#like if only i could have had the foresight to just fuck him from the jump and then be done with him lmao

[lexsssu]

Is it possible to request for more sung jinwoo smut? Pls i'm a starved simpTT

TAGS: Jinwoo/Wife!reader, dirty talk, breeding, smut, drabble Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Ngl I only just realized that I should have answered this ask with that Jinwoo drabble I recently crossposted from Ao3, but also because of that y'all get a totally new one that hasn't been posted there yet HAHAHAHAHA

Something has gotten into your husband.

How else could you explain the way he didn't even get you into bed before deciding he had to fuck you immediately? The way he so easily lifted you up and down his cock while standing up was certainly something you never expected from him.

"...'m sorry I couldn't reach the bed in time, but I couldn't help myself anymore..."

Despite his seemingly apologetic words, there is no sign of repentance from the way he savagely fucked up into you, almost as if you were just a mere onahole meant to receive his cock and cum.

For Jinwoo, his newfound powers hadn't just amplified his growth and potential as a hunter, but his already burning desire for you, his dearest wife, felt like it was fed steroids AND viagra.

Can he really be blamed for wanting to split your pretty pussy open and maybe fuck another baby inside of you? Fuck, just thinking about how soft and plump you get once he knocks you up again has his mouth watering already.

Perhaps another side effect of this new power was the fact that his depravity was also kicked up a notch or two

"Just cum for me one more time, 'kay sweetie? And lemme cream this pretty pussy too before we take a 'lil break..."

Sung Jinwoo did NOT give you a break, and proceeded to breed you until you felt as stuffed as a freshly-made cream-filled donut. And like said pastry, you could only really lie back as your unapologetic husband cleaned you up, making sure to push back any cum that tried to drip out of your with his long fingers.

Thankfully, Jinah had the foresight to take her nephew to her friend's place knowing full well that her brother and sister-in-law would be...preoccupied.

[loudclan-clangen]

(I thought of something funny)

Whenever Owlstar comes back to camp from solo walks, there's just this giant banner at the entrance reading "Welcome Back, Cheater."

Slitsplash swears they didn't put it up, but appreciates whoever did it.

Meanwhile, Fiercestripe is smirking in the background. (She did it)

They’re throwing him a party!

(˃̣̣̥▽˂̣̣̥) These asks all flow together so well I genuinely cannot tell if they are multiple people or just one person who is SO PISSED. Made my night to see these all come in at about 2am. If Owlstar has 100 haters im one of them, if Owlstar has 1 hater it's me, if Owlstar has no haters im dead.

I do! It was actually incredibly comical from my perspective because Eklutna showed up, did fuck all for 5 moons, got pregnant, then promptly died giving birth, to which i went "aw, that sucks" clicked on her kits, and SAW THAT THIER DAD WAS THE LEADER, SOMETHING THAT I DID NOT KNOW COULD HAPPEN. Eklutna didn't even have any romantic like for him, to my recollection, and Owlstar had like maybe a single tick for her? It was really just lucky rng I guess. Owl and Silt actually didn't break up in the game at all, in my original draft for the story, when i was just writing notes as i played, Siltsplash was a lot more... okay with it? Like they were pissed but their personality was a lot more demure so they didn't act on anything really. The exact quote from the draft was: "I won’t lie to you. I’m angry. Starclan, I’m more than angry, I’m furious. I have half the mind to tell you to leave and never come back.” They paused, seeing Owlstar deflate and taking some slight, bitter satisfaction in it before continuing, “But that wouldn’t be fair to those kits. They didn’t ask to be born, much less to you. They deserve to have a family, or as much of it as they are able to have, and starclan help me we’re in this together." It certainly fit with what I knew about them then, but given my ability to look forward and see future events, I decided that a break up made more sense.

Don't be sorry! I am not currently in artfight, I'm considering it but I wouldn't be able to be very active due to school, and I don't want to take another break from this blog so soon after my last, so it's not very high up on my list of priorities. I'm kinda casually working on refs for the more popular characters, so there's a chance I'll get those done and join a team, especially if it's something you guys want me to do. If that happens I'll be sure to let you guys know! I am now in art fight! I gave into peer pressure again. (In a good way).

I don't think even Silt knew. Siltsplash was OUT of it after their conversation with Owlstar, (see: the Eklutna hallucination), and they probably didn't even know where they were headed until they reached the nursery. But after setting eyes on the kits, Siltslpash knew that there was only one option. Yes, they "took the kids in the divorce" but truly they weren't thinking about revenge. They just saw kids who needed something that they could provide.

In terms of writing, though, since I have hundreds of moons of foresight, it was a total bait and switch. I needed to make sure that people had a reason to come back after the break and any comic with kittens in it usually gets a lot of attention, so it was a "marketing" decision to split up the moon the way that I did, in order to make sure that there wasn't too bad of a fall off in interaction for the blog.

In game Eklutna had an affair with Owlstar, died giving birth, and the "died giving birth" event overwrote the "reveal affair" event so technically, in game Owlstar didn't reveal the affair... ever? (Though I had written in my notes that he told Siltsplash who took them as their own). Story wise, Owlstar hadn't planned to tell anyone until the kits started asking about who their father was. Then he would tell them, and would probably reveal it to the clan when they earned their names and were able to become deputy. But, when Eklutna died all that went out the window. For all his faults, Owlstar is not a bad dad, and he would never leave his kits orphaned, even if it would get him in a lot of trouble to do so. He really does care for them, and he feels terrible about how much he's screwed up their lives so far.

He did bad, deitycrows, he did bad. He cheated on his mate and then his affair partner died in childbirth so he's not very popular rn, I've got to be honest.

I don't think it helps at all but, Owlstar did really genuinely like Eklutna! Now, was that because she never opposed him on anything and flattered him with adoring compliments at every opportunity? Possibly. But the "Starclan said" thing was honestly just more of an excuse for him. He woulda had an affair anyway, he just wouldn't have intentionally had kits with her.

:) Eklutna liked... the power that Owlstar held. She liked that he was chosen by Starclan to lead the clan, she liked that his kits are meant to inherit the position of leadership, and she liked that as the mother of his kits she would have a lot of control over both him and the leader after him. As far as his personality... he's kinda a clown but she could live with that.

To be frank: The order of inheritance is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. If Eklutna had lived, it would be easy. She would take over as deputy until one of the kits was old enough to hold the position. But, since she's dead and Owlstar's only heirs are literal infants, as their adoptive parent Siltsplash is still the deputy for now. What happens when the kits reach adulthood is kinda up for debate. As Owlstar's closest descendant, Songkit should be deputy upon earning his warrior name, BUT Siltsplash is very much against that plan, and the kits might not want to go against their most attentive parent. So the very unhelpful answer is: We have to wait and see what the characters decide.

Thank you so much! I love to hear from first time viewers and see what you guys think of the characters! I'm glad that the dialogue worked so well and Eklutna definitely has Sol vibes! You look at both of them and go "in what world would this plan work the way you wanted it to???"

[rapturousrendezvous]

｡+.｡glazed｡+.｡ katakurixfem!reader tags/warnings: cunnlingus/cum play/creampie/vaginal felching/all smut no fluff/porn w/o plot words: 1018k

the sheets tangle between your fingertips, head bent backward as the tears of your pleasure stain the pillows you lean against. his thick, and massive cock just keeps pumping into you, faster and faster with no means of stopping until he reached his limit. you knew katakuri had unbelievable stamina, this wasn't his first time fucking you. you disrelish that he got so used to your body so instantly, when at first even sliding inside you he'd cum within minutes from how you felt around him.

but now he knew you inside and out, he could handle how you'd flex your pelvic muscles, or wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. he didn't have to use his ability of foresight to know what you'd do next, he memorized it all…

"does this please you __? knowing that i could stay buried inside your sweet pussy for hours?"

this normally quiet man saying such filthy words makes your back arch, the moans coming from your throat echo through the room louder and back to back to answer his question. he takes this as a queue to slow down, savoring each moment he slid in and pressed the most inner part of you and back out until only the tip of him remained.

you plead for him to pick up the speed again, as this torment of teasing strokes edges you. he doesn't fight you, slamming his hips forward so you gasp and bite your tongue. hungry for more you ride against his thrusts, the blended stimulation causing him to be sloppy. he's getting close…

without words you wrap your legs around him so he can't move, only feel how your walls close in around his shaft. when you make eye contact with him, he loses the battle, his cock throbbing and swelling as he groans and grips your hips with a hold so tight, you can feel the bruises form.

not soon after his low growl and slight whimper, hot, thick fluid shoots from his cock, filling you in seconds while merging with your juices that flow around him from your orgasm. with bated breath he slowly pulls out from you allowing any remaining cum to dribble and squirt onto your swollen vulva. he removes one of his large hands from your hips to touch your clit, your hips twitching from overstimulation and the aftermath.

"so pretty…even when covered in my cum."

you moan against his gentle touches, smearing the fluids across your skin like glaze as if he were preparing you for something more.

"katakuri…what are-"

you're silenced when he swiftly bends down, his tongue pressing against your thighs as he licks and kisses the area. the inner left, then inner right, purposely avoiding your entrance while glancing up at you to gauge your reaction. you want to grab his hair and make him stay in one spot, but the anticipation of not knowing if he knew you'd do that makes you hesitate.

"i'm going to try something new. open your legs wider for me, baby."

you obey, spreading yourself and watching as his palms rest on either side of the places he left kisses. he leans forward to kiss your slick, cum covered hole while allowing his tongue to dip inside you. the sensation drives you wild as you can feel him explore you with his tongue, lapping and eating your combined mess into his mouth like a sweet treat. what's more, is how he moans against you, how it vibrates against your skin and makes your legs tremble as you try to hold back a loud outcry.

but he wants to hear you, making sure he reaches as deep as he can with his broad and fat tongue. he occasionally takes it out to suck your clit and create a bigger mess as cum, spit, and sweat pool together and start to drip on the sheets below. you can tell by his lowered eyelids, the drunken haze in his stare that he enjoys the taste of you and him and how it you're trying so hard not to come again just from watching him.

"fuck…i'm hard again…but i don't want to stop eating…"

he speaks slow, almost slurring while in ecstasy. his tongue slides back to your pussy, writing unspoken words as you bite your lips and press your head back on the pillows wishing you could hold out for a minute or two longer. everything felt so good, so fucking good that you wanted to stay in a time loop where it's nothing but you, his tongue and the overwhelming amount of pleasure it gave you.

"kata….ku…r-" you struggle to say his name, to beg for him to slow down when he presses his face deeper and relentlessly swirls his tongue against your aching cunt. you're past the point of return, the familiar feeling rising up from your belly to your chest, your heartbeat quickens and your mouth opens to cry out a airy moan with sweet melodic tones as you come harder than before. your juices coat his lips, gushing and pushing out any remaining fluids that were inside you. he pulls up as if drowning in the taste of you, gasping and licking his lips as he positions himself on his knees. he only needs to pump his twitching cock a few times before he stoops over you, spurting quick bursts of more cum on your body as it lands on your tits and belly.

there's nothing but the slow and deep breaths from the two of you, staring at one another and the incredible amount of mess that was made on the sheets. they'd need to be washed sooner than later, but at the moment neither of you care to move any further as your lover crashes next to you on the only dry spot left on the bed as he pulls you to his chest.

he leaves one final bite and kiss gently against your jaw, you return the favor, smiling into his body as you kindly remind him that shortly you'll both need a very long and warm bath.

[captain-hawks]

BEST FRIENDS & BAD IDEAS

♡ — jean kirstein x f!reader

Big aspirations and even bigger dildos—in which a poorly thought out plan makes it incredibly hard to act like your feelings for Jean Kirstein are platonic. Not when they’re anything but. And especially not when you’re half naked in his lap.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.7k

prompt — cockwarming, creampie

additional content — NSFW, 18+, best friends to lovers speed run, dildo use, implied masturbation, unprotected p in v, praise kink, jean kirstein’s big dick

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Jean growls, and his low, rough tone sends you off-kilter, shoving you headfirst over the precarious edge you’ve been foolishly dangling from.

In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

–

In the long list of questionable decisions you’ve made today, one of the first catalysts guaranteeing inevitable disaster was your lack of foresight to lock your bedroom door before stripping off your shorts and underwear and preparing to lower yourself down onto the ridiculously large dildo that had been delivered in an even more comically large Amazon box this morning. 

Your best friend of many years and college roommate, Jean Kirstein, came home just as your makeshift “stand”—you’d hastily attached the suction cup at the base of the dildo to the last clean plate in the cabinet for lack of a better surface—went flying across the rug, ripping the few inches you’d manage to ease down onto right out of your lube-slick channel. You’d hit the floor with a thud, growling in frustration. This, understandably, had the unfortunate effect of attracting the concern of said roommate, who swiftly burst into your room as if you were in the middle of being robbed. 

The concern quickly morphed into hysterics as he spotted the giant purple dildo wiggling uselessly a few feet away from where you were lying on your stomach, punching the carpet and yelling at him to get out with as much dignity as you could muster.

“That’s my shirt,” he commented dryly, ignoring your pleas for him to forget everything he had just seen. 

“Well it was in my drawer,” you spat back, trying to push the dildo-plate behind you, although the damage was already done.

Jean leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have so many questions.”

“Our business hours are between 8 and 5, so you’ll have to call back tomorrow. Sorry,” you said with a dismissive wave, subtly kicking the plate and dildo beneath the bed. 

The suction cup chose that moment to pop off, and all ten inches came rolling back into view right where a bar of sunlight was stretching across the floor from the window. It would have almost looked artsy. 

If it weren’t a fucking dildo.

“I thought you ordered a lamp,” he observed mildly, motioning to the huge cardboard box you’d yet to take out to the recycling bin. 

“I’m gonna order you a fleshlight if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, shoving on a pair of sweatpants.

Jean crinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s so big, the landlord might start charging us for three tenants if he sees it. Is this a cry for help?”

“I’m trying to prepare myself for seducing Eren at the party Saturday night,” you whisper-yelled, as if anyone else was going to overhear you in your otherwise empty apartment. 

“Jaeger?!” he barked out with a disbelieving laugh. 

“Everyone says he’s huge. I don’t want it to be a disaster.”

“He’s not that fucking big!” he exclaimed incredulously. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can you like, go be somewhere tonight? Go get so high with Conny you forget you saw anything? I’m gonna go try in the bathroom instead.”

“You’re kicking me out of my own apartment so you can shove a giant, sparkly purple dildo inside of yourself imagining it’s Jaeger’s dork ass?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Jean.”

He groaned. “The bathroom sounds like an even worse idea. You’ll slip, hit your head on something, blood will go everywhere, and we’ll lose the security deposit.”

“Or my plan will work, I’ll get laid this weekend, and you can stop complaining about how grumpy I’ve been lately,” you reasoned matter-of-factly. 

Jean’s hand came to rest on your shoulder as you attempted to push past him to leave the room, aforementioned dildo jiggling menacingly in your hand. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said a little more softly, raising a brow as he cast another look at the offending object.

“I have lube!” you shot back defensively.

Jean glanced up at the ceiling, muttering something about regret under his breath before exhaling, “Let me help you.”

–

In all the years that you’ve known Jean, you’ve done an excellent job at keeping your little crush on him your best kept secret. A secret kept under the most formidable lock and key, buried deep in the depths of your psyche. Tucked away in the very back of a dusty, old cabinet like an expired can of corn. 

Objectively, you know Jean’s handsome. You’re well aware. 

With his intense, hazel eyes—ones that see everything. 

His tall, solid form. 

His sinfully curved, pink lips (and his habit of idly sliding his tongue along the bottom one). 

His long, dexterous fingers—a dangerous thought. 

That fucking mullet he let grow in, which shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is when he rolls right out of bed and leaves his room looking like a pillow-rumpled supermodel. 

He’s hot, okay?

And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed at a few parties over the years. Jean’s seen your ass more times than you can count. Definitely your boobs that time he ran into the bathroom to puke while you were showering. Sometimes he has a habit of putting his head on your lap when you’re both on the couch, nudging you till you card your hands through his soft brown hair like a damn dog. 

But it’s always been platonic. 

Friendly. 

Two people who are just very, very comfortable with one another. Comfortable in knowing that neither intends to ruin their stable, solid friendship by carelessly sprinkling feelings into the mix. 

Comfortably going so far as to share the sordid details of your sex lives (or lack thereof, lately) while leaning against the kitchen counter eating take out food without batting an eye—though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to one up him sometimes when you feel that familiar, unwelcome twinge of jealousy yawning awake inside of you.

But this?

This is asking too much of your restraint to keep your heart walled off and your mouth clamped shut. In your defense, it was already left in pitiful tatters after grinning-and-bearing it throughout the seven-month-long nightmare that was Jean dating fucking Pieck. 

—

The next phase of your slew of terrible ideas today began with Jean sitting at the head of your bed, back against the wall, holding the dildo between his legs. Like your own personal fucking dildo holder. Grinning like this wasn’t the single most awkward thing the two of you have ever done (save for the time you both fell asleep with your head in his lap on the couch and woke up to his accidental boner poking you in the ear—neither of you ever mentioned that again). 

And it would have been totally fine if it worked out like you imagined in your head the moment he pitched it—you sinking down onto the silicone schlong a few times, stuffing in as much as you could while he held it still. Then letting him carry on with his day while you lay there in bed for a little while with it lodged inside of you, getting yourself used to the stretch. Totally fine. 

The reality of the situation was far different, entailing a sticky, slippery mess of lube coating of your hands and a dildo that bent and flopped in every direction as you tried to carefully impale yourself on it while maintaining some sense of dignity. 

You had given up fairly quickly, butting your head against Jean’s collarbone and sighing as you asked if he thought Eren would go slow. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“…do you trust me?” Jean had asked carefully, like his next suggestion wasn’t going to send you spiraling.

Like “Just sit on my dick, as a friend!” wasn’t the most fucking confusing statement your heart, brain, and vagina had ever heard.

