out how little you really knew about each other. He was so set in enamored you and made you his that he failed to assess your wishes for the future. While he could recognize and accept the infatuation of his younger self as immature in nature, the memory of your past romance was mixing with the current feelings of a full grown man towards a woman whose beauty and mysterious allure enchanted him.

His hand on your waist tightened until pressing your bodies closer in a sensual move that had nothing to do with those he’d attempted when dancing with you in your youth. Your left temple laid gently against his smooth cheek thanks to the added height of your heels. If he moved slightly, he could taste your lips with his and determine if they were as sweet as he remembered…

His intent was stopped by your retreating body while your head denied his advance.

“Nothing has changed from this morning, Rick. We are still set for different paths tomorrow.”

“There’s still tonight.”

Bogard drew you back to him and the soft sway of your bodies at the slow rhythm of the string instruments. Your traitor body eager for his touch, warmth filling your belly at the prospect… Would it be that bad to let yourself get a taste of what could have been?

“What then, Lieutenant?”

“May I invite you a drink, madam?”

A drink turned to full dine at one of the small tables at the terrace, among longing gazes and soft hands touches, sharing under the candlelights and between sips of wine those parts of your lives safe enough to not break the illusion of normalcy that you wished to enjoy if only for the short time you had…

You didn't mean to stay the whole night in Bogard’s bed, but your body refused to part from his warmth, your face hidden in his neck, the scent of his aftershave still lingering on his skin, his fingertips tracing imaginary lines over your naked back and shoulders leaving delicious shivers.

The first time you were set to retire from his room, but his thoughtful care at cleaning you and ensuring your comfort after your joining made you lure him against you again, and then more until exhaustion finally took over, letting yourself be drawn first to a light slumber and finally pass out in his arms.

.

Bogard woke up first after some hours of rest, his body used to rising before dawn after years of life at sea and setting sail with the first light. Reluctantly, he abandoned the softness of your body under the sheets to retrieve both of your clothes from the spots where they have been left behind during the night.

His foot made contact with a cold metal and he remembered the satchel of rose carved blades tied to your left thigh he had uncovered after removing your dress, the carvings combining with those of the rings that adorned both of your middle fingers. A small sight of panic had seized your eyes before he knelt and his skilled fingers got rid of the offending garment to continue his survey of your skin with his lips.

Now his inquiring mind insisted on his suspicions from the day before but why couldn’t there be a simple and innocent explanation? Yes, you worked for a noble dedicated to the arts and philanthropy for years, a Duke whose lands were located in one of the most dangerous regions of the seas. The Grand Line was unforgiving and a death sentence to those who didn’t prepare to deal with its hazards. You had lived in it, probably sailed it regularly as commissioner of your boss’ exports, of course you had hardened and developed fighting abilities to survive…

A soft slide of sheets brought him out of his thoughts to retrieve your possessions and leave them at the feet of the mattress. Your still sleeping form getting restless without his presence beside you.

He continued getting dressed, the Marine in him insistent in departing towards his duty, the man already yearning for your soft skin and the intoxicating flowery scent of your hair but he wanted to respect your decision of letting it be. In the past, he had overseen your wishes, took for granted that your mutual affection was enough to start a life together at the expense of both your dreams and ambitions.

Now he knew better and pondered if with the years he would have gotten restless or resentful toward renouncing Garp’s promotion and be stationed somewhere safe and have a family with you, like his friend Charles had done with his own.

Even when his body burned for you, more now that he had got the opportunity to have you, he could not feel other than grateful for you taking the decision for both to go live your own separate lives all those years ago but… what about now? You had taken the decision to come back from your life to care for your niece and start anew somewhere safe.

Would you be willing to have him in your life again?

Bogard rejected the thought as soon as it formed. What kind of companion would he be to you or even a father figure to your child? Always absent sailing the seas with the constant threat of losing his life in the line of duty. You had already lost a father and a stepfather like that.

No, you were right from the beginning. It was better for you two to go your own separate ways…

You were pulled out of your slumber by the subtle sounds of movement and fabric, your mind too trained to be alert to keep you in sleep anymore even if it recognized the safe space you were in with your companion for the night. Among the shadows of the predawn, you recognized the male figure of your lover getting dressed, the muscles of his back moving enticingly while he put on his white shirt and the rest of his formal wear.

Knowing the farewell was upon you, you rise from the bed and put on your dress, a sudden need to be covered to face Bogard for a last time. You approached silently and touched his shoulder gently, his lack of a sudden reaction indicative of his awareness of you.

“Let me.” You signaled the hastily made knot of his tie and helped him tidy it. His coats and hat remained at the table next to the door, ready to be taken. You couldn’t help taking the gray fedora to place it on his head, your fingers caressing the line of his short hair, down to his forehead, over his elegant nose and lips…

Bogard pulled you towards him for that last kiss he regretted not giving you before. His mouth eager and passionate while his hands roamed the skin of your back still free of the zipper of your dress. Your own hands wandered over his jaw and clothed shoulders, fighting not to tear off the fabric to feel again his warm skin under your fingers.