–

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament, straddling Jean Kirstein’s lap with far more inches of him than you’d realized he’d been keeping tucked away buried to the hilt in the velvety heat between your thighs. Raw, skin-to-fucking-skin, because you’re both in a miserable dry spell with not a single condom to be found between the two of you. And somehow the combination of “known you for half of my life” and “just got tested” and “IUD” sounded better than one of you being tasked with trudging to the pharmacy.

Or, god fucking forbid, going down one floor to ask Conny for one.

Nope. 

You have three days to prepare yourself for whatever may come with Eren, so sitting on your best friend’s intimidatingly large dick sans condom the least of your worries. Even if it feels so incredible you’re literally silently choking on the moan threatening to spill past your lips. 

Even if you fucking swear you heard his breath hitch when the thick head of his cock began to slip past your entrance, stretching you open wide as he breached your damp channel. 

Even if he hardly had to touch himself to get hard for this. 

Even if his gaze darkened when you choked out, “Jean, your dick is huge.”

This was a terrible idea. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”

“Doing what?!” you ask, exasperated.

He rests his hands on your waist, “Doing this,” and squeezes firmly, “on my dick.”

“This isn’t even sex,” you tell him, ignoring the way the close proximity of his hazel eyes sets a flurry of emotion stuttering in your chest. “It’s like, cockwarming at best. You can’t come from cockwarming if you’re not even turned on.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know how tight you are?”

“That’s obviously why I was worried about Ere—”

“It’s like this,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s a loose hold, only meant to prove a snarky point, but a spark of arousal seeps through your body anyway at the mere suggestion. His eyes widen a fraction at the traitorous way your walls clamp down on him even harder in response. “What, you into being choked?”

“I’m into a lot of things, Jeanie,” you tell him haughtily, trying to ignore the heat blistering beneath your skin.

“Like dumb idiots named Eren Jaeger?” he counters, making to grab for the tongue you’re currently sticking out at him. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think Jean sounds like he’s jealous. 

Which he definitely isn’t. 

But you poke the bear anyway. 

“What, are you jealous?”

He shifts slightly, and you bite your lip to stifle the moan as your cunt spasms around the pressure from his cock. 

If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his brow furrows as the corners of his mouth tilt downward slightly. “I just think you deserve better.”

You tug on his earlobe, letting out a weak laugh in an attempt to dispel the sticky, messy feeling of hope trying desperately to cling to the arousal stirring in your gut. “Says the guy who’s currently fucking me.”

Jean scoffs and deadpans, “I thought this wasn’t sex.”

Who are you kidding? Certainly not the tension coiling ruthlessly in your abdomen. 

You move a little, trying and failing to relieve the sensation of hot wax dripping down your spine. Instead, you let out a tiny, strangled noise when your throbbing clit presses down against his pelvis, the resulting flood of pleasure setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

The way he growls out your name through gritted teeth is a warning, but his low tone only serves to stoke the flames licking their way up between your thighs. 

You move again, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, head hitting the wall behind him with a resounding thud. 

You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but his hands find their way back to your hips, calloused fingertips pressing directly against your skin as he slides them up beneath your shirt. His shirt. 

The next time you rock against him, his grip on you tightens. And then, you feel it—he tugs you forward. 

You lean further into him, without really meaning to, forehead coming to rest against his. “What are we…”

“Just keep going,” he murmurs. 

He shifts again, sinking down lower so his back is pressed against the mattress, and you realize the angle gives you more purchase to grind down against him when he pulls at your waist, thumbs lazily skimming your hip bones. 

“Jean…” you whisper, not really sure what else you intend to say. 

“I want you to feel good,” he says softly, pushing his hips against you, even though he’s snugly bottomed out. 

It feels so fucking good—

—laying atop Jean while he stares back up at you, pupils clearly dilated in arousal—

—watching his eyes fall shut as you run a hand along the stubble on his jaw—

—knowing he’s well aware the slickness between your legs is no longer from the lube, your cunt gushing with arousal at the feeling of being stuffed deep with his thick cock. 

So you tell yourself you’ll figure the rest out later when you start to shamelessly grind down against him. 

“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” Jean teases when you cough to cover up a gasp.

Your answering moan is nearly a whimper, and Jean’s muscles tense beneath you as he continues to guide your hips. He doesn’t try to pull his cock out from where it’s lodged inside of you, doesn’t start thrusting and fucking up into you. He just lets you chase the clitoral stimulation you so desperately need while you’re cockwarming him, groaning along with you at each needy drag. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

This is far more intimate than you bargained for, the gentle slide of his hands up your back scraping your heart out bit-by-bit. 

“Holy shit, you don’t know how close I am to coming right now,” he moans in a gravelly, unsteady tone. 

All you can do is whimper his name when the rubber band suddenly snaps in response, your body trembling as a wave of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. 

And then Jean’s hands are cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you fiercely as you whine and shudder through your orgasm, moaning into your mouth as you card your fingers through his hair. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, pulsing with need as your tight cunt spasms and contracts, relentlessly squeezing his shaft while you soak him with your release. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning, both of you too drunk on pleasure to move when he suddenly climaxes, cock pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy. 

Chests heaving, Jean slowly sits up, forehead falling against your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

After a few minutes of silence, he finally murmurs, “Don’t fuck Jaeger.”

You tilt his head upward, finger resting just below his chin, skimming the stubble that’s there. Too many emotions are swimming in his hazel eyes, more than you can identify—save for one that you recognize with a jolt of clarity. It’s the way you look at him, when he’s not paying attention.

Longing. 

Desire. 

Soft, gentle, unfiltered affection. 

This time, you’re the one to close the distance between your mouths, brushing your lips against his. 

“Who?” you ask, smiling into the kiss. 

Jean chuckles, the sound like warm honey, and he deepens the kiss, one hand sliding to the back of your head. Though you remain seated on his softening length, cum begins to seep from your slick heat, pooling on his balls and abdomen. 

He goes to move, but you don’t budge. “You wanna get cleaned up?”

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth tilting upward with a smirk. “I’m comfortable.”

Jean bites his lower lip, huffing, “My cum’s dripping all over, and I’m two seconds from getting hard again if you keep squeezing down on me like that.”

Feigning a look of innocence, you flex the muscles in your tight, soaked channel one more time for good measure. He chokes, and you grin. 

“Good.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[philistiniphagottini]

I'm back bitch lmao

Tbh I'm feeling either very innocent or very filthy depending on how you'll go about it soooo

63? With any chara u choose

I have spoken 😏

Hello friend :) Just so you know, it was your mistake for giving me the power to choose the character because I know your weaknesses. So I decided to go with Jing Yuan. Thanks for indulging me. Hope you enjoy~

63. thigh fucking (intercrural)

Smut Prompts

NSFW below the cut, MDNI

"Keep your legs pressed together for me" General Jing Yuan commanded, a small purr of your name falling from his rosy lips.

You hummed softly, heat prickling your bare skin and pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jing Yuan manhandled you to his pleasing. He held both your dainty ankles with a firm grip, resting them on his sturdy shoulder as your feet dangled uselessly beside his ear. You whimpered softly as you slipped an arm under the fluffy pillow supporting your head, nails digging into the fabric as he sandwiched his boiling cock between your plush thighs.

Jing Yuan’s hot breath tickled your skin as he moaned, golden eyes smouldering like embers as he watched you squirm with need beneath him. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he slid his cock against your creamy pussy, revelling in the harsh moan that spilled from your kiss swollen lips. Your blood simmered in your veins, heart pounding so loudly in your ears that you could barely hear anything over the incessant pulse. Your breathing wavered as the tip of his cock kissed your aching clit, spreading your arousal along his shaft as he continued to slowly rut against you.

General Jing Yuan didn’t think the sight of his little darling prancing around in thigh high, sheer lace stockings would stir something in him. He had, evidently, been so wrong about the amount of power a simple article of clothing would have over him. The mere sight of the lace hugging your thighs sent his mind into a tizzy. If he had any less self-control, he would have had his way with you at the Seat of Divine Foresight.

A warm chuckle blew past his lips as you mewled his name, rocking your hips against him and desperate for more sparks of friction on your wet pussy, your insides clenching around nothing as a hot coil wound tight in the pit of your stomach. Jing Yuan tilted his head, placing a featherlight kiss on your ankle as his hands sunk into your plush thighs, fingers squeezing generous amounts of skin.

"Eager?" he mused.

His fingers slipped under the lacy band of your thigh high socks, brushing against the sensitive skin and making your pulse race frantically beneath your skin. You nodded, arousal flushing your skin and turning the tips of your ears hot from the obscene, wet noise coming from between your thighs. Jing Yuan hummed with amusement, lazy eyes lidded as he let go of the elastic band of your stockings and let it snap back against your skin with a satisfying noise. You squeaked loudly, hips jolting forward as he repeated his actions. He adored the noises that stirred in your chest and he would never tire from dragging them from your bruised lips. His strong, calloused hands curled around your hips as he pulled you harder against him, the bed creaking from the sudden movement. You moaned sweetly as your core throbbed, causing your legs to tighten and squeeze the general’s thick cock until it felt like his dick was being completely smothered by your thick thighs.

A pleased purr rumbled in his chest. "Good girl. Squeeze me just like that."

Pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his cock and smeared against your hot skin, the small beads only adding to the pearls of slick that stained the insides of your thighs. A pleasant tingle raced down your back as his thumbs parted your silky lips like a delicate flower, forcing you to feel more of the sensual drag of his cock over your velvety folds. Your eyelashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as you gripped onto your pillow tighter, head thrown back as stars wavered in your vision.

"General…so good…so close" you moaned between shaky breaths.

Your chest heaved with each laboured breath, tits bouncing with every punctuated jerk of Jing Yuan’s hips. You jolted beneath him with a sharp gasp when his thumb brushed against your pretty clit, giving it much needed attention as he rubbed the bundle of nerves in firm, tight circles. You cried out beneath him as the knot in your stomach tightened, back bending in a beautiful arc as your toes curled into the soles of your feet. You could feel his cock throbbing between your thighs, the thick ridges on the underside of his shaft hitting your soft spots and emptying your head of every single thought until you felt dizzy with bliss. A hand lazily crawled up your chest, cupping one of your trembling breasts and squeezing the soft flesh. You almost bit your tongue when Jing Yuan pinched a rosy tip between his fingers and tugged at the nerve.

"Is my pretty girl going to cum now?" Jing Yuan cooed, thumb pressing down on your clit until the little bud shrieked from the attention.

You nodded, a constellation of tears clinging to your lashes as you writhed under the General’s attention. "Yes" you croaked.

"Then don’t keep me waiting~"

You burst at the seams only a scant few seconds later, unable to hold onto the fraying ends of your sanity as you were intimately ripped apart at the seams. Your hot walls spasmed around nothing, the coil in your stomach shattering as your veins were flooded with white hot relief. You twisted beneath Jing Yuan, moaning his name to the heavens like it was the only word you remembered. A deep growl reverberated in his chest before you felt thick ropes of his seed splatter along your stomach and the insides of your thighs, the tip of his drooling cock pressing hard against your clit as you rode out the last dregs of your pleasure high.

It felt like your heart was in your throat as you tried to regain control of your breathing, legs shaking in Jing Yuan’s grasp as he leaned forward. He pressed your knees to your chest as he loomed over you, lips catching yours in a searing kiss. His breath was hot against your lips as his tongue plunged into your open mouth, spent cock still throbbing against your abdomen when you pressed closer to him. You delved your hands through his thick mane of hair, soft locks curling around your fingers as you tugged sharply on the strands. Jing Yuan groaned into your mouth, teeth catching on your bottom lip as you pulled apart from the kiss.

His eyes sparkled with mirth, fingers dipping beneath the band of your stockings once more and teasing the material with soft tugs. He leaned into your touch as your fingertips massaged his scalp, nails scraping against the back of his head as placed a soft kiss to his chin. His lips moved against yours when he spoke, his warm breath mingling with yours as his mouth ghosted over your skin.

"You should wear these more often" he mused, tugging at your stockings. "But next time, for my eyes only."

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 6

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Eris and Y/N seem to have a knack for putting themselves in unsavory situations. Bonus: Eris has a flashback to the night they met.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Alcohol, Language, Attempted SA

Oh gods. I rolled over slowly only to be met with a wave of nausea and a killer headache. I blinked several times, enough to bring the bedside table into view where a glass of water and a hangover tonic awaited me - at least I had the foresight to brace myself for the impending hell that awaited me after such an intoxicating night out.

It was an effort to pull my arm out from beneath the covers of my bed - which felt so much softer and warmer than usual. I drank a few sips of water and the tonic quickly cured the unease in my stomach but the remnants of the headache still remained. My impetuous little shadows tugged at me to get out of bed but it was just so comfortable - tuning them out I yanked my comforter over my head and drifted back asleep.

——————

Eris

Eris started awake as Y/N roused slightly from her sleep, just enough to find the tonic he’d left on his bedside table for her. Several hours ago, he’d settled in a lounge chair on the opposite side of the bed after she’d spent an hour with her head in the commode, alternating between heaving and berating him for being a “shady motherfucker” all while he held her silken hair back and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

Once she’d completely emptied herself of both the contents of her stomach and insults, she insisted she needed to bathe herself - managing to stumble into the bath tub with her clothes still on and demand “something fried and something bubbly, good sir.”

She refused to undress so he could fill the tub, so he left her there to her own devices while he torched some breaded chicken tenderloins in the kitchen - his fire power really came in handy in times like this - where a five foot whatever heathen was demanding sustenance ASAP. “High Lord my ass.” He mumbled to himself as he carried a tray of seltzer water and her fried chicken into the bathroom… where she was sound asleep in the tub.

Good lord, what had he gotten himself into with this beautiful mess. The mother only knew.

So he’d carried her to the bed, feeling a bit sleazy for changing her out of her dress while asleep but it was either let her rest in a liquor and vomit splattered dress that did everything for her curves and absolutely nothing for comfort… or change her out of it and into one of his cotton tees. Perhaps his male ego beamed slightly at the thought of her sleeping in his shirt but he assured himself that her comfort was his top priority.

He warmed the sheets using his fire magic and tucked her in before setting out the tonic and settling in on the lounge.

————————-

Y/N

When I reawoke, it must have been hours later. Whoever came in and opened the curtains could go to hell as the sunlight filtering in assaulted my eyes.

“Mother’s tits.” I groaned out as I stretched, careful not to turn my head too quickly in an effort of staving any sudden returns of nausea or shooting pains from the headache.

As my eyes slowly began adjusting to the damned sunlight, three things stood out. One: my shadows were swirling in front of me and intertwining with my fingers excitedly. Two: Someone was….cooking? In my bedroom. And as my vision fully cleared, three: This wasn’t my room, it was a fucking studio apartment.

“Owww.” I whined as I turned my head toward the direction of whatever greasy delight was cooking only to see red hair pulled up into a bun, a glorious muscular bare back hindered only by the tie of an apron, and delicious toned legs exposed by cloth shorts hemmed at the mid-thigh.

Mother’s tits indeed. Just when I thought the bastard couldn’t get any hotter.

An opportunist, traitor of a shadow shot away from me, caressing his arm as it handled a pan on the stove.

“Morning sunshine.” Eris purred, not even turning to look at me.

I scrunched my nose, lowering my tone into that of disgust - a futile effort to appear unphased by the sight before me “Why are you here? And where the fuck are we?”

“Always a pleasure to see you too, little one. Breakfast first?”

I desperately wanted to object but the bacon he was cooking smelled delicious and fuck if he didn’t look delicious too.

“Whatever.” I muttered, rolling my eyes at either his ability to tolerate whatever I threw at him or myself for being so internally captivated by the half-naked high lord cooking breakfast for me.

He didn’t need to turn around for me to feel the smirk forming on his lips as he began plating our food.

Breakfast was….. silent. Eris sat in a chair watching me with mischief in his eyes and I did my best to focus on the borderline ecstasy inducing combination of grease and whatever smokey, apple seasoning he’d flavored the bacon with.

After a long ‘bout of silence I finally gave in to his game. “Alright Eris,” His name rolled off my tongue like more honey and less venom than intended. “I’ll bite. Where are we anyway? And how?”

“I told you last night, little love. We’re at my apartment.”

Hazy memories rolled back just a bit. A blur of red, a steadying arm, and-

“In Velaris?”

“Is it so shocking that I invest my funds into properties. How many palacial homes do Rhysand and Feyre have now? More than three, yes?”

I crossed my arms. A bit like a petulant child, yes, but it did the trick as it shelved my breasts perfectly enough that Eris was caught off guard. Good.

I leaned forward, the gap in the neck of my - his shirt allowing a glimpse of the unclothed breasts beneath.

“Quit deflecting.” biting my lip, I leaned in a bit closer tracing a finger along his jaw, over the stubble shadowing the sharp angles of it, my palm then meeting his cheek just lightly enough to make his eyelids flutter as he leaned into it.

A fresh wave of the hangover nausea churned through my stomach causing me to tense, slightly drawing back and breaking the trance I had him in.

Eris tsk’d “Uh uh, clever girl.” His eyes darkened as that stupid, perfect sly smirk of his crossed over his features. “You won’t seduce answers from me, though I do love to see you try.” Letting out a sigh that I could have sworn was a bit condescending he continued, “Had you not ghosted me following our delightful night after Starfall, you’d have known.”

“Perhaps Eris, had you not kept information from me and threatened MY High Lord with violence over whatever you’re keeping from me then I would not have resorted to such measures.”

Eris leaned back in his chair, one leg arrogantly crossed over the other as one elbow rested on an arm of the chair and the other hand’s thumb and pointer finger rubbed curiously at his jaw.

“And how- pray tell, do you know of such violent threats? Nothing came through my end of the bargain tattoo so I know that Rhysand did not inform you.”

“No. You should be smarter, High Lord, about what you say beyond established wards. You never know what little ears may be prying.”

Realization crossed Eris’s features as he pieced together who had heard him.

“I simply stated that there would be retaliation. Your High Lord would reciprocate similarly if there were facets of my end of the bargain being broken.”

I leaned closer, inches away from Eris’ face.

“You can tell me what information is so important that a bargain is required to withhold it from me - or I can leave now.”

I could have sworn pain crossed his face briefly before he cooly said, “I’d hate to see you go, my little shadow but I always enjoy watching you leave.”