His tongue nudged gently your lips to deepen the kiss and yours answered in equal fervor. Both trying to convey with your bodies the yearning for a life that was no longer available to you. His eager lips drift down your neck to murmured sweet endearment in your ear between kisses.

“Mia cara rosa, I…”

“No, please, don’t say it.” If you heard him say it out loud you may have broken right there.

He acquiesced and finally pulled away from your embrace. You’ll remember everything happening very quickly from there. You helping him put on his gray coat, white Marine overcoat folded on his arm. You opening the door, Bogard pulling you in for another kiss, you drawing him in for one more… And then he was gone.

You rested your forehead on the dry wood of the closed door, letting out a small whimper and the tears you didn’t dare to spill in the presence of your love for fear of making him doubt your resolve of going separate ways again but…

Would you dare? You wondered while getting properly dressed yourself.

To share with him your true identity as the Ghost Rose, open up about your recent past, the things you have done, even against the World Government and the Marine.

As Garp’s subordinate, would his sense of order and justice be as flexible to accept you in his life? Or would he ask for no explanation and look the other way around to every suspicious detail of your life, letting the secrets accumulate until you drown each other in distrust?

You walked back to your Captain’s ship, silently and slowly, the heels of your shoes the only source of sound in the dark streets before dawn, unsure if in fear or anticipation of finding Bogard waiting for you after all.

The view of the docks greeted you finally, the first lights of the sun coloring the sky in bright pinks while a Marine vessel set sail to the horizon.

You couldn’t help yourself. You ran towards the space Vice Admiral’s ship occupied minutes ago and to the edge where the waves crashed against the concrete, watching the sea taking your love away the same way he saw you go all those years ago... A hand found a place on your shoulder giving it a friendly grip, you turned lighty to see your Captain Erik comforting smile.

Yes, life had dragged you back where you started, but you had people at your side to face the comeback.

.

.

.

I'm not crying, you are...

Moots and interested people I remember: @fanaticsnail @jintaka-hane @cinnbar-bun @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @holylanguagesbatman @triangularz

[sanjisblackasswife]

Monster Trio with a Black Girlfriend Headcanons (NSFW-ish)

A/N: this is like so long…like..wtf..

Luffy

our Brazilian King here would be the most fun to be with ngl. Being in a relationship with him is no different than being his friend really. The only difference is being a bit more touchy and protective.

He literally loves everything about you from your hair, shape, and just who you are as a person

He loves giving you his hat btw. Especially when you show off your natural hair

Speaking of natural hair…

Probably one of the funniest things that has happened in your relationship is when you take out your braids for the first time.

Ok picture this: Nami just announced it will be getting colder in the next few days as y’all set sail and it’s about that time you want to take out your braids and be natural while it’s cold.

So, You’re in your room as everyone is minding their business and Luffy barges tf in looking for you if you wanted to play tag.

Mf loses his mind seeing the braiding hair all over the place pls

“Y/N YOURE BALDINGGGGGG!!???”

“What? NO I AINT BALDING ITS FAKE HAIR!”

Pls calm this man down he is running all over the ship looking for Chopper

After a good kick from Sanji and Nami you drag him back to your room with your hair now half braided and half a fro to explain to Luffy that you’re not losing hair or balding it’s just fake extensions.

He’s still lost but he’s a good sport about it.

He actually sees your real hair for the first time, it was pretty short when you first met him but you stayed in braids for so long you managed to get a lot of new growth.

Luffy has sparkles in his eyes seeing how pretty and healthy it is(not in a weird way but seriously whether u had a TWA or long curly hair it was all pretty to him)

He also loves your thighs heh

Before you two dated Luffy was already close with you in friendship and very touchy too.

There have been many times you have just been chilling on the ship with Robin and Luffy comes in, put his hat on your head, and takes a quick nap on your lap.

You have gotten ALOT of spit in between your thighs due to this

Don’t worry he also makes a mess of your thighs when y’all are in bed together

Ok lemme put some angst:

We all know OP isn’t afraid to tackle issues like human trafficking and even racism so imagine you and Luffy are in a pretty bad town and encounter some rude racist mfs.

So you and Luffy are grabbing a bite to eat when two idiots in the restaurant come barging in demanding drinks.

The waitress tells them they’ll have to sit at a table but they seen you and Luffy sit at a booth and pointed

“Why don’t you get those two to give up their seats?…the boy and…that person…people like her don’t deserve to even sit in an establishment like this.” And the man had his thumb pointed back towards you.

His tone was so disgusted and to further insult he made his statement known LOUDLY that a girl like you shouldn’t be in a place like this.

“Excuse you?” You muttered looking at the two men in front of you and Luffy.

Luffy wasn’t dumb, he only found out recently after you both started dating the heavy racism people tend to have towards black people which caused Luffy to be a bit more over protective over you.

. Luffy did sit and watch the men’s movements and words, because he knew you could defend yourself, however racist idiots always managed to take it too far and then your sweet boyfriend jumps to action.

“What do you mean ‘a girl like me!?’”