“I’m sure you do.” I stood up, swaying my hips as I walked toward the door, powering through the lingering hangover symptoms.

“Taking my shirt with you?”

“Ah, you’re right. Best to leave the dirty laundry here.”

Facing Eris and making a show of so slowly pulling the shirt up over my head, giving a perfect view of the rise and the bounce of my breasts as I tossed his shirt back to him.

“Your dress is covered in vomit and liquor.” Hand gesturing lazily toward the dress hanging over the bathroom door knob.

“Guess you’ll have to stay a while longer.

And damn my stubbornness because this was not a battle I was about to let him win.

“I’m winnowing home, Eris. Fuck the dress.”

“Wards extend to the street, sweetheart.”

I faltered but only for a moment.

I’ve never been ashamed of my body but strutting naked into the streets of Velaris wasn’t ideal.

Eh - C’est la vie

I grinned. A sharp, wicked thing.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled.

Was - was that jealousy? Possessiveness?

And with that, I strutted out of his apartment in only a lace thong.

“Wait!” He called but I didn’t miss a beat.

As I walked into the street, onlookers gawked but I paid no mind. “Y/N! Stop. Come back!” He yelled, grabbing my wrist right as I winnowed to the back door of my home.

“What the fuck was that?” Eris growled, voice low with anger and something else.

I turned to face him as he slung a jacket he’d grabbed on his way out over my shoulders, barely hiding my ass and doing nothing to cover my tits but it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

Had I not still been a bit inebriated from the prior night perhaps I would have remembered I had shadows at my disposal to give at least the illusion of modesty but -

I sobered up quickly as my father stepped out of the door in his leathers - likely headed to meet Uncle Cass before heading to Windhaven - only to be greeted by his mostly naked daughter and half-naked High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Icy rage and total discomfort crossed his features, his shadows shooting out to cover me.

The war of emotions was palpable as he clenched his fists, siphons glowing, eyes shooting daggers straight through Eris.

Eris tensed before dropping his typical arrogant bastard mask into place. “Greetings Spymaster.” An arrogant smirk plastered onto his face.

Father’s jaw clenched and his fists fought a battle of wills as if he’d beat Eris to a pulp right then and there. Finally he managed to ground out, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

——————————-

Eris flashback

The prior night

Y/N let out a rather loud snore in her drunken slumber, stirring him from the sleep he’d just begun drifting off to. Her hair had fallen over her face and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and gently tucking it behind her ear.

“Mm, Eris” she whispered in her sleep followed by the slightest upward twitch of her lips.

Fuck - it was so hard sometimes. He wasn’t a perfect male but he did his best to do right by those he cared about.

Sometimes he had to distance himself from her to prevent himself from laying it all bare - tell her everything instead of letting her believe him to be the “sneaky motherfucker”. She was so young, sure in fae society five years, fifty years, five-hundred years age difference, nobody batted an eye but he’d lived so much life compared to her less than thirty.

Amusement and longing rang through him as he took care of her intoxicated ass tonight, reminding him of the night out that brought them together in the first place.

Lucien and Vassa were busy in the Day Court and Adish was going out with a couple of friends - visiting a new tavern in a recently modernized town in the northeastern territory of the Autumn Court. The town itself was safe but there were still the ocasional ruffians passing through. Lucien had requested that Eris send eyes out to ensure their protection. Something urged him to just go himself and damn, he’d never stop being grateful that he did.

The evening itself was boring. Mostly high fae but even lesser fae who had become adjusted to the “new era” ushered in with his reign came out to the tavern. There were harsh punishments for unjust violence within the Autumn Court now. Still, there was so much change needed but it would come in time. His people were rather set in their ways but a new justice system was starting to usher in change.

He nursed a beer in a corner booth, catching the eyes of plenty of fae nearby but managing to avoid the attention of Adish and his crew - which included Nyx Archeron and the little Shadowsinger who he’d heard was quickly rising in their ranks.

Nyx and Adish had both wandered off with a couple of gorgeous females with the classic red hair of his Court along with interestingly enough, Tamlin’s daughter. Layla - if he recalled correctly.

Interesting.

His attention caught as he noticed two brutes who were definitely not from here vying for the little Shadowsinger’s attention. He chuckled to himself as she waived them off, turning back to a group of females she’d stumbled out of the bathroom with. She danced without a care, holding one hand in the air as her shadows steadied her wrist in an effort to prevent spillage.

He’d give it to Rhysand’s Shadowsinger and the Archeron sister who nearly broke his brother’s heart, they passed down all of their best genetics to the stunning female on the dance floor.

The males continued irritating her, going so far as to cut her off from the group by dancing their way between them. She kept dancing but he could have sworn she was letting them cut her off, despite the obvious malicious intentions the males had for her. As they backed her to a quieter portion of the dance floor the larger male grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards the door. She shook her head no but he kept pulling as the other male corralled her from behind. Eventually she waived off the grip on her wrist and walked out with them.

Fuck. He really had no interest in lighting anybody’s asses up tonight but someone had to get the trash out of his court. And despite the fact that he and Azriel were never the best of friends, his daughter deserved more than to be ignored due to their indifferences.

So he sighed, exited out the front door and strode toward the alleyway the other entrance had led to. As he rounded the corner, he came to a halt, lurking in the shadows and taking in a sight that he hadn’t anticipated.

The Shadowsinger sat unbothered on top of a barrel with an elbow on the knee that crossed over her opposite leg. Her face filled with complete and utter boredom as she rolled her eyes at the males bound in shadow before her.

“You couldn’t have just let me be, huh boys? I was having fun with the girls in there too.

I suppose I should thank you though. After all, you won me my next three rounds of drinks. You see, the girls and I had a bet on how quickly you’d give in to your sleazy nature.

One of them bet two hours, another an hour, and me? I know a pig when I see one. Less than thirty minutes from the first time you hit on me and, well, here we are boys.”

The males couldn’t speak through the gags her shadows had placed on their mouths but the rage was apparent in their squeals.

“Anyway, since you were so desperate to find release tonight, I’ve decided to help… remedy the situation.”

With a snap of the wrist and the exception of their underwear, their clothes disappeared while the shadows binds remained in place.

She gave them each a once over and a disapproving laugh, withdrawing the shadows that were gagging them.

“Alright boys, I’ve so generously removed your gags as a thank you for helping me win my bet. You may kiss eachother now.”

The males gaped. The burlier of the two seemed to lack the understanding of the fact that he was at the disadvantage in this situation. “You little whor-“

“Uh uh.” She wagged her finger. Shadows aiming at him like daggers. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. Not that it seems anyone ever taught you manners. Pity.”

The males were visually appalled. Glancing back and forth between her and eachother as if saying “what now?”

Both males fought the restraints to no avail as the little Shadowsinger grinned with amusement at the predicament she’d put them in.

“Honestly, I should just have my shadows castrate you. Would that be more appealing? You two seemed perfectly inclined to share me, what’s a kiss between friends?”

“Please. Sorry - just let us go.” The smaller of the two pleaded.

“Once you kiss - perhaps I’ll consider. Best do it soon though, I’d hate for the little situations beneath your underwear to be revealed to the patrons of this lovely establishment when my friends come looking for me.”

The males glanced once more at eachother, leaning closely in, still hesitating but resigning themselves to their fate.

When their lips were mere centimeters apart, she held up a hand. “Ah- just a moment, boys. We have company.”

Eris started at the comment. Looking down he found a shadow winding around his ankle - was he imagining things or was it almost playful?

“High Lord.” She mused. “How do you dispose of the trash in your court?”

Mask in place, he casually stepped out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets and a devilish grin on his face.

Her gaze fixed on him. Her beauty even more striking up close, and her scent - utterly mouth watering. And when his eyes met hers

Snap.

He knew then and there that he was wholehearted and irrevocably hers for the rest of his days.

He’d wait another 500 for it to snap for her too if he had to.

She was his mate. His.

————————-

A/N: Sorry (kind of) for always leaving you all on chaotic little cliffhangers. I hope the flashback made up for the torture at least a little bit!! 😏

Tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin

[three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat]

Memory in Stardew Valley is kinda fucked

So, memory in Stardew Valley is almost like a tangible thing, and I wanna talk about it. I mean technically speaking, you can sell it, trade it, swap it, bop it, twist it and so on and so forth. Why do I wanna talk about it? Because I have no social life and the only thing I can feel is the rage of my ancestors as I harvest yet another batch of ancient fruit wine.

Most people know about the Dark Shrine of Memory, the fun statue that wipes your ex's memories for a quick buck. Now that's pretty neat and all, but I think this leads to further interpretation I'm sure Concerned Ape wouldn't think is relevant but I'm gonna push it.

Someone had to put that statue there. I don't think it's the witch, because she has to shell up 30 big ones every time another thirsty wizard comes along. Also, Rasmodius still has his memories of them, and if I were her I wouldn't want a guy like Razzle-Dazzle thinking about her. And it's probably vice-versa, as the witch still curses the town from time to time to spite the purple-haired goblin.

Mr Qi would be a reasonable guess, especially since you have to pay to use it, and he is known to have several marketing schemes around the place, but this one doesn't feel like him. I think there's another powerful creature out and about, they've stumbled across a way to erase memories and are using it for profit. The witch is just a tool behind the mastermind.

On top of the memory shrine, the Dark Shrine of Selfishness also contains a portion of memory magic. No one remembers the children that disappeared. No one except the farmer. Perhaps some immunity comes with being a fallen god, or perhaps it's simply because they're the ones that paid, so they are cursed to forever remember their sin. Either way, considering the fact that two of the statues directly erase memories, there's something interesting going on.

Another aspect of memories that people don't often think about is resetting days. Now this does reach a fair bit into undertale, but I think it applies pretty well here too. Days can loop over and over again, and no one will remember any of them, except for the Farmer. With the knowledge and foresight of what's happening, the Farmer can escape danger and the villagers know no better. There is perhaps only two other people in Stardew who might have an idea of what's going on. The Witch, and Mr Qi.

The witch is obvious, she has the shrines in her house, but from Mr Qi's dialogue, we can gleam an idea of what he may know.

I got to where I am through the force of pure willpower, kid. You see... The mind is a very powerful tool. In fact, it's the most powerful tool in all of reality... and beyond

“Some things transcend time and space, kid. It's a unique feeling in the heart... a whisper of things beyond.”

Now it could be pretty easy to interpret this a hundred different ways, but I want to link it to memory right now. The specific wording states that Mr Qi might be aware of resetting save files and that memories can be erased. I don't think he can alter other people's memories (though we don't know enough about him to be sure), but he may have found a way to keep his own memories safe.

Perhaps it's even how he found the Farmer. One day, he wakes up again, and he knows it's the same day. This happens sometimes, and he's forced to live the same day twice, three times or even more sometimes. He seeks out the source of the issue and stumbles across the farmer. On the surface, they seem like a regular person, until one day, the day resets again and the Farmer acts like they've done it a thousand times, taking every right move in the mines and getting everything they failed to do in the last attempt.

I think Mr Qi would want to keep an eye on someone like that.

From all of this, I have come to a conclusion. The statues present the idea of memory, but they also show that memory magic can be used to accomplish very specific tasks. We've only seen a few examples, but it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that memory could be distorted a thousand different ways in Stardew. Perhaps none of the memories you have of your neighbour are real, and they never existed before yesterday. Or your parents actually died when you were three and you were raised by the spirits of hell. You actually have the memories of your best friend who died last week. Who knows?

Nothing is real, reality is an illusion.

[uhzuku]

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑! | 𝐒. 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: tell me that you want me, that's the shit i always hear!

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: aizawa shouta/m!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 4.00k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: t4t, transmasc aizawa, transmasc reader, switch aizawa, switch reader, daddy kink, reader and aizawa both still have pussies, age gap ( aizawa is 30 & reader is in their early 20s ), use of the word cunt a couple times?? once at least, ✨guyliner✨, public sex ( in a changing room ), BUSH! PUBES! DA WHOLE JUNGLE!, reader is a fucking freak for aizawa ngl, t-dick haver aizawa ( moans ), clits referred to as cocks ( bc yum ), scissoring, grinding, fingering, blowjobs, vibrators.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have no willpower when it comes to this man, so happy pride, fuckers. | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃! — @suyacho @p-ersus @herohibiscus @cathybarn @suzuki-violin-school @choerry-picking @fyodior @satorusdivinity .

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Tick, tick, tick, tick. 

The large clock hanging on the far wall of the fancy boutique you and your boyfriend were in echoes loudly in your ears. On your lap in front of you is a small spread of paperwork, tests you were helping him grade in between trying on new clothes  for a get-together with the other teachers that was only a couple days away. You’d already decided on a dark green sweater with a pair of dark brown pants and a matching winter jacket, but Shouta had been indecisive; he quite honestly didn’t want to go to the little event at all, but after both consistent whining from his two friends and you adding in how happy it would make them he’d eventually sighed and agreed. 

“This should be fine for the thing Nem’s throwing, right?” Comes his voice from the changing room as he flicks open the lock, and you can hear the discomfort in his voice — not from the clothes, as he’d picked those out himself with only a little input from you on the pants, but from how long today had gone on. He’d been indecisive all afternoon, uncommonly more self-conscious than usual, and was getting tired — and if you were completely honest you weren’t far behind him; it had been a long day of shopping, and you could only thank your foresight to order two new pairs of comfortable dress shoes ahead of time so the trip wouldn’t be drawn out even further. Were they really needed? No, you both had a pair at home — but why not go all out? At the very least it would make Nemuri and Hizashi happy, which was all you and Shouta ever really wanted.  

You glance up from marking Ashido’s frankly confusing essay and are startled by the large lump that settles itself comfortably in your throat. Your partner is standing there in the doorway, looking as awkward as he clearly feels, but by God his hair is pulled back in a messy bun and the black turtleneck he’d picked clings to him oh-so-well. The grey slacks you’d helped him pick out fit just as perfectly as you’d known they would, and you have to make the conscious decision to swallow the drool that had began pooling in your mouth. 

“Well?” he asks, trying and failing to hide the soft nervous edge in his voice, and you blink a few times to clear your head before nodding. This wasn’t the time to want to drop to your knees, you had to make sure he felt comfortable. 

“Oh, absolutely. Those’re the ones, if you like ‘em as much as I do. Those’re it,” you ramble, your eyes drinking him in greedily as he sends you the tiniest of fond smiles. “Get back in there ‘nd take your clothes off and we might be able to pick up food from your favorite place on the way home.” 

That’s seemingly more than enough incentive for him and, with a blatantly relieved heavy exhale, he retreats back into the changing room, which almost immediately is filled with the sound of cloth ruffling as he changes back into the dark jeans and loose navy sweater he’d come shopping in. You sit there idly, your pen tapping against your lip, before you groan and shove all of the first year class’s tests into the folder Shouta had brought them in and rush over to the door. 

You knock hard and fast, startling him judging by the slightly surprised grunt that you hear from inside, and upon Shouta opening the door a little with his hair ever so slightly messier from pulling on the shirt he’d come in you force yourself inside, locking the door behind you. His eyes are wide and startled as he takes you in, and it would almost be funny if you weren’t so god-forsakenly horny for him right now. You’d not expected that the sight of him all dressed up would get you this fucking hard and wanting, but really that was on you; your boyfriend was sexy as hell in nothing but a stained t-shirt and boxers with a line of dried drool still on his face from a deep, well-enjoyed sleep and you’d be raring to go just from the sight of him ( in any setting, really ), so you should’ve known that your paper-thin willpower would crumble and you’d pin him in the changing room like you were currently. 

“What the fuck-?” He starts, surprised as you corrall him back against one of the walls, far too focused on the way you had straddled and were subtly grinding on the thigh he’d unconsciously stuck between your legs as he’d backed up.

“Need you — take your fucking pants back off,” you whisper pleasingly, nipping at his stubbled jaw and tugging at his belt loops insistently. His rough hands find yours and squeeze, and you can hear the way his breathing picks up a little as he gets into it. 

“What?!” he asks, wide-eyed in alarm as he glances back at the locked changing room door. It may be locked, but the two of you were in public — you could be caught at any fucking second, and you could be arrested. Heat pools in his lower stomach at the thought, and for a brief moment, Shouta’s brain stutters as he begins considering what he’d just learned about himself. 

Fuck. He likes it. 

“Pants off, now!” you repeat ever-so-grumpily while he has this little revelation, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. You don’t miss the way his dark eyes follow it without missing a beat as he raises an eyebrow, his own tongue flicking out to mirror your movement. 

“Why?”

“Gotta suck your fuckin’ cock babe,” you groan, grinding low and hard against his knee. Your own hard cock is pinned perfectly between your crotch and his thigh, and you moan lowly into the empty air as a familiar twinge twists through your belly. “Need it in my mouth, please.”

His hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his jeans for a moment before pushing them down to pool around his muscled thighs, and a soft whine bubbles up in your throat at the sight of him. He’s hard, like you knew he would be, and you moan at the very thought of getting to taste him, dropping to your knees and yanking his jeans off the rest of the way before throwing one of his legs over your shoulder. If anyone were to walk in they’d see all of him, and that just wasn’t allowed — so obviously taking him into your mouth to potentially save his modesty was the only correct course of action! You were so thoughtful.

“Stay still,” you grunt, biting at his inner thigh before licking up from his taint all the way to his swollen cock. You don’t miss the way his thighs quiver around your head, or the way his own head falls back against the wall with a slightly harsh thud as he bites his fist to keep from whimpering — which just wouldn’t do at all.

One of your hands spreads out against his soft stomach, slowly sliding down along the trail of hair that made you drool every time all the way into the thick bush of pubes surrounding his cock. He shifts against the wall, looking down at you with his brow furrowed while throwing one arm back against said wall with his own free hand splayed flat as if it would steady him when he knows that it wouldn’t once you really got your mouth on him — and it didn’t. When you take him all the way into your mouth a sharp cry is muffled only by his fist and the urge to buck up into you is almost impossible to fight off, but you were already chiding him for moving against the wall. 