“Do i have to spell it out for you?! YOU’RE A N—“

Immediate knock out.

Broken noses, ribs, you name it Luffy went tf off on them racist jackasses

Your hand barely touched your weapon before Luffy punched the daylights out of said man.

It was actually kind of hot because his hat was covering his eyes.

“Idiots.” Luffy grumbled walking out the restaurant . He took your hand and a piece of meat in the other hand mumbling something about them being bastards.

Long story short after Luffy tossed the men up and down the street so well you ended up giving him the OL sloppy toppy as a thank you that night.

Speaking of sloppy toppy let’s get into the NSFW part of your relationship:3

First off he has seen plenty of naked women. But yours is just better

He don’t know if it’s your shape not being the same as other girls or your skin or just the way you smell but he enjoys staring at your naked body and bending it im crazy positions as if you were made of rubber too during sex

You’re always more sore after one round of sex with him rather than actually fighting marines Sksjsksks

You of course initiated sex with Luffy first after a few months of dating and you were the one to take his virginity (he took yours as well). He was kinda awkward about it though because stuff like that wasn’t something he cared to do.

However, you both got into the oral sex part and goodness he fell in love with you after that.

Luffy has a huge oral fixation so he doesn’t mind going down on you

He actually likes it more than screwing you im sorryejsjhsjdsk

Not that it doesn’t feel good being inside you

Poor boy started crying and moaning so loudly cuming inside you for the first time

It’s just you have a very interesting and addictive taste

His words not mine

He also really likes staring at your pussy Abseiskjdhdj NO JUST HEAR ME THOUGH—

Like when he is eating you out sometimes he just stares at how his tongue is rolling and lapping up your clit he forgets that you probably came at least 2 times :((((

It’s just so nice to look at to him especially if you have a fatter ….cat.

Loves burying his face in your neck pls.

You smell like shea butter and cinnamon the man is so addicted to your smell.

I feel like Luffy doesn’t have a favorite body part your thighs

But he loves rubbing his cock between your thighs as you both sleep .

Literally they’re so soft and warm especially after taking a bath.

Speaking of baths you managed to get him to take more baths

ONLY IF you take one with him.

Usually ends with him screwing you in the tub and y’all get more dirty than clean sksjsjsjs

All in all he loves you sm

Sanji

This man deserved the best head ever omg.

Luckily he has you and your beautiful lips<3

Ngl Sanji is the type of dude to call you his “Black Queen” IM SO SORTEUEKDJSJ

Literally any corny black girl “compliment he can think of he’d say it to you.

“Y/NNNNN MY BEAUTIFUL EBONY PRINCESS I MADE YOU SOME TEA!”

:(….hes trying.

None the less you being his first official girlfriend actually was more work than you thought.

Yes he’s very charming, sweet, honest, giving etcetc but his jealousy sometimes wears you out.

Anytime you two go out together and another man drools—let alone comments your looks Sanji’s already lifting his foot .

He didn’t believe you actually liked him back at first :(((((

Poor baby, he has trust issues. Pls give him all your attention.

It doesn’t take long though for him to accept you actually do love him just as much (if not more) as he loves you.

Said “I love you” on the first date

Threw you off completely, but it was so sweet and quick so you said it back.

A few of your love languages with each other is most definitely quality time and acts of service.

When there is an off day with the crew you and Sanji spend the day cooking meals you grew up with

I.E. whether it’s from your culture (like Nigerian food) OORRR simple soul food baby he is ganna FLIP. Especially if you cook it for him to try!

“Okay so this is Mac and cheese, fried chicken, greens, & corn bread. I didn’t make a whole lot because I wasn’t sure—Sanji?”

His whole world is rocked.

The seasonings, the flavor, the texture, everything that you just cooked was something he will put on his “new favorite food list”

“PRINCESS THIS IS SO DELICIOUS I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU COOK SO WELL!”

He asked to marry you.

He ask to marry you at least once a day

That’s actually how y’all started dating heheh

When he first met you, you were actually intimidating to him but not in a bad way SKSJSJS

He still fawned and drooled over you, but you nearly thought he didn’t find you attractive because even when you joined his heart eyes was still on Nami more than you.

Even after Robin joined after you he seemed to stir his attention to the two girls more than you.

Granted you felt like it was probably because you weren’t his type, you didn’t have those girl’s shape(for example if you’re pear shaped) your hair wasn’t like theirs, and you were a bit more of a tomboy than anything so it made you feel a bit insecure.

Or maybe the mf didn’t like black girls who knows KSHSHSJS

Complete opposite tho this man is a whore for black women

It only annoyed you because somehow you’ve grown a crush on the idiot.

However all those things were the reason why Sanji felt so intimidated + you’re incredibly strong willed and ain’t afraid to speak your mind and that’s what made you so much more attractive to him than another other woman he met.

And you do so one night while Sanji cleans up the kitchen.

You knew this was a bad idea, a bit cringe, and out of character but the curiosity was eating at you and you knew if you didn’t ask right then and there you may as well just get over your crush with him; “How come you don’t like me?” You said without a care in the world leaning on the door frame arms crossed pouting, Sanji recognized your voice and felt his soul drop a little hearing your crazy question.