“I said be still,” you growl around your mouthful, ghosting your teeth ever so gently ( torturously ) along the length of his cock as you pull off it for a brief moment before taking him back in your mouth all over again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—!” he whispers into where he was biting his hand, tiny tears springing up in his eyes as you drop him from your mouth all over again only to replace your tongue with fingers slicked from your own juices — and hems not much better. He’s absolutely dripping, his slickness soaking his cunt and running down his inner thighs; as you jerk his aching cock with one hand you lap it all up greedily, looking up at him through your thick lashes and grinning as you bite him again. The leg you had thrown over your shoulder pulls you closer, holding you tight against him as you bury your tongue in his entrance and have a taste from the source, and you laugh like the bastard you are when a soft wail escapes his mouth and the way his teeth dig into his palm. 

“Yeah, that’s it baby, just like that,” you croon cruelly as he gets closer and closer to coming in a changing room of all places. “It’s okay, you can come for me, you have permission…”

A sharp whine is the only response you get, and you just chuckle again and swap places with your fingers, taking him back into your mouth while gently crooking first your middle finger then your index inside him, your other hand carefully lifting him so his other leg also is thrown over your shoulder, leaving him bent in half and pressed against the wall while you suck him off. 

He unclenches his teeth from around his palm and slaps it against the back of your head, curling his fingers in your hair and tugging as you curl your fingers against his sweet spot and lap cruelly at his cock and slit. “God, please-!” he moans pleasingly, and you pull off of him and laugh. 

“There’s no God here, sweet boy,” you murmur mockingly, eyes glittering as you watch him begin to fall apart. “There’s only me and the fingers I’ve shoved up your greedy cunt.”

“Fuck!” he gasps, and bucks up into your mouth with one of his hands clamped over his mouth as his eyes flutter and roll back in his head as you work him over. His cunt clenches around you, milking your fingers greedily, and shaky moans fall from between his fingers like musical notes from an instrument. You don’t let up, sucking his cock and fingering him through his orgasm as he moans and cries into his palm. At some point while you’d been teasing him tears had sprung up in his eyes and had now started running down his cheeks — not much, just three little drops, but they were a sign of a job well done, and as you helped him down from your shoulders onto shaky legs and sat back on your calves with a dirty grin, he glares at you. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses through gritted teeth, knees shaking ever so slightly, and you just gather the juices he’d left on your lips and chin with your thumb before sucking it clean, never breaking eye contact with him. You knew he’d enjoyed himself and that he was just a little embarrassed, and you weren’t offended in the slightest. After all, between getting cursed at and getting to hear the way he’d moaned so prettily for you, it was a fair exchange in your opinion. 

“What can I say? I missed lunch,” you purr, standing then pulling him down to your height to kiss him slow and deep. He moans softly into your mouth, melting into your touch like always until you reluctantly pull away, picking up the pants and shirt. 

“I should get dressed,” he mutters, and you nod with a small grin. 

“Yeah, you should,” you agree, throwing the clothes over one arm. “I’ll collect all the paperwork for your class and meet you by the register. I promised you your favorite takeout, and after that performance, you’re definitely getting it.”

You don’t have to look at him to know how hot his cheeks are burning from embarrassment, and you fight off the urge to snicker when he hisses a strained, “I hate you!” your way. 

“Didn’t sound that way a couple minutes ago!” you respond in a sing-song voice, gently closing. the door and doing exactly as you’d said you would. a minute or so after the transaction goes through, Shouta makes his appearance from the back, walking into view on still-shaky legs. He shoots you a half-hearted glare, but still sidles up to you and grabs at your hand. 

“Food now,” he grunts quietly, “Then home.” You nod. 

“Yeah, babe, food and then home.”

“Don’t forget that we have the thing Nem’s hosting tonight, hun,” you call over your shoulder without tearing your eyes from the mirror, ever so carefully drawing a line of eyeliner on your top eyelid. A groan, muffled by a pillow, is the initial response you get and you fight hard to not laugh and jostle yourself. 

“You told me this morning, then texted at lunch,” comes a voice just as muffled as the groan you’d gotten, Shouta’s voice filled with such bother that you have to take away the eyeliner stick before you either stab yourself or make it look like you were wearing face paint. Instead of risking it again, you quickly swipe some onto your bottom lid then begin to smudge it out, smiling when he starts the complaining you knew was coming. “Do we really have to go? Nemuri and Hizashi won’t be surprised if we don’t, they know we don’t like going out. We could skip it.”

“We could, yeah,” you say softly, and you practically hear his ears metaphorically perk up before you crush his hopes and dreams when you say, “But we are going. We promised her, after all.”

“Why?!” He whines, face-planting back into the pillow, and you laugh for real this time, turning and looking at him with a grin while blowing some hair out of your eyes. One of your favorite parts of dating Shouta was being trusted with the hidden parts of him, the parts where he allowed himself to be whiny and greedy instead of a grump who acted like he was unshakeable. Honestly, maybe those damn kids of his were also helping him loosen up some ( the first class he’d kept all twenty of and even added one to! apparently miracles can happen! ), and you considered it a good sign. 

“Because we’re such good friends,” you say through a smile, crossing your arms. He pulls up from the pillow to throw a half-hearted, meaningless glare your way, only for his eyes to widen a little. You raise an eyebrow, barely masking your concern as you watch how he watches you, and you’re about to ask if everything is alright when you notice just how wide his pupils have blown and suddenly quiver in the knees ever so slightly. 

That tiny bit of an opening is all it takes, and before you know it your boyfriend’s flipped off the couch and is stalking towards you, looking wholly like a god to worship ( which you would ). His hands, big and rough and strong, grab at your hips with one while the other grips your chin and tilts your face up seconds before locking lips with you in a kiss that has your head spinning. 

“Bed, now,” he murmurs into your mouth, his tongue arcing across yours moments before he bites at your bottom lip. He keeps kissing you, leading you towards the bedroom while tugging off his clothes and yours in return. 

“Shouta, baby, we’ll be late-!” you whimper, and he scoffs, yanking you into the bedroom.

“Who fuckin’ cares?” he grunts noncommittally, kicking his underwear away and tugging at your own. “Nem’ll be happy just to see us show up at all, she won’t give a damn if we’re late.”

Knowing he was right and that you couldn’t really argue with that ( And did you even want to? Hell no. ) you just let him manhandle you onto your back on the bed, tilting your head to the side so he can bite and kiss his way across your neck in the way you both like. 

You moan softly as he sucks a love bite into the side of your jaw where it just met your neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair only for him to grab both of your wrists in one hand and slam them onto the mattress above your head. One of his knees nestles itself between your legs and begins to grind against your dick, and you groan as a familiar heat makes itself known in your belly. 

“F-Fuck, Shouta, please-!” you moan, hooking a leg behind his knee to stabilize yourself as you grind down on his knee while still on your back. He laughs and takes his knee away, and you curse under your breath as he climbs onto the bed and laces his legs around yours together before yanking hard enough that your crotches slam together. In your mind you praise anyone listening for your boyfriend’s thick thighs, your nails digging into his skin as he starts rolling his hips against yours while digging around in the drawer of his nightstand for lube. 

After a minute or so he finds it and, not even bothering to stop grinding, squeezes a fair amount between the two of you. As intended, each roll of your hips becomes smoother and easier, and for a moment the two of you do nothing but pant and moan as your dicks and cunts grind together. Words aren’t easy, and you get to watch with greedy eyes and a drool-filled mouth as Shouta’s head falls back, his mouth open as he moans for you. His fingers on one hand clench at the sheets and blankets while the other reaches out for you, and you lock fingers with him and squeeze while the two of you grind. With every deep roll of your hips, Shouta’s cock dips inside for the briefest second before slowly grinding up your slit and rolling over your own smaller cock, each thrust making your thighs shake and your hole clench around nothing. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!” Shouta groans, sitting up and grabbing one of your legs. He holds it up and grips your thigh tight, straddling your other leg before mashing your cunts together and grinding down hard.  Your eyes roll back a little and you let out loud whimpers intermingled with pants of his name. Faintly your mind registers the sound of something rattling near you, but you don’t lay it any mind until the sound and feeling of harsh vibrations pressed against your and Shouta’s cock make you shriek. Your eyes fly open and you grab at your boyfriend’s shoulders in surprise, eyes wide as you watch the way he groans and angles the vibrating wand just right and hits your cocks perfectly. 

“Oh G-God — fuck, Daddy, please!” you moan, nails digging into his back. He just moans out your name and grinds down harder, thrusting up into the bulbed head of the vibrator as well as your own cock. 

“That’s right, baby boy, call for Daddy,” he growls, pressing down hard enough to make you see stars. “Wanna feel you cum on me, baby, just like always.” His hips don’t even stutter once, and in the back of your mind you know he’s holding off from coming so he can watch you fall apart first. Typically you’d be fighting to make him come first ( because who says a little competitiveness in the bedroom is unhealthy? No one! ) but you were too close and he’d been too sexy throwing you around and manhandling you, then mounting you like the two of you were a couple of beasts in heat, and now grinding his cock and cunt against you? You never stood a chance. 

The knot that had been tying itself in your stomach with each roll of his hips starts tugging itself tighter and tighter, and sharp whines and cries punctuate the air as he kicks up the speed of the vibrator a couple of notches. “Fuck yes — More, more, so close!” You dry sob, trying not to cry when you know that your eyeliner looks so nice and you have a place to be in an hour and a half or so. 

“The fuck was that?” He snaps, pulling up to slap your cunt cruelly and make you shriek again before slamming himself and the vibrator back down on you to continue grinding. “You know fucking better, baby, try again.”

“Please, Daddy, please let me cum!” you beg, one tear running down your cheek. “Fuck, I wanna cum, please? Can I? Please?”

A sharp groan falls from his lips and his hips stutter ever so slightly, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, baby boy, cum for Daddy — cum all over Daddy’s cock!”

Your nails dig deep into his bicep and your eyes roll back as you thrust up unto him hard, your free leg not thrown over his shoulder bracing against the mattress as the two of you race to completion while clinging to each other like one of you could possibly disappear. The knot gets tighter, then tighter, then finally snaps and the wave of euphoria you’d been chasing washes over you like a tidal wave. 

“Fuck — Fuck, cumming, cumming! Shouta, fuck!” With a shriek of your boyfriend’s name cum gushes from your hole and soaks both your boyfriend’s crotch  and the blankets beneath you both, and deep, desperate grunts from above you signal how your own boyfriend has started cumming as well. Soft murmurs and groans of your name fall from his lips as he clicks off the vibrator and tosses it to the side on the bed, but the feeling of the vibrations continue for a moment as the two of you continue to grind slowly, occasionally jerking from the overstimulation, before slowing to a stop to catch your breath. 

The two of you lay there together, chests heaving, and soak up the afterglow of your orgasms while an alarm rings in the distance, telling you it was time to leave. After a moment you groan and sit up, throwing your quivering legs over the side of the bed then staggering to the bathroom on shaky legs. “I’m going to leave you for Snipe, I swear to God,” you whine, looking at yourself in the mirror and taking in how rocked you look. Shouta laughs from the bed as he sits up and stretches, watching your reflection in the mirror from the bed. “I mean it! He’d never do this to me.”

“That’s cause he’s boring,” Shouta purrs, stalking up behind you and pressing his front to your back and fitting against you perfectly like always. “He couldn’t handle you if he tried. That’s my job.” You make a face at him in the mirror, ignoring his soft snicker and beginning fixing your hair. 

“You’re damn lucky the staff knows I smudge my eyeliner on purpose, otherwise everyone would know,” you grumble in faux annoyance, and he just chuckles and clings to your back, burying his face in the crux between your neck and shoulder. His long hair tickles against your bare skin. 

“Nem’ll know anyway,” he murmurs as the two of you clean up, occasionally flinching from touching something still oversensitive. “Zashi too, I bet.”

“Of course they will,” you groan, covering your face with one arm as Shouta wipes cum from your thighs. “They always know.” 

He just laughs again. “Let’s just go. We should get dressed again.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “…Do we have to?”

Shouta sends you a dry, deadpan look ( as if asking ‘You’re fucking kidding me, right?’ ), and you laugh. 

“Fine, fine, lets go!”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam set the special plant down on the night side table. After what happened last time he didn't want to risk it getting broke again.

He really loved that garden, almost as much as he loved the devil who made it for him. "Luci, do you know of any plants foreign to Pride that I could grow here?"

Lucifer thought about it for a minute. "Wrath has some that are on the more man eating side if you're looking for a challenge."

"Ooou that sounds fun! Can we go to Wrath this weekend?" Even if the whole ring was filled with hick imps.

Lucifer smiled. "Sure, it'll be a good outing for us."

Adam crawled into bed and placed a kiss on his boyfriends cheek. "Thanks." When he pulled away, Adam sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"

Lucifer paused, he put his book down and sniffed as well. "Smells like smoke." The sound of glass bursting caught their attention. They ran over to the window and the sight floored them.

Adam gasped. "My fucking greenhouse!" He took off out of their room to the garden that was set ablaze.

"Adam, wait!" Lucifer ran after him. He didn't need him to do something reckless.

They got to the garden doors, flames and smoke pouring out the broken windows. Adam went to touch the door but hissed when the knob burnt his hand. "Fuck!"

"Hold on!" Lucifer brought out his wings and used them to create a huge gust of wind that blew the doors open and extinguished the fire.

Adam looked in with devastation, his hands flew to his mouth, he felt his eyes get wet. Who the fuck would do this? "No...." He walked in, every plant was chared, burnt beyond help. Everything in the greenhouse was destroyed. "It's all fucking gone." Adam let a sob slip out.

Lucifer tried to find something among the remains that survived but there was nothing. A puddle on the ground shined, he placed his hand in it and sniffed.

Holy oil. So he couldn't just fix it.

"Where would anyone get this around here?" Lucifer wondered aloud. When he heard Adam sobbed he went to him. "Hey, it'll be okay. We can clean up and replant."

"That's two years of work literally up in fucking smoke. How did this...." Adam cried into his hands.

Lucifer held him and guided him out of the ruined greenhouse, there was nothing they could do right now. He just happened to look down the hallway, an evil smiling shadow dissolved when it noticed him.

He would have gone after that fucker if Adam hadn't have been so upset.

Adam sat in their bed holding the only remaining flower that came from his greenhouse. He was glad he had the foresight to bring this one to their room. He cried silently as he gazed at the flower.

Lucifer just wanted to take his pain away. He may not be able to take away Adam's pain but he knew who he was going to give pain to. "I'm gonna go downstairs, do you want anything?"

Adam just shook his head no, slowly.

"Okay." Lucifer placed a kiss in his hair before he left.

He had a fucking deer to hunt.

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 3)

Word Count - 3.7k

Summary - It’s been a couple months since you last had contact with Lt. Simon Ghost Riley. While you are repairing your tarnished reputation, Simon is on the other side working from the shadows and doing everything he can to take back his words. It isn’t until the three-month marker that you finally face him again, this time you’re willing to hear him out. If only because you guys are going to be team members.               

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - as we near the end of this storyline I would like to thank everyone for their love and support and I appreciate every one of you guys 🤍🤍🤍  I am also going to post a brief POV from Ghost later, and one more part, two at tops.   

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2   

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form   

It had been a month since you last spoke with Ghost and since then you learned three things. The first was that he truly was a ghost. He haunted hallways and existed only in rumors and whispers. He made himself seen only when he wanted to be. For the rest of his assignment, he kept his distance. You figured since you have yet to see him it was because he was better at spotting you first and turning in the other direction. Soap would still drop by and fill you in on the latest 141 gossip. It didn’t go over your head that Soap never had any gossip about Ghost. Never once did Soap mention him. Whether Soap figured out that something had gone down on his own or forced it out of Ghost himself was a mystery. You didn’t have the energy or care to ask. 

The second is that whatever he had been previously telling the higher up was either rescinded or someone had put in a good word about you. If it was Ghost or not, you also didn’t know. Nor did it matter if it was him, the damage was done. You put your hand up for every opportunity, followed every rule, and every patient that came to you left you with positive feedback. You were an HR dream.     

The third was that you missed his company. Even a month after you were still fuming, still ready to rip his tongue out should you see him again. Still heartbroken and yet some part of you still missed Ghost. You kept a very tight leash on that part of you and squashed it beneath your boot. How was it fair that his fuck up, and his selfishness resulted in you losing a friend. It wasn’t, and that’s what you were most bitter about. 

After two months, you have decided to let go of the anger and hurt. It wasn’t going to help you now. You kept yourself preoccupied with work and more work. You were still based in the new camp, now dubbed Fort Cardinal, which has since become one of the biggest bases.     

You were just leaving the mess hall after breakfast when you were intercepted in the hallway. 

“L/n?” the private asked.

“Yes?” your brows furrowed. 

“Crawford wants to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

Crawford was the commanding officer, and when he summoned someone to his office it could mean only a few things. Most of them were bad. You pivoted and headed towards HQ. You might have taken the scenic route too. Pausing at the entrance to Crawfords office.  “Sir,” you stood by the doorway waiting for your CO to acknowledge you, “you requested I come to see you.” 

He looked up from the files splayed out on his desk, “Take a seat.”

You pulled out a chair opposite him, your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your pants. Racking your brain to try and remember if you had done something wrong, or inappropriate, but came up blank. 

“How many years have you been with us?” he questioned, folding his hands over the papers.

“Four, Sir,” you straightened your back and squared your shoulders.    

He stared at you for a second, his face hard, before nodding and looking back to the papers. They were your files. A collection of reports and logs and records, “It’s of my understanding that you’ve voiced your desire for a transfer.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Since your enlistment, your peers and superiors have had nothing but good things to say about you. Your records show that you excelled in both the field and the classroom. Never missed a work day, never late,” he began listing things off from the note in front of him. You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or irritated, and it was psyching you out. He paused as he flipped through, “Have you fully recovered from your injury?” 

“Healed like a dream,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile. It did, after the first couple of weeks you were back at work in full force. 

“Good to hear,” he flipped a page back so it was facing you, “Any idea what this might have been for?” It would have looked the same as any other report aside from the fact that it was entirely redacted. Whatever was written beneath had been obscured by a thick black line. 