“Don’t… Like …you?”

“You heard me. It’s not like I’m jealous or anything (you were) but…I don’t know it seems like when I want to hang out with you, you seem to be more interested in Robin or Nami to be around…I know I don’t wear dresses a lot or skirts…and I’m a bit rough around the edges but …as your crew mate…AND FRIEND…I…um….I…”

You didn’t even hear Sanji approach you so closely as your tangent was going on with your eyes not meeting his. He felt so bad making YOU feel bad.

He grabbed your hand rubbing the palm of it with his thumb.

“I’m…im so sorry, Princess i—I um…”

Que the dramatic music

“I AM SO SORRY M’LADY! YOU DESERVE TO BE TREATED LIKE THE QUEEN YOU ARE I CANT BELIEVE I MADE YOU FEEL SO ABANDONED BY YOUR PRINCE! PLEASE FORGIVE ME—MATTER OF FACT NO DONT FORGIVE ME I DONT DESERVE IT!”

“Sanji..”

“I PROMISE TO NEVER HURT YOU AGAIN—“

“Sanji…”

“I’LL DO YOUR LAUNDRY, COOK ALL YOUR FAVORITE MEALS, ANYTHING TO—“

You actually found it amusing seeing how much of a drama queen he was asking for you not to forgive him, and you’re a big softie for him so to shut him up you grabbed him by his nape and kissed him.

His lips were so soft omg

“Marry me.”

“HUH?!”

And that’s how I met your mother

Ok we finna get spicy over here

Sanji is a boob man. We know this. And because of this he loves seeing your boobs ALOT.

“They’re like chocolate kisses.”

You nearly started crying from laughter when you let Sanji fondle your chest.

“Do not say that again will slap you—AH!”

Too late Sanji popped a whole titty in his mouth.

Ngl after a few months of dating and gaining each others trust he started to become a bit OOC.

Meaning….in the bed.

At first he’d ask you repeatedly if you felt good having sex with him, but now that he knows your body…well..

“R-Right right there San—-JI YES!”

“I know baby I know..”

Tf this boldness come from

Ok so you took his virginity too. It was just a Process because Sanji kept bleeding on you.

Had to use a blindfold on him which really had him cuming in seconds.

He sometimes moans in French.

Maam…

He moans in French in your ear and you slowly grind on his cock

“S-SA—-“

“Tu te sens si bien sur ma bite”

HOHOOO I GATTA MAKE A SHORT DRABBLE OF THIS

You find his French accent so sexy

Cocky bastard knows it too so if you are acting like a bit of a brat he whispers in your ear some of the dirtiest things he wants to do to your body in French

You don’t even know what he’s saying it just sounds hot KabsjsKSBSKS

Sanji most definitely loves to finger you.

Great past time when you both are alone and you wear a short dress or skirt

Your pussy>>>>>>>>>>>>life is his whole mentality being with you in bed.

When it’s your hair wash day Sanji always invites himself to help you, but it always starts off with him helping washing your hair, then once he rises it he begins kissing your shoulder, then your spine and then next thing you know he lifting your pretty brown thigh on his shoulder kissing and eating your pussy under the hot shower head <3

He keeps those days marked on his calendar SKSJSJ

Zoro

I told y’all he wasn’t racist

Mf is a simp for black and Latina women too he just won’t admit it fr.

This mf here..

He mf adores and can’t stand you all at the same time

Seriously your little smart remarks is ganna be the death of him.

Zoro actually loves a feisty/strong woman. He’s usually around the girly girl types plenty but seeing a woman that isn’t afraid of fighting grown men 10x her size is what led Zoro to pursue you

However he didn’t know he had a crush on you you were the one to get it out of him💀💀

“Why don’t you admit you like me already? We could have been dating like…a week after I joined y’all.”

“What?! I don’t— !”

“You’re literally cuddling me, Zo…”

When you first joined shortly before Chopper you both automatically had a love/hate relationship.

You were a gunslinger and he was a swordsman there were plenty of debates on which was better

“At least I can still fight if I run out of bullets..”

“At LeAsT I DonT RuN ou—-shut up! If it came down to it and we ended up fighting I’ll whoop you so disrespectfully boy..”

“YOU WHAT?!”

Me and Mrs. Petty everyone <3

You both tend to argue a lot but it’s stupid arguments that you start because you love annoying him.

And he knows this.

Zoro also likes patting your butt

It’s never sexual—you’re the sexual being in the relationship (we’ll get to that later)

But Zoro loves your fat butt.

Literally. The man is a butt man.

The way you sway your hips when you walk and how your butt effortlessly moves has him staring for way longer than he should.

And you know this.

However he usually pats your butt to get your attention

“Common we head to head to the ship.” He stated in your ear walking past you giving your bum a light slap and slowly dragging away said hand off your bum.