You leaned forward, your smile fading into a frown. You shook your head, “I have no idea. No.” This was the first time you saw your files all laid out like this, so you were just as lost as him. Whoever redacted it must have been of higher status than him if even he didn’t know. Then again, you weren’t sure about what happened behind closed doors. You met his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking and when you couldn’t you wanted to melt into your seat. 

“There’s been an opening,” he leaned back in his chair, “Aerospace medicine has requested a combat medic. It’ll be a one year contract. Should you take this position you will be sent out for a three week training program and your first assignment will be right after that. ”

If it weren’t for those four years of service and learning that people like your CO didn’t like a show of emotions you would have hopped around his office. So, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“The captain of Special Task Forces 141 has requested you himself for their next mission.”

Your heart dropped.  

“Captain Price?” you echoed. Maybe it was a different 141. 

“Correct,” he waved a hand, his patience shortening, “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” you answered before you could think it over, and he excused you before you could process your answer. This was what you had been asking for, what you were working towards, and now that it had been offered to you you were left uneasy. Working with the 141 was an honour and a nod to your capabilities. It also meant working with Lt. Simon Riley. You couldn’t unscramble your feelings about the implications. 

You determined that professionalism would yield the best outcome.  

You were packed and heading out for your training by lunch.    

When you entered the briefing room, it was as relaxed as you expected from the 141. Which was not at all. The air was thick and sober. You were half an hour early and still the last to arrive.

“Morning,” Price stepped around the table everyone was surrounding. 

“Good morning,”  you replied, making your way to the table. Laswell met up with you during your training to give you a rundown on what to expect. You were going to be their combat medic, yes, but you could fight and shoot just as well as any other soldier. You even had the grounds to brag about your close combat skills. Laswell was visibly pleased when you told her your dad forced you into mixed martial arts when you were ten years old, and could take down a full-grown man like he was a bag of flour. 

You scanned the table and the map splayed out was a replica of the one Laswell had provided. You tried to hide the smile and pointed to the empty medicine vial on the map, “Is that supposed to be me?” 

“Aye,” Soap puffed his chest out, “that was my doing.” 

When you looked up at Soap, you purposefully ignored the large burly man dressed in all black beside him, “Creative,” you noted how Ghost seemed to shrink back into the shadows at your indifference towards him. 

Soap had actually picked everyone's avatar, a sniper bullet, a lighter, a toy skeleton, and an angel wing that looked like it used to be a necklace, and a battery. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the figurines or the fact that everyone accepted them. 

Price ran through the plan, the target, and his expectations of everyone. He revealed that the target was going to be “Cameron Rowe” , a former sergeant turned rogue. His headshot was stabbed into the table with a knife. You recognized it as Ghosts, the blade usually fixed to his thigh. 

“Since we have no real idea as to where Rowe will be we’ll be splitting off into teams.”         You had to suck your lips into your mouth to keep from making an argument when Price moved your vial next to the skeleton on the map.  “Soap and Laswell with nest at the top of these two buildings,” he pointed to the two highrises in front and behind Rowe’s apartment building. “Doc and Ghost will take watch at the port,” he dragged his finger to the loading docs, which was usually Rowe’s meeting place. “Gaz and I will be tailing his informers and hopefully, catch them in the act.” 

You had a sneaking suspicion they stuck you with Ghost was to balance out the teams. Ghost was a one man army, you were basically going to keep him company. Or so they thought. You didn’t plan on sharing a single conversation with him, and you knew you could easily hold your own. The 141 had plans of not only taking down Rowe but finding out whoever he was working with. So, they couldn’t just pick him off in his apartment building. 

After the briefing and everyone knew their role people started to filter back out. You stayed behind to speak with Price, having a few questions of your own.

“Captain,” you started and he turned back around, “Why ask for me?” This assignment was only temporary, you weren’t a part of the 141, but Price could have picked anyone in the world to help with this job. 

“I read your file,” he closed the door behind him, coming to meet you by the table again, “You have an impressive background, and it makes me wonder why you chose the medical field.”

You were at the top of your class for both basics and medical school, so it was a genuine curiosity. He also probably had access to your life before enlistment, “It’s what I wanted,” was the only answer you could give him, and it’s the only one you had.

He hummed, his eyes turning to slits, “Then why agree?” 

“I’ve been waiting for something like this since day one. How was I supposed to say no?” You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to show your versatility. This mission might have been overkill but it was what you wanted. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You’re a strange one,” Price crossed his arms over his chest, “You’ll fit in great,” he looked like he had something else to say but changed his mind. He tilted his head towards the door, “Better go and get some rest, we leave at 0400 tomorrow.”   

You nodded, parting off with a “Thank you,” before heading to the door.

“Can we talk?” Ghost was waiting outside the door when you left the room. 

You shot him a blank look, “About?” you kept walking down the hall not waiting to hear his answer. 

He followed after you, “I want to apologize.” 

You exited the building and met with a blast of the hot sticky air of summer, the sun was getting low in the sky, “Go ahead, Judas” you turned to him, making eye contact with his chest. You gritted your teeth when you had to look up at him, “I’ll keep it civil for the sake of the mission but I don’t want to be your friend.”

His shoulders loosened as if he had just received the best news, “I understand,” he shifted back on his feet, his tired eyes scanning the area, before returning to you, “I was out of line. I was mixing private affairs with work, I see that now. And I’m sorry. I was being selfish and I wasn’t taking your needs and wants into consideration. So, if you’ll give me some grace and let me show you how good I can be.”  

“Keep your fingers out of my business and I’ll think about it,” you quipped. 

He lifted his hands before him, splaying his fingers out before curling them into a fist, “They’re put away,” he might have broken your trust and crossed you but he was still the friend you lost and missed. He was going to have to work for it either way. This was a start.    

“We can talk more later,” where there were fewer listening ears and watchful eyes. “I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready. For now, just stay away from me,” you’d think after 3 months you’d have figured out what you’d say to him, but you didn’t. And tomorrow you were going to be trapped in a room with him, so you were going to have to cross your t's and dot your i’s tonight to present them to him for tomorrow. 

He physically flinched at the dismissal, but he took a step back, providing you with space, “Of course.”  

Your chest twisted at the sight, you didn’t like treating him like a disease, but you refused to let it blind you of the truth. Still. You sighed, cursing yourself for what you were about to say, “Thank you, for apologizing.” 

His eyes crinkled in the corners and you could have sworn they gave way to a smile. The awe-worthy occurrence was sadly hidden underneath his mask. You rolled your eyes at him before pivoting and walking towards the barracks.      

You sat with Laswell on a stray crate on the tarmac while you waited for the rest of the team to arrive. The two of you just people watched, with her occasionally pointing someone out and telling you a little about them. This guy was grounded a couple of weeks ago because he arrived at work still drunk from the night before. That guy had a crazy, entitled wife. 

The chopper started its engine and was ready for lift-off at exactly 0359.   

“Doc, about our talk yesterday. I also figured you want to take part and get some revenge for yourself,” Price bellowed over the sound of the chopper, and he ducked below the propellers. Realization sprung to life in your chest. Price had asked for you to be on this mission because you had something to gain from it. This Rowe guy, this squealer had been the one to rat out the convoy to the enemy. He was the reason you were injured, and the reason Butters was dead. This wasn’t the sleight of hand of Ghost but Price. It put your nerves at ease and allowed you to be a little less angry with the former.      

“I appreciate it, Sir,” you nodded at Price.  He clapped a hand over your shoulder and hopped into the helicopter after you. Being squished between Price and Soap made you feel a little safer with the fact that there were no doors on the heli. Ghost took his spot on the side of the heli, letting his legs hang out the side, his gun at the ready. Gaz sat opposite him and Laswell adjacent to you. Her pack and gun took up an entire seat. She reached into her front pouch as the heli lifted off the ground, pulling out a chocolate bar. Your mouth watered. Chocolate was hard to come back at base, people traded whole MREs for one bar. Soap handed you a headset for the chopper just as she noticed your drooling expression. 

“If you promise you can get an appointment with the chiro, I’ll give you some,” she waggled the bar in front of her, a trade.

“I know both the chiropractor and the masseuse,” you countered. She made a look of delight, before reaching into her pack and tossing you your own bar. 

Oh, you liked her.    

You stuffed the back into the small day pack at your feet, saving it for later. Acutely aware that if you opened it here at least two people on this aircraft would put their hand out for a piece. You eyed Gaz and Soap. 

The helicopter had been an hour's flight, and they had landed on a field. Without permission, you might add so you had to be quick on the exit. A line of blacked-out SUVs and trucks was waiting for a quick escape. Price ordered everyone to join up with their duo, and head to their discussed position. 

Ghost strode for one of the SUVs, opening the back to place his pack and guns. He stepped to the side to allow you to do the same and closed it after you. He was spinning the keys around his finger when he turned to you, “Who’s driving?” 

You didn’t respond, instead, you opened the passenger door and slid in. From the side mirror, you could see him look up at the sky, take a couple of deep breaths, then clasp his hands together before moving to enter the car. He was silent the rest of the way, his attention on the road. Even through the mask, you could see his jaw tighten and flex. 

He parked the SUVs at the back of the building, between the wall and another vehicle. He lead you into the building, a warehouse or collection center of some sort into the offices on the second floor. He pointed out exit routes and potential areas to hold our position. The gravity of his pointing stuff out like that said a lot about how he thought this mission was going to pan out. The thought should have frightened you but knowing that the Ghost was fighting on the same side as you had the opposite effect. The office he brought you into was already vacant, with nothing but an empty desk and a chair on each side. He locked the door and placed his gun on the desk, and informed Price over the radio that we were in place. You made your way to the window, pulling one of the vanes down to peek outside. The window gave a good view of the entrance of the port and a decent view of the sea cans.       

“How long will he have to camp out here?” you asked, letting go of the blinds. 

“The day. Maybe into tomorrow,” he shrugged, as he started pulling things from his pack, “Depends on Rowe, really. Price and Gaz have the biggest probability of catching him. Laswell is going to be our eyes in the sky, and Soap already has access to the cameras in Rowe’s apartment, and a couple in this harbour.” 

You took a seat in one of the swivel chairs, “And you?” 

He paused, his eyes refusing to meet yours, “I’m more for after we catch him,” he cleared his throat. The question made him awkward, he didn’t want you to know what exactly it was that he did. You had your ideas and presumptions already but his hesitation had you second guessing.   

“You the one who’s going to get the information out of him?” he picked up one of the blades he had laid out on the desk, turning it over in your hand. He watched you, following your movements with predatory grace. 

“Is that why I’m here?” you continued, “To make sure he stays alive long enough to give you that information?” He was the butcher and you were the surgeon. A strange dichotomy. 

He stilled, “I don’t want you to see it.”      

“It”, being what he was going to do. What he was trained to do. What he was good at. You placed the knife back on the table, pushing away with the wheels on the chair. You prepared yourself for the upcoming confession. Playing this out in your head last night was way easier than actually doing it.  

“You know, I think you and I have very similar pasts,” you looked down at your hands, at the lines and curves etched into them.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, and his shoulders rolled forward. 

“I also think we took very different paths, though,” you saw it in his eyes the moment you met, the wounds that were too deep to see on the surface. It was why you understood him, and why you were going to forgive him, “You don’t have to hide it from me, Riley. I’ve seen the worst in humanity, and I know that you are nothing like them”  

You didn’t think he was breathing, didn’t think he was in his body. When you met his stare, his eyes were wide, and his pupils were pinpricks. You stood up from the chair and walked to his side of the table, “Can I touch you?” 

It was barely noticeable but he nodded. You wrapped your arms underneath his arm and pressed your cheek to his shoulder. He immediately returned the gesture, his arms encircling your shoulders, his one hand reaching up to cradle your head to him. He released a shuddering breath, and if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his heart hammering against his chest. 

“There isn’t anything you can do that will make me think you're a monster,” you whispered into his shoulder, “Aside from maybe sabotaging my career,” it was almost a joke. 

“Noted,” you could hear the smile in between his words. Feel the relief thawing his muscles. You pulled back just as Soap and Laswell confirmed their position. Ghost took a step back himself, “We should get set up.”  

He pushed the desk so it was against the same wall as the window, propping his gun onto and looked down the scope to the entrance of the port. 

You settled down and at the end of the desk, it was going to be a long, boring wait. You set to counting the bullets in the magazine Ghost pulled from his pack if only to find something to distract yourself. You were elated when he pulled a deck of cards from his pack and the two of you played a couple of rounds of poker, then switched to go fish. There was also the occasional chatter about what each other did in the three months you were separated. The both of you had become incredibly busy. 

It was nearing dusk by the time anything of importance aired over the radio. 

Price’s eager voice came through, “Ghost, Doc, we’re following the informants to the port. Be at the ready.”    

Part 3.5, Part 4

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form   

A/N - the sniper bullet is Soap, the lighter is Price, the toy skeleton is Ghost, the angel wing is Gaz, and the battery is Laswell. Also, also, Price is definitely playing Cupid.

Tag List - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @marytvirgin​ ❤︎ @stickygumchewer​ ❤︎ @lauraliisa​ ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy​ ❤︎ @lululandd​ ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy​ ❤︎ @naxxsstuff​ ❤︎@sididakra-jo,   @yukisawer​ ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @kat-nee

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

An Extended Sesh

Pairing: Nara Shikamaru x f!Reader

Summary: Smoking With Shikamaru (fic version). Our lovely reader is going out to her weekly sesh with her pals, but there are a few things about this week that differ from the last.

W/c: 4.4k

Warnings: Fluff. Oui'd. Mary Jo. Reefer. Pot. Cannabis. Shikamaru's got a bit of a dirty mind, but we're all over 18 (RIGHT?), we can take it.

Notes: teehee, i'm a slut for thc and shikamaru - lmk how y'all feel, i implore you - also this fic works as a part 2 if anyone wants a smuttier extension.

Masterlist💿

That smell of the rubbing alcohol as it broke down the thick, black resin that coated your favourite bong permeated the air, putrid and clinging to every inch of your sinus. The down stem and bowl piece were off to the side, soaking in salt and more rubbing alcohol inside of a tied up bag. Gagging, you shook your bong, covering the lip and the mouthpiece.

Nothing was more disgusting. But you had to do it. Not for yourself, you would've been happy just poking holes through the down stem.

It was for that fucking prick.

He always brought his piece to seshes, but lately he'd been bitching about how much of a drag it was to be the only valuable member of the sesh. In all fairness, everyone bought their leaf off of him and you were the only other person in the village to have glass to smoke out of. But that was how you could tell his gripes were targeted.

So, you had to volunteer to bring your piece this week. And, of course, that prick teased you and said that your bong was probably made of glass thinner than a bottle. Like you only had one.

Before he had said that, you had thought to bring Calissa - your thinnest, cheapest bong. But, fuck, the look on his smug, dreamy face, if he were right- you had to bring out the big guns.

Big Bertha was your second-pick, she was a much thicker glass and had strips of crystals blown into her neck. But she was small, and you hated her down stem. Plus, Talia was the prettiest of all - you had to impress Shikamaru.

Letting your chosen piece soak for a second in the bath tub, you moved to shake the bag that the down stem and bowl piece were in. The liquid turned murky as soon as you moved it and you sighed - you thanked the stars for giving you the foresight to scrape them first. You rinsed them out a few times then moved to your bong, that you knew would blow that prick out of the water.

"Alright, Talia," you said to your favourite piece as you dumped the alcohol out of her lip. "Rinse, swish, repeat, then we're outta here."

Once you were finished, you put her down stem and bowl piece back, then wrapped the gorgeous bong in a fluffy towel. It was Talia's designated towel. Her black and gold design stood stark against the white fuzz of the blanket, making you smile a bit as you rolled a corner of the blanket and stuffed it down her neck. You rolled her in the blanket and put her in your bag, the neck peeking out just a tad.

With a deep breath, you threw your grinder, your wallet, a packet of tobacco, and rolling papers into your bag. In the last second, you grabbed one of your nicer decks of cards, just in case, and just to further your position as a valuable member of the sesh.

You left your shabby apartment to meet everyone at the Eastern tree line, just South of Nara Forest.

Standing around was such a drag. Leave it to Kiba to be the one holding everyone up.

"Let's just go, he'll be able to smell us," Choji groaned. Shikamaru had been thinking similarly, but knew he was right in his decision to keep it inside when your frowned deeply.

Mirroring your expression, Ino chided, "That's rude, Choji. Could you imagine how you'd feel if we left you to find us?"

"I'd be fine! I would want you guys to start without me, if I was going to be so inconsiderately late," he argued, crossing his arms.

"We'll wait another minute," Shikamaru interjected derisively. "Kiba will be able to find us."

Though he thought you would be happy with the compromise, you rolled your eyes and went back to talking to Ino and Tenten. Your smile grew as you spoke to them, and Shikamaru watched you gesticulate strangely. The women laughed loudly, and you seemed happy their reactions, until you looked at Shikamaru.

Your eyes glinted with an edge, and your smile faltered for a breath. Quickly, you looked back at Tenten and Ino as they held each other, giggling.

"What's so funny?" Shikamaru asked, trying to seem as casual as possible, striding up to your small group, ignoring the conversation Choji and Shino were trying to loop him into.

"Oh, Y/n was telling us about-" Tenten began, still chuckling.

"Nothing important," you interrupted. The way you avoided his eye piqued his interest.

Ino pushed your shoulder a little and giggled, "We'd leave out the important bits."

"You can't do this to me, Smokey," Shikamaru teased you. Just like he wanted, your eyes snapped to his and he got to see that beautiful bite behind your gaze. He grinned, "C'mon, I know you want to tell me."

Eye twitching, you answered, "Don't call me that."

"Why not, Smokey Bear?"

Oh, you got so deliciously upset every time Shikamaru teased you. He loved poking the proverbial bear, if only to see how your eyes tore him up. You couldn't have been more obvious; he riled you up, and you loved it just as much as he did.

Not taking his bait, you answered his first question, "I was telling the girls about how I spent two whole hours cleaning my bong, because you're such a prick."

Maybe he was hearing things.

"Sounds to me like you put in effort, just to impress me," he asserted confidently, even though he was crumbling on the inside.