It turns you on sm pls

Loves to nap on your tummy

Looks like a grumpy baby with his strong arms around you and his face slightly tucked in with his eyebrows furrowed

He usually lift up your shirt to have skin to skin contact

Sniffs your hair a lot

Don’t know why he does it but sometimes when he’s standing behind you he just lowers his head and does a subtle whiff

You don’t question it….you kinda wanna though.

He lets you hold and use his swords

You have threatened him with it…many times.

Also if you have a TWA(or any natural hairstyle really) or like finger waves of the sort he friggin loves that. Whenever he’s holding you he tends to run his rough fingers through your curls and sometimes helps pull out any kinks he may randomly find

You woke up to him one time eyes completely focused on a tangled curl you had

It was so cute

“Zo—-?”

“Lay back down im not finished.” He pushed your head back down gently still taking out the curl.

Despite that Zoro really has no clue on how to be a proper boyfriend sometimes so you have to teach him.

A lot.

“Why would you randomly want flowers where would you put them?”

“ITS THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS YOU ASS.”

He’s trying.

Y’all never go on proper dates though.

Zoro doesn’t think it’s necessary, you both spend a lot of time together training or when you dock on a ship.

However if you REALLY wanna go on a date he’ll take you.

Ended up in a mess.

You both got lost.

Zoro was fighting random pirates

You shot a guy

Y’all fell down a hill because Zoro slipped and grabbed your arm

Never again

His dick makes up for all his stupidity though

Okay don’t get mad…

But I don’t think Zoro is as great with sex as y’all say he is OKAY JUST LISTEN TO MEJDJDDKSKS

I do believe he can LEARN HE IS A GOOD AND FASTER LEARNER

But it took so long because he’s so easily flustered.

Just like Sanji and Luffy he was a virgin and you had a bit more experience.

You went down on him first and he was actually more embarrassed than turned on KSBSJDKS

But he just felt weird seeing you in between his legs damn near gagging on his cock. You liked it though.

“Are —-are you okay?”

“Mmhm. Why does it not feel good?” :(

“No ! I mean yes! IT DOES! DAMMIT YES YOUR MOUTH FEELS GOOD!—“

When Zoro first slid inside you you swore his eyes rolled back and he swears you were just seeing things.

“Feel good don’t it.”

“Shut the hell up.”

No but after the 2 years he definitely got much better and bigger

He knows how to read your faces on what hurts and what feels good and it’s honestly something he pats himself on the back for.

He loves it when you sit on his face btw.

You’re thick, he’s thick , and he loves your thickness so sit on his thick head. Both of em

Remember how I said you were the more horny one of the relationship?

Not true he is but you’re more vocal about it.

“Zoooooo….I wanna sit on your face.”

Man nearly drops his dumbbells on his foot.

“What is wrong with you?!” Literally been craving to eat you out all day since he had a dream about it this morning though.

His tongue…..

Whew

My mans is a messy eater

VERY MESSY AND AGGRESSIVE TOO

You like how he manhandles you so it’s not a big deal but if anyone were to see him eat you out they’d think he’s literally EATING YOU

He loves holding you up on his shoulder to eat you out btw

You’ve been caught once by Usopp in the aquarium with you back high on the wall and him sucking your clit

Us couldn’t speak to you for weeks

Zoro didn’t give af

Ok he did a little because his dick was out

Amazing bf.

[markantonys]

A weird trend I've noticed (at least among Twitter show to book first timers) is quite a few of them hating show Rand in s1 but loving him immediately when reading Eye of the World. Which is kinda bizarre to me? Especially considering how they aged him up in the show and he's way more mature than he is the books. And I adore book Rand he's my favorite character in the entire series and glad more people are liking him. But makes me feel more protective of show Rand cause he also deserves the love!

I think the reasons though are cause showwise we can't see inside his head so people who didn't like him in s1 see where he's coming from when reading the book since they see his thoughts? Idk

that's so rude!!! i would guess it's because s1 rand expresses anger (and expresses anger towards female characters lmao) much more than eotw rand, who is just kinda quietly vibing and drinking his milk and being wholesome and keeping most of his negative emotions in his head because he's too polite to express them aloud (which obviously can't work in a visual medium). overall, according to my vague memories of eotw, i'd say that s1 rand is a much stronger personality than eotw rand, which makes him a more dynamic and interesting character but at the same time puts him at higher risk of rubbing people the wrong way than Untoasted White Bread Blank Slate Boy aka eotw rand haha

and the maturity increase is similar. in eotw, mat is immature in a way that most people find grating and unlikable, and so most people agree that he unequivocally benefits from the show's maturity increase. but rand in eotw is less "immature" and more "naive", he's immature mostly in a sweet and endearing way, and so maybe this group of readers doesn't care that he's acting more like a tween (or even a straight-up child at times) than the young adult he's supposed to be, they just find him Cute And Baby, and meanwhile they find s1 rand rude and unlikable because he has more serious problems and reacts more seriously to said problems (thinking mostly in terms of his relationship with egwene here - a certain subset of viewers hate s1 rand for having his own feelings & opinions in the relationship rather than being 100% fine with getting dumped in ep1 and then 100% happy to jump back into egwene's arms like nothing happened in ep2 when she wants to reverse her decision, so i could imagine they like him more in eotw when his problems with egwene are mostly silly and childlike and treated comedically by the narrative, as opposed to legitimate conflicts in an established long-term romantic relationship which the narrative takes seriously)

but if you don't love rand at his throwing a tantrum at moiraine in s1, then you don't deserve him at his going to get a glass of milk at midnight and spitting it out in surprise upon running into a fade! i can only imagine that these people are going to start hating book rand in later books once he stops being Untoasted White Bread Blank Slate Boy and starts developing a stronger personality and rougher edges lmao