Beside you, Tenten and Ino giggled, and Ino leaned into whisper something in your ear, covering her mouth. The three of you got into a whispered conversation, peppered with giggles and scoffs. Shikamaru took a step to the side to digest... your words. Your tone.

Such a prick.

A prick, sure, but such a prick? That seemed unreasonable. How could you think that? Was it the teasing? Shikamaru was in a slight panic, he had always teased you. For years.

"I'm here! I'm here!"

"About fuckin' time!" Choji exclaimed as Kiba ran up to the group. "What took you so long?"

"Akamaru was having an issue with one of Hana's ninken," he explained, trying to catch his breath. Kiba inhaled deeply then smiled at everyone, sparing your group of girls an extra second. "I hope I didn't make you guys wait too long."

"No, no," Ino said kindly, moving to stand nearer to Kiba.

"Yeah, we like watching grass grow," you joked, coming behind the two of them to stand on the other side of Kiba.

Seemly jealous of how closely you and Ino were standing by Kiba, Tenten went to him and took his hand. Kiba looked around at the three women that surrounded him and smiled so broadly that all of his teeth were on display.

Tenten pulled him to her side and started flirting in earnest while taking him into the forest. You walked beside Tenten while Ino walked on the other side of Kiba. His head bounced around to the three of you, clearly getting torn in three different directions.

"I hate him," Shino grumbled.

"Me too," Choji agreed.

"Hatred is an illness," Shikamaru said, beginning to walk into the forest as well.

"Yeah, don't act like you're not one of the afflicted," Choji chided as he and Shino came up on either side of Shikamaru. "We all saw that face you had on after Y/n walked up to Kiba."

"You do psychoanalysis now?"

"Even my bugs saw it," Shino added.

Shikamaru sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants. He watched you intensely as you took your bag off your shoulder and gave it to Kiba, thanking him.

Fuck, Shikamaru should've been the one to take your bag. It did look heavy. Maybe he was a prick.

"Perhaps I should sit on this until we're alone-"

"It's not like they're listening," Shikamaru pointed out, immediately interested in what Shino had to say.

"Well," he started, much quieter. Choji leaned over Shikamaru and even Shikamaru leaned in, terribly curious. "I was talking to Kiba the other day at the izakaya... and he said if he were to make a move on one of the girls, it'd be Y/n."

"Grand."

"If he were to, or is he planning to?" Choji asked.

"He's planning on it, if you-" Shino's index found itself in the center of Shikamaru's chest. "-don't step up to bat, soon."

Fuck. And you definitely didn't think Kiba was a prick.

It wasn't even a question in his mind; Shikamaru had to change your opinion of him. As soon as possible.

"Would you rather have sex with a being that has the Fifth Hokage's body and the Third Hokage's head - or... rethatch the entire Academy building?"

"That's disgusting, Kiba!"

"Can I close my eyes in the Fifth-Third situation?" You asked across the circle.

"Nope, eye contact is necessary," Kiba confirmed with a devilish grin. He looked over at Ino pointedly and added, "At least someone understands that we're playing a hypothetical game."

"Okay, who's neck does the being have?" Shikamaru asked, his voice so deep, you could feel the vibration while sitting beside him.

The question made you snicker wildly, having to look away for a second. Kiba repeated, "Neck?"

"Yeah, where's the cut-off," Shikamaru clarified.

You looked back at him and he was smiling so softly that it made you nervous. Cripes, such handsome men were always nerve-wracking. What was he planning?

Shikamaru cleared his throat, looking to Kiba. He shrugged, "It's a fair question."

"Hiruzen-neck," Kiba decided.

"Yeah, give me the roof," the black haired boy yucked. "No amount of tit could distract me from that turkey neck."

As you laughed at his decision, Ino chastised Shikamaru and Kiba for speaking about the Hokages so lewdly. It just made you laugh harder as Tenten blew out her stale smoke.

"I'd say," she coughed. "Give me the being."

"Me too," you agreed with a soft laugh, taking Talia from her. You took up the bowl piece and Shikamaru passed you his grinder before you could pick up yours. You took it hesitantly. "...Thank you."

"No problem," he replied cheerily.

Quickly, you packed a horrifically small bowl and tried to gave him back his grinder.

Shikamaru smiled at you, eyes crinkling so sweetly, as he pushed the grinder back to you. With a beautiful lilt, he chuckled, "Are we rationing?"

"You pack it for me then," you sighed, feeling a little anxious. "I don't want to steal all your weed."

"You could if you wanted to," Shikamaru told you as he took the bowl piece and the grinder from you. By blessing of his grinder being so large, he literally dipped the bowl into the shredded weed and scooped up a lung-buster. With that same sweet smile, he slotted the bowl piece into the down stem and looked deeply into your eyes. "Think you can take it?"

"Y-yeah, I can take it," you exhaled. You snapped back into reality, shaking your head quickly and looking away.

The man sitting beside you couldn't take his eyes off of you as you toked, and your thoughts began bouncing off the walls of your mind.

Oh, something was wrong. Something was off, something had happened.

You just didn't know what.

All you knew was that Shikamaru was suddenly acting all sweet with you.

First, he insisted that he sit with you and Tenten, to help you with Talia. Then, he couldn't stop complimenting Talia. Sure, she was a beautiful piece, but he didn't even make one snide comment, even when you fucking prompted him.

Worse yet, when everyone pooled their money to give to him, Shikamaru had slipped fifty yen back into your pocket without anyone but you noticing. You had tried to give it back, but he argued, and told you that he had overcharged you last week.

What sealed the deal for you was the fact that he wasn't letting you touch your own weed, only his. And no one got to smoke from Shikamaru's personal stash. Ever.

"Everything okay, Smokey?" Shikamaru asked you quietly, everyone else talking about the would you rather question Kiba had posed.

You looked around and remarked how inebriated your friends were. They could never match your tolerance, but Shikamaru could give you a run for your money.

He nudged you, moving a bit closer on the fallen tree that you, he and Tenten were using as a bench. When you looked into his eyes, that glint that boiled your blood was absent, and the corners of his eyes drooped a bit, making Shikamaru look so... kind.

"What's up with you?" You asked finally.

"Me?" He asked, smiling wide. Shikamaru put his hand on his chest and shook his head. "I'm alright, thanks for asking."

"No, you fucking prick," you said. Shikamaru's smile dropped in an instant, where he normally would have laughed. You pointed and asked, "That... why aren't you being my friend right now?"

He seemed at a loss for words. Shaking his head, much more seriously, Shikamaru stuttered, "I- I am... I am your friend. Right?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "You're my friend. So where are the jabs, the taunts? You're so mean, all the time, and it's disconcerting to see you be so nice."

Shikamaru looked down, studying the forest floor. You looked around briefly before you cleared out your stale and passed Talia to Shikamaru.

"Is it Tenten?" You whispered into his ear. Shikamaru gave you a cut eye and you leaned back, nodding. He probably just wanted to make a good impression on her without directly flirting with her. That was fair. Tenten was so pretty. "Okay, I'll keep your secret."

"That's not it," he mumbled, probably thinking of something to deter you from the right track.

"Then what is it?"

Shikamaru looked at you, more emotion on his face than you had ever seen before. And it broke your heart, because he looked so sad.

"Do you wanna know?" He asked. You nodded, and Shikamaru's lip quirked a tad. "Do you really wanna know?" You nodded again. "Do you really really wanna know?"

"Yes, damnit, tell me."

"No," he smirked.

You groaned. What a fucking prick. You knew he was stalling, coming up with something to hide his attraction to Tenten. Stars, he got under your skin so easily, it was like he lived there.

"Let's smoke together, later, just the two of us, and I'll tell you then."

He should invite Tenten to sesh, if he likes her so much, you thought bitterly. You narrowed your eyes at him, but nodded slowly. "Alright, you're on then."

He'd never been so nervous. Never, not once in his life. Jittery, that would have been a great way to describe it. He was absolutely shaking with anticipation. Shikamaru couldn't wait to shake off the others, just to get you alone.

Shino, high as a kite, with a cloud of bugs around him, hung off of Shikamaru's neck as the group made it's way back to the village, walking from the plot of forest just South of the gorgeous Nara woods, then through the Nara compound. Everyone definitely smelled a little, but Shikamaru had brought peppermint oil to mask it. None of his relatives paid his group any real attention, nothing more than a passing glance.

"Let me braid your hair, Y/n," Ino whined at you, running her fingers through your locks.

"It's too short," you weakly argued.

Tenten scoffed on your other side, playing with the ends of your hair, "Shut up."

"Would you let me braid your hair, Y/n?" Kiba asked.

The three of you, having been walking in front, slowed and looked back at the four boys. Shikamaru, not wanting to see how you would smile at Kiba and agree, looked off to one of his aunt's houses.

"Fuck no," you scoffed. Shikamaru looked at you, trying to conceal his joy at your genuinely put-off expression. "Can you even braid hair, Kiba, or are you just putting me on?"

"Ah, I could always learn for you," he flirted.

"I know how to braid," Shikamaru lied. Your eyes shifted to him and softened. Yes.

"What kinds of braids?" You asked. No.

"I- er, the regular one?" Shit, he didn't know there would be a quiz. He thought about his mother, her strange braids, and added, "And... the fish braid?"

"You can fishtail braid?" Tenten questioned, completely disbelieving.

"Like fuck he can," Kiba laughed.

"Show us, Shikamaru!" Ino prompted him.

Fuck sake.

No, he couldn't come clean. He could figure out how to braid right now, with an audience, in front of the woman he'd been pining after for years, even if it seemed like a hard braid. Yeah, sure. Good stars, he needed a miracle.

"Alright, then, I need a model," he said as smugly as possible, looking at you. "Smokey...?"

"Well, this, I have to see," you said, shifting your bag on your shoulder as you walked to a bench on the side of the road.

Shit, he wasn't supposed to let you carry that back. He already neglected to help you with it the first time. Shikamaru was going to carry it back for you, but he took one toke too many to remember, before he was reminded. Cripes, he really was a prick, wasn't he?

Shikamaru stood behind you, sitting Shino down beside you, as Choji and Kiba crowded around him and the girls sat on your other side. Tenten started telling him, "Fishtail is four sections, not-"

"Don't tell him!" Choji cut her off.

Tenten crossed her arms and started watching with everybody as Shikamaru stared at your gorgeous, shining hair. It caught the sun so nicely, it was almost distracting. Slowly, he brought his hands to your hair, gently pulling out a few knots.

"You can be a bit rougher, if you want. I can take it," you said.

Shikamaru bit his tongue and shook his head, though you couldn't see him. Rougher, maybe in the bedroom. Oh, that'd be the day, when he would feel your silken hair and hear you say those same words, but in such a different context.

As carefully and precisely as he could, Shikamaru divided your hair into four sections, like Tenten had said.

Then came the hard part. He hadn't much of a clue what to do.

Well, a braid was just a series of woven plaits, right?

He took the furthest right section and brought it over the center two, then repeated the action with the left. Yeah, okay, that didn't look wrong. Shikamaru pulled it tighter then repeated it, moving the new furthest right second over the two in the middle, then the left. He tightened it, then again, right over two, left over two.

Shit, this wasn't hard at all.

"I should've put money on this," Shikamaru murmured as he neared the ends of your hair.

"I want to put money on the chance that you just learned that on the fly," Tenten laughed, voice full of praise.

Which only made Ino swoon, "Even if he did..."

"Man, I hate you," Kiba said.

There was no music as triumphant to Shikamaru's ear.

But, no one's opinion mattered but yours. As Shikamaru laid the braid over your shoulder, having gone down as far as he could without his fingers fumbling around, he waited with bated breath as you examined it. Seeing you wrap a hair elastic from your wrist around the end made Shikamaru's heart pound in his chest. You ran your fingers up the center, then started pulling at the sides near the top.

Fuck, you hated it.

"What's wrong with it?" Shikamaru asked quickly.

"Nothing," you giggled. Despite your answer, you kept pulling it the braid that Shikamaru was shaking over. "It's really tight, Shikamaru, you did a really good job on this."

He was going to cry. Right in the middle of the Nara compound, in the midst of all of his friends, in front of all of his family.

That sentence alone was like winning the lottery.

"Bet I could do better," Kiba said, trying to steal Shikamaru's moment.

"Well, not on my head, I'm never taking this out," you said to Kiba, standing up from the bench. Shikamaru contained himself, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Tenten and Ino both shared your refusal, already having their hair done-up.

The group started moving again, though the order had gotten strange. Kiba and Ino occupied the front, trailed by you and Shino, having been the one to pick him back up, while Choji, Tenten and Shikamaru held the end. Shikamaru was walking right behind you, watching the way your braid- his braid bopped around as you moved.

It was all Shikamaru could do to not steal you away and leave the group. You said you would smoke with him later. Later was now. Shikamaru needed later to be now.

Finally, you gave Shino to Tenten and the two of them peeled away from the group, going in the direction of their neighbourhoods. Choji popped off next, in the direction of the Akimichi compound, and Ino left in the other direction, to the Yamanaka compound.

It left just you, Shikamaru, and Kiba.

"I'm going down to Imanishi in a bit, Y/n," Kiba started boldly. "I'd love it if you came with me."

"Not tonight," you said with a smile. "Shikamaru and I are hanging out."

Kiba looked at Shikamaru over your head. His eyebrow cocked and Shikamaru dipped his head a little, making Kiba smile, but his eyes drooped ever so slightly. He got the message.

"Ah, don't worry about it," he said, speeding up a little. Kiba turned and waved at you and Shikamaru, before saying, much to Shikamaru's chagrin, "If anything ever falls through, you'll know where to find me."

"Whatever you say," you sang, shaking your head with the smallest smile.

Shikamaru gave Kiba a quick two finger salute as he turned back around, continuing on his merry way. Alone at last, Shikamaru took a deep breath, basking in the notes of your fragrance the held in the air around him.

"Your place or mine?"

"My bed's bigger," he murmured, not thinking. Shikamaru's eyes widened as your eyebrows shot up. "I mean for sitting on. Or we could smoke in my living room. My bed doesn't even matter, what?"

"So, your place then."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"On particularly romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion," you stated, twirling around Shikamaru's open living room.

"And, do answers ever dip you?" He asked, standing from the navy blue couch slowly.

Pattering over with the softest steps, you opened you arms to Shikamaru and he took you in his. He whisked you around the room as if the two of you were standing atop a cloud, though the cold hardwood was tingling your toes. Your eyelids felt heavier as you looked up at him, smiling down at you so gently that you were sure he wasn't aware of the smile.

"Sometimes," you replied. Shikamaru spun you gracefully from the three step, then caught you. He dipped you back lowly, his thick forearm flush to your back, and you giggle, "But they're never real."

"I am," he murmured, pulling you back to your feet. "This is."

"Mhm," you hummed, taking his hand and twirling yourself.

Shikamaru smiled, taking a step to the window while letting his fingers linger, interlocked with yours. When he finally let go, your fingers snapped. Cripes, how could this possibly be real?

"In what flavour does your confusion come?" Shikamaru asked as he sat on the tuffet in front of the window, getting the dab rig ready.

"Rocky Road is my favourite," you answered, your first few dabs clouding the part of your mind that contended with metaphors, sitting on the ground in front of him. "Rum Raisin is pretty good too... ooh, and Pralines and Cream. Mm, can't go wrong."

"Grandmama? Is that you?" He laughed, igniting the torch.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your laugh as you laid back on the hardwood. Looking at his popcorn ceiling, you sighed, "No one is as big of a hater as you, Shikamaru."

"You should hear what I keep inside," he snorted as he moved the flame around the banger.

"I should, you're right," you said, sitting right back up. Shikamaru smirked at you, eyes glinting playfully, making you feel so warm and welcomed. You grinned, "C'mon then, I know you wanna tell me."

"Do you really think I'm a prick?" He asked suddenly.

You shook your head and shrugged, "Only playfully. Like, I'd trust you to hold my baby, if I had one, but I wouldn't trust you to not draw on my face if I fell asleep first at a party."

"Alright," he nodded, seemingly relieved. "I can't fault you. I'd write my name across your forehead, for sure."

"Cripes, you wanna brand me?" You asked, laughing. Shikamaru bit back a smile, shaking his head and looking at the glass as it started to turn red. You hummed, "That can't be it, I always call you a prick. Tell me what else is inside that big, beautiful brain of yours."

"If this dab goes alright, maybe."

Shikamaru clicked off the torch and quickly gathered up the small pot of butter concentrate the two of you were using. He collected a sizeable pearl and you scoffed, "You plan on keeping your secrets, huh?"

"Just watch the master, sweetheart," he cooed condescendingly.

If you hadn't been so high, that would've sent you on some convoluted diatribe about how mean and prick-ish Shikamaru was. But, as it stood, you had no desire to say anything like that to him. You had no idea how fucking amazing being alone with Shikamaru would be. You had an inkling, but you couldn't have imagined how happy you would be in the moment.

Your previous notion of Tenten being the one he wanted wasn't even a flicker in your mind. That was stupid, wasn't it? Shikamaru wouldn't do all this, just to impress your friend. No, he was trying to impress you.

"Okay, now that I have the floor," you said as Shikamaru started to smoke. He looked at you, lips attached to the dab rig, and quirked his brow. You smiled and continued, "There's totally something up with you. You're being so sweet, and it's not like you're not a good person, or anything like that, but you've got me thinking things that are probably so far from the truth-"

"Like what?" He wheezed, mid-toke, blowing out the first round of smoke before going back to the rig.

You scratched the back of your neck, looking away to one of Shikamaru's book shelves. "Well, y'know, like... you like me. Like, wanna-kiss-me kind of like me."

Shikamaru's face flamed red as he exhaled the second round. You watched as he prolonged his toke, trying to put off his answer.

But he couldn't run out the clock on this one. Putting the dab rig down, Shikamaru looked at you tentatively and asserted slowly,

"I... do... want to kiss you. I've... liked you for... years."

"Well, then..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't be a prick about it," you laughed. "Kiss me."

[strwberri-milk]

Could you please write a little fic of Kaeya and the femlead fucking after Diluc confessed to her and Kaeya is telling her that she belongs to him and no one else?

You and Kaeya were always close friends, bonding over the most mundane of things. The two of you were practically inseparable ever since the day you met and became each other's closest confidantes.

When he first introduced you to his brother Diluc he could immediately tell that Diluc was interested in you. Diluc's eyes widened marginally and the typical cold politeness that he has was a lot warmer. Kaeya knew that Diluc wanted you, but there's no way he's letting that happen.

Diluc didn't even tell Kaeya that he wanted to confess - probably because he didn't think Kaeya would object. To Diluc, you and Kaeya were just close friends and Kaeya never seemed to show any romantic interest in you.

Of course, you told Kaeya and he wasn't exactly angry at Diluc. More so annoyed at him, but it also meant that he had to come over to "discuss" what Diluc said to you.

"Who do you belong to?" Kaeya hisses into your ear, biting more marks into your throat as he fucks into you.

You have no idea how things escalated this far. You knew Kaeya wanted to talk to you about what Diluc said to you and then somehow it ended up with you pressed against your door as he kissed you hard. Somewhere in there was a confession for how he's loved you since the day he met you and that he would never forgive himself for losing to Diluc if you said yes to his confession.

Now he was railing into you, making you look right at him with a hand on your chin and the other on your hips. You can feel your wetness staining the crotch of his pants, moaning desperately as he presses another kiss to your lips.

"I asked you a question," he says against your mouth, almost drowned out by the sound of your bodies meeting over and over.

"I think you should answer it."

"Yours, Kaeya I'm yours," you cry out, the hands holding tightly to his shirt growing pale from how you cling to him.

"Don't you forget it."

There's no way you'd be able to, not with the way his cock bullies itself into your sweet little pussy over and over again, or with the sweet nothings he was whispering in your ear.

The warmth of his body is only rivaled by the warmth of him inside of you, your body trembling as he makes you cum at the same time as him. His eye only leaves your face to look at your tits heaving, wishing he had the foresight to rip your shirt off in addition to your bottoms. It would have been a wonderful sight, one that he'll have to create sometime soon.

However, the sight in front of him right now is just as tantalising. Your body is spent from his, pussy still clenching intermittently around his cock and each press against him makes his eye roll back into his head. Gods he wants to fuck you again so bad but the dazed look in your eyes makes him want to hold you close to him and spoil you in softer attention.

A soft whimper from your lips breaks him out of his stupor, chuckling a little to himself as he gives you a soft kiss and pulls out. Your hands grab at him as you feel his warmth disappear, looking up at him pitifully.

"What now?" you ask him quietly, the silence crawling in at the sides as you realise Kaeya might have just said things in the heat of the moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you just clean yourself off and leave after fucking my brains out?"

He laughs again and you narrow your eyes at him, face morphing into surprise when he kisses you again.

"I told you you're mine. I intend to act like it."

[forever-rogue]

Hey can you maybe write a fic about Eddie helping his gf through getting her period really bad at school love ur writing x

AN | Eddie Spaghetti, the best and softest boyfriend. We all deserve an Eddie 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language, Period talk

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You wished you could have stayed home. Realistically it probably would have been the best idea, but you also knew that your mother would never allow you to skip school for something so menial such as your period. Even though it was a well known fact that your periods could be brutal sometimes, making it almost impossible to think or focus on anything but your cramps. But you were tough, Eddie always reminded you of that, so you were going to suck it up and deal with it. 

But honestly? It fucking sucked.

It was barely halfway through your second class of the day and you were already suffering. It was going to be a long day…at least you were able to look forward to the evening with your wonderful boyfriend. If you made it that far anyway. Dramatic? Yes. Justified? Also yes. 

At least you had enough foresight to keep a bottle of painkillers in your locker. Maybe that would help a little bit - worth a try anyway. You excused yourself so you could go to the restroom, grabbed your bag so not everyone had to see what you were doing, and stopped by your locker first. 

When you closed your locker again, a small yelp escaped your lips. There was none other than Eddie, standing there with a big smile on his face, “fucking hell, Eddie!” 

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pressed a playful kiss to your cheek, “thought you heard me coming.”

“You’re silent like some kind of weird ninja,” you waved your hand around to which he only grinned, “or I’m too wrapped up in my own thoughts. Wait - what are you doing out of class?”

“Doesn’t matter - penny for your thoughts?”

“Eddie.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, clutching at his heart as you just snorted at him, “I saw you leave class and followed after you. Had to make sure my best girl was okay.”

“‘m fine,” you murmured, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. You didn’t need him to worry about you on top of everything else, “you can go back to class, Eddie. I was just running to the bathroom.”

“When did you decide to start lying to me?” he raised an eyebrow curiously, your face flushing with warmth when you realized how easily he could read you. You opened your mouth to speak, but he put a finger on your lips to keep you from speaking, tutting gently, “honesty is the best policy, my love.”

“Eddie,” his name came out as a smushed murmur as he shook his head, “‘n not lying.”

“Wait,” his brows furrowed for a moment, pretty chocolate brown eyes studying you intently. You wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, but his finger was still squished against your lips. It didn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to it, “I know what’s going on! It’s your least favorite time of the month, aka you’ve gotten your period.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face as you looked at him incredulously. Your heart melted as you looked at your metalhead in surprise, “h-how do you know that?”

“I…how wouldn’t I?” he looked at you in confusion as though it should have been obvious that he possessed this piece of knowledge, “you get it every month, it’s pretty much like clockwork for you….it’s not that hard to keep track. ‘specially after that one time when the condom broke and -”

“Eddie!” you hissed softly, looking around to make sure no one had been listening in. Luckily, it appeared to be just the two in the quiet, abandoned hall, “don’t worry, I remember that too. But, you…you keep track of it?”

“‘course,” his smile was always so magical - all toothy and sweet, showing off his dimple, “how else am I going to know when you’re suffering? I have to make sure so I can take care of you.” 

Oh. Yeah, you were a sucker for this man, pure and simple. Your eyes prickled with tears, causing you to blink rapidly in order to try and keep them at bay. Eddie reached over and put his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you,” he kissed your forehead before reaching for your backpack, “now let’s get out of here so you can rest.”

“Cut class?”

“Well yeah,” he answered as though it was the most obvious thing, “I know how bad your cramps can get and I think it’s better for you to rest than try and suffer through the rest of the day. Besides, these are doctor’s orders.”

“Oh? And just what doctor happened to make these orders?”

“Doctor Best Boyfriend Ever,” he cheesed, you giggled. You were madly in love with him, “now c’mon, let’s get out of here and let me take care of you.”

“Well, I have to listen to the doctor,” you nodded, leaning over on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. You grabbed onto him, gently holding it as you looked at him with the softest eyes, "thank you, Eddie."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he promised softly, "I would do anything for you."

"Can we stop and get some chocolate on the way home?" your voice almost dropped to a whisper as you looked at him with bright, shy eyes, "and maybe pizza?"

"Of course, princess," he swung your backpack over his shoulder, "now let's get outta here before we get caught!"

-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Less than hour later you were padding after Eddie into his trailer, arms empty as he struggled to balance everything. You’d offered to help but he wasn’t having it for a moment; you were going to relax and rest and he would take care of everything else. He’d decided that you were going to spend the day at his, opting not to take the chance and going to your house in case one of your parents came home early. As good as they were, they wouldn’t understand you needing to leave school early.

“Home sweet home,” he beamed, setting your backpack down and pizza on the counter…along with the bag of sweets you’d collected at the store. You’d fully intended on buying the things you wanted and the supplies you needed, but Eddie had beaten you to it and taken everything to the register and paid for it himself. As if he could get more amazing. 

“I love it here,” you sighed softly as you walked over to the couch and almost collapsed on it, reaching for one of the soft and well-loved blankets, “it always feels like home here, ‘cause of you.”

“I love it when you’re here,” his heart constricted in his chest and he thought he might die from the sheer amount of affection and love he held for you, “how’re you feeling?”

“Okay,” the painkillers were slowly wearing off and you felt the onslaught of cramps starting to come back, “tired, getting crampy. Hey, my love, you’ll tell me if I’m being too annoying, right?”

“If that ever happened, you know I would,” you heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, “but that is impossible, so you never have to worry.”

You laughed at his silliness, and it was only a few seconds before he came over to you and kneeled at your side. Unable to stop yourself, you reached over and brushed his curls out of his face, “hi handsome.”

“Hi beautiful,” he held up the heating pad before reaching under the blanket and placing it on your tummy, “I know you like the heating pad for cramps, so I got one to keep here.”

“Oh Eddie,” before he could turn to plug it in, you tenderly grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, “you are so wonderful.”

“I’m just…trying to help,” his entire face turned pink at your praise as he made quick work of plugging it in. He handed you a bottle of water, a few more painkillers, and a candy bar, “and I hope this is helping.”

“It is,” you really couldn’t have asked for anything or anyone better, “Eddie? Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” he touched your face so gently that it made you want to melt into him, “anything, princess.”

“Will you cuddle me?” your soft lips pulled into a pout, causing Eddie to chuckle. As if that was really a question - the man would cuddle you no matter what, “you don’t have to, if you don’t wanna. I feel all icky and gross, but -”

“You are perfect,” he insisted firmly, leaving you no choice but to accept what he was saying, “and you are not icky or gross or anything like that. I will gladly cuddle with you, sweetheart.”

“But if I get blood-”

“You won’t,” he stood up to kick his shoes off, and discard his jacket, “and even if you did, so what? It’s just blood, it’s all natural, what your body is going through is normal. It sucks and I wish I could make it so I was the one dealing with it, but it’s okay.”

“Okay,” you sat up and scooted over so he could lie down. He slowly did so, and pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs so you could rest your head on his chest. He made sure the heating pad was right on top of you to help as much as it could, “you’re so warm, like my own personal heater. And you’re so comfy.”

“Ahhh,” he groaned playfully, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

“I’m a woman of taste,” reaching for his hand, you threaded your fingers through his and rested them on your tummy, “what can I say? You’re the total package - handsome, smart, funny, and multi-talented? What more could I want?”

“Silly girl,” there was nothing but gentle affection and fond teasing behind his words, “what more could I want? Nothing, that’s what.”

“Hmm,” sleep was quickly making your eyes heavy and you felt yourself falling under the siren call of slumber, “me neither. ‘m gonna marry you someday, Eddie Munson. You’re not just boyfriend material, you’re husband material.”

“Funny,” and oh. How his heart was beating wildly in his chest, surely threatening to break through his ribcage, “I was just thinking the same thing about you. Gonna marry you, princess, but I’m gonna do it right.” 

“Whatever you do will be perfect,” you murmured already half asleep, “because it’s you.”

“Oh honey, honey,” he sighed wistfully, “I love you, but I think right now you need to rest and later we watch a movie and eat lots of snacks, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, “love you so much, my Eddie Spaghetti.”

[somedaylazysomeday]

A Deal with a Demon - Part Six

Beetlejuice was summoned. Since the summoner didn't want to pay his terms, you agree to step in on their behalf.

Demon!Beetlejuice x fem!witch!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: Language, sex as terms of payment, discussions of pegging, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, references to demons and demonic biology, references to magic and witchcraft, brief gender dysphoria.

Previous | Masterlist

---

“Lock the door.”

By the time Beetlejuice had processed your instruction and all of its implications, you had almost gotten rid of your shirt. The demon scrambled to do what you had asked, locking the door to your office with an awestruck look on his face. 

As far as you were concerned, there was no getting around it, so you may as well get things moving between you. Beetlejuice’s deal had fallen through, but the realities of summoning a demon were that they had to be paid one way or another. And you found that you didn’t mind picking up the slack as much as you once had. 

Even in his hurry to get undressed for you, Beetlejuice couldn’t keep from talking. He never did anything quietly if he could help it.

“This is hot,” he chattered, stripping off his jacket. “I can’t believe you’re gonna let me fuck ya in your office…”

“I’m not going to let you fuck me,” you told him, watching with no small amount of pleasure as he froze, crestfallen. “I’m going to fuck you in my office.” 

A moment later, a filthy grin sprouted on his face. “That’s even hotter.”

You kicked away your pants, underwear still tangled in the fabric, and mentally congratulated yourself on having the foresight to sweep earlier in the week. Since you were in a hurry and still waiting for Beetlejuice, you dropped your hands and gave an experimental stroke over your mound.

Tingles rose in the wake of your touch and you fought back a shiver as you repeated the motion. This time, you gave your lips a little more attention. They were sensitive, but your body wasn’t fully paying attention yet. You had some work to do if you were going to fulfill Beetlejuice’s deal in the next few minutes. For all that you would never say so to him, he was well-endowed, and hooking up unprepared promised to be unpleasant. 

The lack of swelling in your lips made it easy to press your fingertip between them, pushing gently against the firm bead of your clit. The simple pressure sent tingles running through your body, but it was marred by the sensation of eyes on you. 

When you glanced up, Beetlejuice’s dark eyes were fixed on the place where your hand was settled between your own thighs. As if only just noticing that your fingers had stopped moving, his gaze moved slowly up your bare body until he was looking at your face. 

“Hottest.” 

The gravel in his voice made it sound like talking would be painful, but he would never let something so minor stop him from constantly vomiting his thoughts. Especially if they were dirty. 

You gave him a stern look. “Get naked now or stay dressed. I don’t have time for a striptease.” 

Beetlejuice’s face sharpened, a fierce amusement lighting his eyes. He complained, but he liked it when you ordered him around. Especially when you were a little bossy about it. You had seen the evidence of how much he enjoyed it. 

Actually, you could see it just then, too. 

When he walked over to you, it was with a little strut in his step, his hardening length bobbing obscenely as it led the way. “So, if you’re gonna fuck me, where’s your strap-on?” 

You thought about it, you really did. Sinful sold plenty of sex toys, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t looked at and thought about trying some of the toys for yourself. And finding the right box in the stock room just outside your office would take a matter of moments…

But you sighed and shook your head. “No time. We’ll keep that in mind for the future.” 

“I’ll hold ya to that,” Beetlejuice warned, pointing a finger at you. 

As you eyed the chipped black polish on that finger’s nail, you frowned. “Could you feed off that, though? Don’t you have to be the one penetrating the other person?” 

“Penetrating,” Beetlejuice repeated with a snort, waggling his eyebrows at you. “And no. I’m a sex demon, not an incubus.” 

You frowned harder. “Which is a demon that feeds on sex…”

“No!” he lectured. “Incubi are- See, they just… Sex demons don’t gotta… The difference is that we are tryin’- Shut up, we’re not the same thing!” 

Since you hadn’t said a word during the entirety of Beetlejuice’s stammered explanation, you just held up your hands and laughed. “You got it. Totally different, my bad.” 

“See, you don’t even sound believable,” he muttered. You laughed harder… until he stepped so close you could smell the mossy earth scent of him. “Point is, I can feed on any of it. All of it. And if you want to fuck this delicious peach of mine, baby… Just say when.”

“Ugh,” you sputtered, pushing him back a step. “Never say that again.”

“Then don’t compare me to a damn incubus.”

“Deal,” you agreed. 

Beetlejuice’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you wanna make a deal?” 

“Aren’t you already one in the hole?”

“I’ll have one in your-”

“Enough!” you entreated. “I know you’re the master of wordplay and innuendo. And no, I’m not interested in hearing jokes about either of those words. I really don’t have a lot of free time today. If we’re doing this, we have to do it now.” 

Beetlejuice grumbled, looking down at his now-limp cock. “Can’t say that the mentions of a time limit are doin’ it for me, babes.”

“Let me fix it, then,” you offered, sinking down in front of him.

“I accept,” Beetlejuice agreed, grabbing you under the arms and pushing you backward onto your own desk. You gaped at him, partially from surprise and partially from the force of the impact. He grinned from his place standing between your legs. “I always get hard when I hear those gorgeous little sounds ya make for me-”

You pulled a pen out from behind the small of your back and tossed it at him. “I’m hearing a lot of talk and very little- ahh!”

The noise that left you was only tangentially humanoid in nature. Beetlejuice had dropped to his knees and skipped past everything else he could have done, sealing his lips around your clit and applying devastating suction. 

It was too much. Deliciously so, but still, too much. You pushed at his head, trying to force him out from between your legs, but he just lessened the pressure slightly and sank two fingers into you. 

You shouted, the muscles in your abdomen tightening so intensely that your shoulder blades left the surface of the desk. You stared down at him from your new vantage point, not surprised to see that his eyes were fixed directly on your face. It also wasn’t a surprise when he waggled his eyebrows and gave a particularly lascivious lick from the bottom of your opening to the top of your slit. 

When Beetlejuice was back where he had started - focused intently on your clit with two fingers pumping into you - you sank your hands into his hair. Your first thought had been to push him away, but you found yourself holding him in place. The helpless convulsions of your pelvis left you riding his fingers, his lips following to keep that steady, maddening pressure exactly where you needed it.

The amorphous pleasure coalesced, binding together in a sign of things to come. Your orgasm shimmered like a mirror on the horizon - distant, but inching closer with every moment.

Until Beetlejuice withdrew his fingers and pulled away from you. You growled low in your throat, glaring up at him, but he seemed utterly unconcerned. He stood, proudly displaying the hard-on he had apparently gotten from taking you apart on your own desk. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Couldn’t have taken another two minutes…” you grumbled, struggling to sit up.

“Stay down, toots,” Beetlejuice told you, using a hand between your breasts to press you back down against the cool surface of the desk. “Lemme do the work this time.” 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you?” 

“Like position has anything to do with that,” he said with a snort. “Save that energy for next time. We’ll get ya a nice, fat strap-on and you can rock my world. For now…” 

Beetlejuice pressed himself to the edge of the desk, planting his hips firmly between your parted thighs. Your hips jolted upward reflexively, and the demon chuckled as he lined himself up and pushed slowly into you. 

Torturously slowly.

His grip on your hips was the only thing that kept you from scooting down and forcing him further into you. Instead, you were pinned in place, fingers tightening on the edges of the desk as you tried to move anyway. When you found that you couldn’t move at all, you bared your teeth at him. “Move, Beej!” 