(also, all this is not to say that rand's eotw softness doesn't come across in the show, because it absolutely does! i think s1 rand is on the one hand angrier and more volatile than eotw rand (which gets him hate in spaces like twitter and tumblr among those who deem any male character who isn't nice and agreeable 100% of the time Trash) yet simultaneously he's also more openly affectionate & tender and more of a homebody (which gets him hate in spaces like reddit among those who deem any male character who isn't a badass power fantasy 100% of the time Lame))

[sg-the-mag-by]

Bellflower Bat Welcome Home Van Helsing AU

Tossed my bat girl Bellflower into another AU, one that really lets her mysterious bat side shine. In my side of the AU she and Howdy are dating in secret, mainly because in this AU Bellflower is a Dhampir and a Werebat, plus a bit of magic from her father’s side-Poppy’s uncle on her own father’s side.

Bellflower does drink blood, though sticks to wild animals or unsuspecting people, those are only if she is desperate or it’s the full moon and she’s in her Werebat form. In that form her thirst for blood is tripled and she is much more animalistic so watch out or your blood will be on her menu. She NEVER eats meat even as a Werebat, she is a fruit bat and vampire bat only.

She and Poppy are as close as sisters and when Bellflower isn’t sneaking away from her family to be with Howdy, she’ll be found helping Poppy with her fortune telling.

Bellflower considers Howdy her best friend, lover, and bond mate-though that last one is not yet known to her or Howdy but Eddie, Frank, Julie, and Poppy all see it and are just telling the two to just kiss and marry already, which they will when they’re ready. Howdy is uncharacteristically protective over Belle and she him, which both chalk up to how close they are as friends, not realizing it is their bond mate link that causes this.

Bellflower sees Wally as the brother she never had, but because of who she is she doesn’t let anything reveal herself to Wally, even if it means she can only visit him a few days out of the whole month. She will protect him of course, but if she has to use her powers she’ll have her hood up.

Barnaby is another close friend, though Bellflower doesn’t hang out with him as much, at least around him she can be herself, and help stitch him up if an ear or arm falls off randomly. Barnaby loves trying out his new jokes on her and loves watching her double over on herself laughing, thinking her laugh is super sweet and if Howdy doesn’t claim her then he might. Which Howdy wouldn’t allow, again linking back to him and Belle being bond mates.

Eddie is Bellflower’s second best friend. She helps him track werewolves, he helps her through the full moon by getting her a plethora of animals to drink their blood so she doesn’t have to go to the villages.

Frank and Bellflower have a solid friendship, nothing like what he and Julie have, but they do appreciate Bellflower’s company and magic knowledge she has from her late father(he was killed thinking he was a Vampire when he was just a normal fortune teller). Belle loves listening to Frank go on about their new spells, looking into the potions they make when Eddie gets attacked by Werewolves, and helping him learn more on Werebats, as well as just having relaxing conversations on just about anything.

Like Frank, Bellflower and Julie share a solid friendship with Belle bringing her things for her brews and Julie having another female friend to talk to and help Bellflower’s magical powers increase, Frank does this too but Julie adds fun twists in her teachings.

Last is Sally and Belle only has a purely neutral friendship with her. She goes to her bar only when she’s in town, and like with Wally never lets it out who she really is. She does kick out rude patrons for Sally, usually taking them out back and drinking their blood only to spit it out because of the alcohol in it, and sends them on their way. Sally is suspicious but she knows if she voices anything she’ll lose Bellflower as a friend, patron, and bouncer.

BONUS! @orphanpuppet ‘s OC Allie Sweetie Bellflower sees as a nephew, since he was adopted by Frank and Eddie, and is always up for babysitting him and helping him to fly, and to stop him from chewing the furniture as his bigger vampire fangs come in too.

And that’s what I’ve got for Bellflower’s relationship to everyone in this AU. Thank you @night-light-artz for the template and I hope I didn’t mess up anyone’s personalities in your AU with how they’d react around Bellflower.

Welcome Home-@partycoffin

Welcome Home Van Helsing AU-@night-light-artz

Allie Sweetie-@orphanpuppet

Bellflower Bat-Me

[adalwolfgang]

Until I Found You

Younger!Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Requested By: @charliedawn

Warnings: Reader is a Singer at a bar, takes place before Ambrose became deserted, Lester as a wingman, Pet Names, Slang term Yankee used, Southern Gibberish/Slang, Alcohol, Blood/Foul Language/Bar fight, Little ooc, Bo Sinclair

The local bar is a quaint little place, full of recognizable faces and a good place to have fun, not to mention it’s a great way to make money, every Saturday, you would stand on the small wooden stage singing whatever song was requested by patrons. Tonight's song choice being "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez.