He pouted at you. “No. But here’s a little gift for bein’ so good and not sayin’ my name…”

His finger brushing against the swollen nub of your clit made you gasp, your head falling backward fast enough that it collided with the desk. The sound of it was loud in the room, but not as loud as the ancient curses you hissed at him. 

“Hey, watch the Babylonian,” Beetlejuice chided. “Some’a that shit sticks.”

When you didn’t listen, he leaned forward and kissed you. You bit him. 

Beetlejuice gasped into the kiss, but didn’t pull away. Instead, his hips thrust in a way that seemed involuntary. It also forced the entire length of him inside of you. Your core clamped down around him, squeezing and working to keep the intrusion buried as deeply inside of you as possible.

Your teeth parted at the feeling of it, and you were left with the iron tang of blood in your mouth as he pulled away. After licking your front teeth clean, you frowned at Beetlejuice. “Is your blood… spicy?”

He licked his swelling lip - as always, using far too much tongue. “Yeah. Demon. Anyway…”

Beetlejuice’s hands tightening around your hips was the only warning you received, then he was pounding into you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. You met him stroke for stroke, using your minuscule range of motion to participate. Your feet slipped from the desk, thighs landing heavy and splayed against the cool surface for a moment. Then Beetlejuice hit something raw and aching inside of you and your legs wrapped around his waist without any direction from your brain. 

“C’mon, babes,” he muttered, eyes bouncing between your face, your breasts, and the place where the two of you were joined. “A little more. I know you’ve got it in you…” 

You shook your head back and forth, the motion turning into a release of energy more than an actual refusal. After being kept on the precipice of orgasm fo so long, your body was struggling to let go. “Have you- Are you feeding?” 

“Have been the whole time,” he reassured, giving your thigh a soothing sort of pat. “Come. You know you wanna.” 

Well, you certainly didn’t need him to ask you twice. You used the way your legs were locked around his waist to pull him sharply deeper every time he dragged out of you. The slow withdrawal against the sudden collision of him spearing into you provided the perfect counterpoint, and you were on the edge in moments. 

“I’m-”

“I know, I feel you,” Beetlejuice gritted out. “Now or never, babes.”

Beetlejuice bucked against you, pushing himself deep. You could feel his length twitching and spasming as he spilled into you.  His face was slack with pleasure, his mouth relaxed, a bead of dark red blood trembling on the curve of his bottom lip. His eyes were heavy-lidded as they roamed your body with an expression of mingled satisfaction and possessiveness. 

It was a worrisome expression, honestly. And you would never, ever admit to him that it was what pushed you over the edge. 

The orgasm seemed to rush in from everywhere at the same time. You heard it in the room around you, a sound that had never existed in the world, but was soaking your brain in pleasure. It tingled up from your fingers and toes, spreading into every limb with sparkling weightlessness. It emanated in waves from your pussy, sending contractions of sheer euphoria through you with every pulse.

And you were left utterly slack in its wake. 

Lying naked and splayed across the surface of your desk wasn’t a particularly dignified experience, especially when Beetlejuice collapsed across you. When you looked past him, you could see the sunlight peeking around the edges of the door. You weren’t sure why the time of day should have an impact on how you felt about sleeping with a demon at your job working for said demon, but you were feeling noticeably odd about the whole thing. 

“Okay, up,” you said, tapping Beetlejuice on the forehead. “I have things to get done. Plus, I think I’m ruining some documents.” 

He obligingly sat up, pulling out of you at the same time. You slammed your legs together in an effort to hold the mess inside, and gingerly slipped off the desk. On your way to the small bathroom attached to your office, you peeked backward and grimaced at the way your activities had left the papers on your desk disorganized and crumpled.

Cleanup took more time than you wanted to dedicate to it, but you had learned from previous experiences with Beetlejuice and kept an emergency cleanup kit in the cabinet, tucked carefully behind the first aid kit. Among the items in the cleanup kit were wipes, a clean pair of underwear, some soothing lotion, and a good lip balm.

You used all of them and felt far more presentable when you stepped back into the office. It smelled strongly of sweat and sex and magic, so when you were dressed, you propped the door open and slid up the loading dock door.

“Okay, is your deal fulfilled now?” you asked, sitting back behind your desk and straightening the papers as best you could.

Beetlejuice looked lost for a moment, then guilty. “Ah… we never actually set up that you were payin’ the deal price…”

“Are you serious?” The demand was shrill, but you were feeling distinctly tender between your legs. The idea of jumping into another session was too much. “We absolutely did set that up!” 

“We did, I’m just messin’ with ya,” Beetlejuice told you with a grin. 

You squinted at him, feeling suddenly and deeply suspicious. There was a chance he was actually messing with you… but there was also a chance he had screwed up badly enough that he was lying to cover for himself. Either way, you decided to take him at his word. If he was lying, he could work out a solution for himself. “Yeah… Good one.”

Your attention had moved to the list in your hands for only a moment when Beetlejuice leaned over you. “What is that? Is it the same thing that’s gotcha so busy for the rest’a the day?”

“Not really,” you told him, turning the paper so he could see it. “I’m trying to build some inventory. And a few networks, but that’s much slower going.” 

“Inventory and networks for what?” he asked. 

With a sigh, you set the paper aside. You hadn’t been hiding this from Beetlejuice, per se… you just hadn’t known how to bring it up. It didn’t help that you never got more than a few minutes’ warning that he was going to be around. 

“I’m planning on opening the magical portion of the shop soon,” you explained. “Hopefully in the next few weeks. I want to build some inventory, but it’s tricky to work on it during the day. Less power, you know, and I have to worry that our employees are going to find out something they shouldn’t.”

Beetlejuice didn’t say anything for a while, and your stomach started to knot up with nerves. You were the day-to-day manager of Sinful, but he was still the owner. “Is there any interest?” 

“A lot, actually. We’ve had a few customers come in looking for it. They wanted to know when the products would be available for sale.” 

“How did they know about it?”

You gave a sheepish shrug. “I may have distributed a few samples at coven meetings.”

“And how did they take the idea of you ownin’ a store?” 

At that particular moment, you weren’t worried at all about how your coven felt, or even how the Council felt. You were more worried about the fact that you couldn’t tell how Beetlejuice felt. He wasn’t the most difficult person to read, and it was concerning that you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“I couldn’t tell them I own Sinful,” you told him. “My name isn’t on the paperwork. Remember? We re-filed it and put down a fake name for you. I had to tell them the owner is a human whose mother-in-law was a witch.” 

Beetlejuice barked out a laugh and you relaxed slightly. “Couldn’t make it easy, huh?” 

You smiled. “I needed there to be a reason why he knew about magic, otherwise, the Council would get weird.”

“What’re you gonna do if they wanna meet the owner?” he asked, picking at his nail polish. “Hire somebody?” 

You sighed. “I don’t know. I thought about hiring someone, but I’m back in the same place. I’d need to find a human who knows about magic, but can’t use any of it himself. He’d also have to be new to the area to explain how the coven didn’t know about him before. Maybe I’ll just play it off like he’s always gone for a while, then say he got in an accident…”

“Or I could just play human for ya,” Beetlejuice pointed out. 

The expression on your face was too disbelieving. It had crossed the line into offensive, you could feel that much. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” he demanded, clearly insulted. “I’m a master of illusions. See?” 

It was hard not to see that Beetlejuice was now sporting a rather impressive pair of breasts, especially since he was naked. When he saw the trajectory of your gaze, he preened, pushing his boobs together to create a generous line of cleavage. “See?” 

“Your illusions are good, but I don’t think that will work to convince the Council that you’re a human man with no magic.” 

“I don’t do illusions,” Beetlejuice scoffed. “Well, I do. But anything on me is one-hundred percent real, babes. Besides, I think you’re overlooking how realistic my illusions can be.” 

His nod encouraged your glance downward. You breathed a sigh of relief when saw that your breasts were exactly the same size they had always been, but you froze when your eyes moved a bit further down your body. There was a distinct bulge at your crotch, too large to be anything but…

“Maybe you should warn someone when you’re planning to give them a penis,” you told him, your casual tone hiding the way your pulse had inexplicably started to pound. 

“Okay, fair enough,” he admitted. The bulge disappeared. “But you see my point.”

“What I haven’t seen is your human impression.” You crossed your arms. “If this is it, I’ll have to hire someone. You can pass with normal humans, but witches will immediately know what you are.”

Beetlejuice nodded, a determined look on his face. You watched as he transformed. His jawline rounded, his chin losing the sharpness of its point. The angles of his face grew less unnatural and you watched the subtle points of his teeth disappear between his parted lips. His hair even flattened, losing some of the dramatic volume that made it so unique. 

The rest of the changes that happened were far more difficult to explain. Beetlejuice’s posture improved, but he seemed to get smaller His whole aura changed, going from something wicked and clever to a type of mild-mannered humor. 

When Beetlejuice opened his eyes, they were brown without a single hint of red. The gleeful look of chaos was missing from them, as was the sense that he was somehow harmlessly cruel. He had even dressed himself normally, and looked very average in a pair of dark jeans and a green tee shirt.

“What do you think?” 

The unaccented voice made you deeply uncomfortable, but you still nodded. “Looks believable. Hang on.” 

You got closer and closer, waiting to pick up some hint of magic or demonic energy, but there was nothing. When you were standing close enough to feel his body heat, you caught a faint trace of it, but it could easily be explained away by the potions, charms, and spells you intended to have on the premises. 

“It’s really good,” you eventually admitted. “Even the little bit of magic I sense from you could just be from the other magic in the store. I think the coven will buy it. I think even the Council would buy it. I don’t want to test that, though. Still, good job.”

“Thank you,” he said, nodding slightly. “I worked very hard on it.” 

His voice wasn’t bland or strangely plain, but it lacked of all of the inflection that made him Beetlejuice. You shook your head sharply. “Okay, you’ve proven your point. Stop it and go back to being yourself. This is just weird.” 

He glanced over at you, and you were almost relieved to see a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I need to practice. If I need to play human, I’ll have to make it believable.”

“Ugh,” you said with a shudder. You went to your desk, eager to get away from the uncanny Beetlejuice.

He followed you. “Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it? We needed this rain. Do you have any coffee? I’m not human until I have a cup. I was mowing the lawn yesterday and I’m still worn out. I might need to take a nap later, but then it’ll be hard to sleep tonight.” 

You fought to keep a straight face, giving him a severe look. “Are you done?” 

Beetlejuice paused, considering for a moment. “Taxes.”

For some reason you couldn’t explain, that broke you. You laughter made Beetlejuice laugh, and he let the human disguise slip away. 

“Okay, even though it devolved into Suburban Dad at the end, I think that’s a pretty believable human impression.” You studied the sheet of inventory you had built up so far. “What do you think about opening the attic for specialty items in a few weeks?” 

Beetlejuice shrugged. “Up to you, babes. You’re the manager. I’m just along for the ride and to play meat puppet every now and then.”

“Two weeks it is,” you decided. “And I’ll work on figuring out a spell that can narrow down those summonings for you.” 

“Ya mean it?” Beetlejuice asked excitedly. “That would be great! It would really save me a lotta time.” 

“I can’t make any promises about when it will be ready,” you warned. “Or any guarantees that it’ll work when it’s done. Don’t blame me if it goes wrong.” 

Beetlejuice chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s gonna start writin’ demonic contracts. Deal, babes. Just lemme know when you’re done.”

And then he disappeared, leaving a haze of smoke and a faintly spicy smell in the air of the office. You shook your head and went back to planning, jotting a few notes and ideas about the theoretical spell into the margin of your page.

---

Author's Note - As much as I hate to say it: despite my ever-increasing wip pile, I'm probably not done with these two. I'm not sure when I'll get around to writing more for them, but I'll make sure to link it here. Alternately, you can find me on AO3 under username InkSplots.

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs mean the world!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for telling people I don’t work here?

Ok so it’s Saturday morning and I (28M) don’t have a lot on my mind, besides like maybe lunch, I’m a little hungover so I go to the supermarket really to just get out of the house. Then suddenly this woman approaches way to fast and her eyes are intense And she spits on me a little as she asks, “where do you keep the pasta?” and I’m confused but I try to be polite so I say, “I dunno aisle 3?” And then she demands get it for her! I just stand there for a moment because I was just trying to get a Gatorade and I don’t want to deal with this, but then she rolls her eyes and I kind of lose it. 

So I tell her, “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not sell you shit!” And then I say, ”Maybe should work here so I can hide all the things you want from you!” and, “If I did work here do you think I’d be wearing a dirty white singlet? Ya fool!” Then I noticed the pasta was there the whole fucking time so I tell her, “Silly me I’ve had the pasta all along. Fuck you” and she starts crying. 

So now it’s the afternoon and I’m not going to lie, I feel really great about making a middle age woman cry today. So I’m taking a walk on the hot sand on the beach and decide to take a rest in the shade of the lifeguard tower (and my foresight readies me for melee) so then this man runs up from the surf way to fast, with a bluebottle across his chest he shakes me as he asks “you’ve got to save my kid!” But I can’t swim, so I tell him that, and he gets all upset and goes “what kind of a kid guard are you then?” And I’m tired and just wanted to take a nap but he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.

And I tell him “Hey! I don’t work here but if I did I would not save your kid!” And then I tell him “maybe I should work here that way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you” and I tell him “do you think a life guard would make a race car out of sand then fall asleep?” And then I get a bit sidetracked thinking about how I should probably get a job and I guess I’m mumbling because the guy asks if I was thinking about saving his son and I tell him no and he says “What about my son, he's drowning?!” Then I look over his shoulder and see that no he isn’t and I tell him "Your son's fine, he just swims weird, and you shouldn't hold that against him.” And the guy turns around to check and I take that as my moment to get out of there.

So it’s night now and I’m not thinking about much just kicking a ball down the street then I give it to much juice and it flies over the fence of my local NASA compound (just bear with me) I climb over the fence to get it when I realize the guards are all passed out and it seems there’s been a planed attack. The alarms are blaring but I’m the only one in tact. I try to phone for help but something must be blocking it. And they’re an alien transmitting itself to NASA screens specifically. And the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I’m trying to figure out way to do or find any one who can actually handle this and I tell the aliens but it just repeats “Give us ya planet” and I try to get someone to answer me and tell them we’re under attack and again the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I try to tell it that I don’t have the authority to do that but it just won’t listen. I just came to get my ball but it’s been a long day so I’ll speak for all of humanity. 

(Also I didn’t know this at the time but apparently this had worldwide news coverage)

So I tell the alien “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not surrender shit!” And I tell it “maybe I should work here that way I could take a trip to mars and strangle you!” And I ask “Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?” And at this point I’m just letting out all the anger from the day and I tell it  “maybe I should work here that way I could put my planetary fist in you, I could teach your kid to drown in front of you, and I could hide all of the linguini from you!” 

Then the alien fucked right off and also I’m the president of earth now. So AITA

[wannaeatramyeon]

Taehun with s/o who is smart, introverted (kind of) like his personality as well except for being a bastard. S/o who is like on more matured side. She was like a 'manager' or 'mom' of their group (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Thanks for the ask! I havent written anything for Taehoon in a hot second but anon why was this so hard to write 😭 is my brain fried? Am I just dumb? SURPRISE it's both.

And that guy's hair is out of control in this pic.

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Unnie/Noona

3 lil scenarios with the Yoo Hobin Company

You don't keep track of where Taehoon goes.

Not that you really care, but your boyfriend is pretty predictable anyway. He's either with you, practicing at the studio, playing at the arcade, or hanging at the Yoo Hobin Company house.

If he's at the latter without you, your absence will be duly noted by your phone pinging incessantly:

Rumi: Unnie, we miss you <3

Gaeul: Please come over!

Mangi: It'll be nice to see you :)

Hobin: HELP MASTER SEONG SAID HE'S GOING TO KILL ME

Snapper: AND ME

Snapper: pls hurry

You think the record is 297 messages and 40 missed calls from the collective. You were napping, you didn't avoid them on purpose!

But regardless of what you might have had planned, you have a soft heart for the kids. If they come calling, you would try to see them.

"Stalking me again?" Taehoon gives a teasing quip whenever you make your appearance.

The words have no bite, he loves having you around.

.

.

You're only part of the company by association, but it's sweet that you got invited along to their next holiday.

Only a shame that no one had the foresight to put any sort of itinerary together or even research the area beforehand.

Trying to help them out, you message the group chat with some suggestions of cafes and sights. In exchange, you hoped for some alone time with Taehoon.

You both enjoy lunch before meandering through a park together.

...Until you turn around and find five pairs of curious eyes belonging to the rest of the company staring back.

"Why are you here, piss off." Taehoon starts to launch a kick at Hobin but you manage to hold him back in time.

"Erm, can we help you?"

"Noona!" Hobin gives you what he must have thought were cute puppy eyes. (You're not a violent person, but you agree with Taehoon that he does have a punchable face.) "We don't know what to do next!"

Rumi chips in, "Can we please hang with you and Taehoon?"

So much for spending some time with your boyfriend.

.

.

Tonight, you could practically feel the Yoo Hobin Company physically unclench as you enter the room.

It might be due to the fact you're the only one that could rein Taehoon in when he's on a rampage.

Mangi had texted you as a matter of urgency.

"Who the fuck drank my beer?"

Ah, there it is. You take in the group, all looking tense as Taehoon looms over them.

Typical of your boyfriend to blow this out of proportion. But honestly? Why would anyone purposely try to set this bomb off.

Shit. You notice Snapper a little red faced and swaying. He actually drank it?! You better step in.

"Taehoon?"

"What?" he doesn't take his eye off them.

"Why don't we just go and get some more?"

"You know I hate people touching my things,"

"I know but I'm sure Hobin wouldn't mind putting some on company expense,"

"..."

"And there's probably some petty cash for the arcade."

That piques his interest. Taehoon stops scowling and turns to you, "Yeah?"

"Yep," you smile and take his hand, "Snapper, why don't you go have a look for some cash?"

Not needing to be told twice, Snapper takes this as his cue to make a swift exit.

"I'll help!" Gaeul pipes up, and scuppers off to join him.

Taehoon softens up at the thought of free beer and spending the night at the arcade with you.

Crisis averted.