You wouldn't have to be on stage until another hour, so you were given the chance to relax in a secluded section of the bar for employees only. The view was perfect for you to overlook the whole bar while staying out of view of most eyes. Your hair a makeup already prepped and. A simple vodka martini in your hand as you chatted with some of your coworkers since after your show, the bar would be closing for the day.

Your conversation is cutoff by a commotion. You and your coworkers snap your heads to the noise, a broad southern drawl reaching your ears as slurs are shouted out, along with the crash of glass and wood making an impact. A fight had broken out between a group of patrons. A tall brunette and a scrawny blonde man vs what looked to be a group of Yankees.

Your eyebrow quirks up when you listen to half the insults spitting out of one of the brunettes' mouths. With how fast he was talking and with his accent, it all sounded like gibberish. "YER EN' EGG SUCKIN' DAWG IZ WHUT YORE!" Wow....

More insults and punches are thrown at both parties as you watch the scene unfold. Soon your pissed off boss followed by security break up the fight. The Yankees' getting escorted out of the bar since they supposedly started the fight. The scrawny blonde man tries his best at holding back the raging brunette who is still sputtering insult after insult. Half of them making no sense to you or your coworkers.

After everything settles down, you watch as the duo walk to the wooden barrier that is located along the length of the bar. After finishing your drink, you check the clock mounted on one of the walls. You still had a few minutes to spare before you needed to be backstage in preparation for your show. You stand to your feet and start making your way to the bar. You rest your elbow on the bar, resting your chin in your hand. "Another martini please Dan" you ask with a cheeky smile. Dan was one of the bartenders that would sometimes give you and other coworkers a drink on the house.

He places down the glass he was cleaning before giving a small nod with a smirk. "You nervous to go on stage?" he asks as he walks over to the many options of alcohol. Grabbing a bottle of vodka and a martini glass. You shrug your shoulders, "Only thing to keep my nerves low." He finishes making your drink, sliding it over to you. "Yeah? Well, you best be careful with how much you consume. Wouldn't want you getting on stage drunk off your ass."

You just roll your eyes playfully in response, taking a sip of your drink. As you do so, you feel eyes bore into you. You look in the corner of your eye to see the brunette from earlier, sitting right next you. He quickly notices your gaze but doesn't look away. Instead, he gives a wink as he tips his glass to you, taking a swig. Your face instantly heats up as you can't help but return a small smile to him. "Aren't you the guy who was throwing those insults earlier?" you ask with a raised brow.

Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. "Ya' saw thet?"

"I did." You give a chuckle before asking, "Would you be kind enough to explain what you were sputtering at the other group? Your accent made it hard for me to understand what you were saying." He gives a small smirk before letting out a hearty laugh.

"Now whut' kind of gentlemen would ah bay tuh tell uh purdy women lahk you thet? Thet would bay gist plain rude uh meh." You can't help but smile at his choice of words. Very charismatic. "You have a nice accent."

After some more flirty banter back and forth, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see one of the guitarists. "We're on in 10 minutes." He says with an embarrassed smile, feeling bad for interrupting the conversation. You turn back to look at the man.

"It was nice chatting with you, but I need to get to work. See ya around mister" you say with a wave goodbye before following the guitarist through the crowd to backstage. Bo was about to reach out to grab your wrist, but Lester stopped him. "Ahdn't do it Bo. Ya should tawk' tuh' her afterwards. Hey, yer might git lucky" Lester mutters into his ear before patting him on the back. Bo looked gave Lester a pointed look before looking back toward your form. His eyes held yearning, but he then thought back to Lesters words before shaking his head and turning in his stool back toward the bar. He most definitely would talk with you after.

(Time skip, lights point toward the stage, everyone quieting down.)

The guitarist from earlier appears on stage as the bar goes quiet. He starts strumming on his guitar, and singing the opening to the song. "Georgia, wrap me up in all your. I want you in my arms. Oh, let me hold you. I'll never let you go again like I did. Oh, I used to say. I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

You then walk out on stage, holding a vintage mic to your lips, "Heaven, when I held you again. How could we ever just be friends? I would rather die than let you go. Juliet to your Romeo, how I heard you say~" As you sing, you sway your body a little on stage, circling the guitarist as he strums his guitar.

Then you both join together, "I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

Bo watches you from his seat at the bar with a slack jaw and mesmerized look, the way you capture everyone’s attention, just like a siren, and everyone in the bar is completely transfixed on you both. He notices the way the dim lights shine against your skin, making you glow as the lyrics flow so heavenly from your lips, he could watch you forever.

The song ends with a close, the guitarist singing the last part of the song. "I would never fall in love again until I found her. I said, I would never fall unless it's you I fall into. I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her. I found you~"

The room falls silent before a round of applause tears through the air, and you smile. You and the guitarist bow to each other before bowing to the crowd. Not soon after, you walk off the small wooden stage. Some coworkers huddling over to congratulate you both.

(Time skip, again. Soon as almost everyone is out of the bar, except of few employees and patrons being passed out drunk.)

After getting changed out of your performance clothes, you head toward the exit, waving bye to some of your coworkers. Too say you were exhausted would be an understatement. Before you can get but only a few feet from the bar, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and someone clearing their throat. You turn around and nearly jump in surprise when a bouquet of flowers are in your face.

"Ya did purdy good up on thet' stage sweetheart."

Your eyes widen when you hear the broad southern drawl from the man at the bar. You peak over the bouquet of flowers to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You notice he is no longer wearing the mechanic suit like before. Instead, it's a black suit, with a black jacket to go along with it. His hair slicked back, except for one strand poking out. You take the flowers from him, giving them a small sniff before smiling back at him.

"Would it be rude of me to ask what these are for?"

Bo goes to answer but his words get caught in his throat. He avoids your gaze for a minute, before turning his head. You quirk a brow, following his gaze before stifling laugh. His brother was peeking out behind one of the buildings close by, trying to mouth something to Bo and gesturing for him to keep talking. Bo lets out a hard sigh before turning back to you with a polite smile. "Gist may showin' ya southern hospitality," he says before wetting his bottom lip, "Ah know thus might bay very bold uh may but...." He clears his throat, "Can ah invite ya tuh have dinner with may wun night? Thayure's thus' new restaurant in Ambrose, maeybe' we could try it together?"

"Like a date?"

Bo chuckles at your question, looking at the ground for a moment before looking back up to you. "Ah mean.....Ahdn't make no protest."

You give a laugh. Bo couldn't help but swoon right then a there. He gets so caught up in his head, he almost trips forward, quickly catching himself and standing up quickly. "How about I meet you back here tomorrow night? Same time. After my show, we can go to this new restaurant." Bo's face lights up at your proposal. "Alright! Same tahm', tuhmorrow' night. Got it." He nods his head in agreement. He turns to go back toward his brother but stops in his tracks before turning back to you. He softly takes your hand in his, pressing a quick kiss to it before walking backwards then spinning around, walking back to his brother. He gives Lester a big smile before doing a small jump in victory to you saying yes.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

[mr2swap]

Take Me Home, Country Roads

I have to admit that at first, I was very upset with Johnny, That damn bastard managed in a way that I still don't know to exchange our bodies and our lives, one night I was sleeping in my luxurious apartment in my silk pajamas in NYC and when I woke up to a stinky hot little room in a rusty old trailer. I thought I was dreaming until the smell of my stinky sweaty armpits snapped me out of my weird dizziness and into my new reality.

Likewise, I felt strange and not only because my body was now that of a 19-year-old boy, but something was wrong with my head, it was as if my mind was getting used to the lazy and fucking brain of this boy, all my studies and my Hardboard's diploma were useless now, so I walked into another small room, avoiding the old stale beer cans littering the floor, and entered the filthy, filthy bathroom of the RV where I'd woken up.

My new face was much younger, I barely had hair on my head that seemed to have been shaved at least a month ago, and my skin was much whiter and smoother. Now I had a tattoo on my shoulder -Who the fuck is Jenny?- I surprised myself using those rude words coming out of my mouth without really being angry….

My stupid brain now limited myself, I searched the small and messy house full of garbage until I found a cell phone, but when I finally had it in my hands, my own number quickly disappeared from my mind -SHIT! NO! NO! - Without realizing it, I began to beat my own head trying to think how to get out of this shitty situation.

The heat was so unbearable and annoying that my armpits and the rest of my body began to sweat, and the small space where I now lived still smelled bad, I went to the "kitchen" and opened the fridge to find something to quench my thirst, without thinking about it Too bad I grabbed a can of ice-cold beer, and emptied it into my mouth before I realized what I'd done, but… it felt good.

I took the rest of the six-pack that was in the fridge and opened another can and sat on a sofa that had obviously never been cleaned and started drinking from the second can, I had never tried this cheap brand in my life, but somehow reason the taste was familiar and pleasant, little by little beer after beer I began to relax and watch a soccer game on the small television in front of me, I had forgotten all my problems when I had already drunk 4 cans, I no longer thought about what was happening me or where my real body was, the only thing I was concentrating on now was how big the boobs on the cheer squad were.

I looked down at my pants and had a reaction that I never had in my old life, a boner for a woman. Wasting no time pulling out my new cock and spit on my calloused hands and started jerking off letting the memories of “Jimmy” about boobs, ass, and vagina seep into my mind, my new cock was quite thick albeit a bit small, but I didn't care about that, it was the perfect size for my hands hardened by physical work.

Apparently now I'd be living in the country in a huge parking lot with a bunch of noisy southern families like me...

After that, I never tried to remember my old life or my old body, life in the country is pretty quiet, I work 8 hours a day at the local construction company and after that I go to my new friend's house to smoke, drinking, watching football and talking about all the girls we've fucked, I'm thinking about getting a girlfriend or something it would be great to have a pussy eager for me when I get to my RV.

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!