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#only he can stand like this and get away with it
mywritersmind · 3 days
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WINNING KISS - LN4
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summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
⋆。‧˚⋆
I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
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sukunasweetheart · 2 days
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Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.
A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.
You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.
"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.
Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."
He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.
"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"
You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.
"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."
What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.
"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.
"Today is supposed to be my birthday."
Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.
"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"
"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."
"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."
Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.
He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.
Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.
For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.
His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.
"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.
"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"
You also hand him a different small item.
"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."
He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.
"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.
"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."
And then you leave him after a quick wave.
Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.
The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.
-
Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.
At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.
Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.
He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.
There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.
Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.
You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.
You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.
He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.
Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.
"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"
"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."
"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.
Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.
"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.
"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."
"Origami, huh? How original."
"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."
"You got a lot of people signed up?"
"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."
You smile up at him hopefully.
"...is the offer still open?"
You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.
"You know. Lessons for grown adults."
"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"
"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Let’s go."
Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.
You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.
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defmaybe · 2 days
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J’adore
5.2k words
aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader
Prequel to Not Shy
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A/N: Kind of extension to Not Shy! Also, this is my last sprint before the midterms lol, I’ll be back after that and try to write something good. Kinda rough bc there’s no beta-reading lol. Thanks for reading as always!!!
Spring
“You? A student council member?”
“It’s just the treasurer!”
It’s the easiest position, according to your seniors, which seems to be much, much more credible sources than Kai, the friend you got caught in a debate with.
“Just the treasurer. Mate, have you seen the lads from last year? I swear that one of them almost died.”
“I have to build my portfolio, man. You even have your dance club!” You retort, trying to grasp on something.
“Well, it’s because I like to dance.” Kai says in a mocking tone. He doesn't mean to be condescending, of course. He’s your best friend, after all. “Do you like to work with Excel?”
“I mean–”
“Board games? No, too nerdy. Cheerleader? No, too demanding. And then you fucking jumped onto the student council? I swear, man, you definitely have some kind of death wish,” he says.
You sigh, surrendering to his points. Still, you're too deep in the application process to turn back now. You look back at your phone, seeing all the completed questions in the form.
“I’m not leaving you behind, still,” Kai says, patting your back. “I’ll give you caffeine when you need it.”
Do you think you’re qualified to be a student council member?
Yes.
“I’m sending it now.”
“Good luck.”
Submit
Thank you for your submission. We will announce our selection by May 1st.
Summer
Maybe it was how the last year’s council members turned out to be. You were the only one who applied for the treasurer's position. Hell, even the other ones aren’t any more popular either. There was no one in the head of first aid, and they had to roll out another round of applications for that.
The fresh faces of the new student council members are all standing inside this meeting room—so determined, so passionate. Their chatters fill the room up with life.
You glance around the room. You’re familiar with some of them, walk-pasts in the hallways, sitting-fars in the classes, until one woman catches your eye.
Yoo Jimin, you’ve heard that she beat the second place applicant for president by quite a margin. Her confidence is probably what makes her so alluring to the students. Also, her face, fuck, her face, she’s the fucking epitome of perfection.
Maybe it’s the way you stare at her for just a little too long; she starts to walk towards you, and that’s when you fell into her trap for the first time.
She stops just a step away, offering you a handshake—firm, assured.
“Yoo Jimin,” she declares—stern, expressionless.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jimin.” You accept her grip, lips curling inward, letting out a minuscule smile—relaxed, reserved.
“We’ll be working together for the next year. I’m looking forward to it.” She keeps it professional in the expression she makes. There’s nothing to be made of it, except for the fact that she’s very reticent with her face.
You force out another small smile. “I’m also looking forward to it, Jimin.”
“Areas! I need two tables and four chairs. Parcels, get your equipment ready.”
The first meeting between the freshmen and their seniors is always the hardest to perfect. There’s the idea that the first impression defines the future of the relationship between the two. So, here you are, in your faculty’s First Meet event. You’re lucky that they let you use the air conditioners on the d-day. Those fucking run-throughs got you all melted.
You have little work to do today, having managed the proposals and preparing to do the post-production stuff. So, you’re at the core team’s table, playing whatever your old laptop can handle, until—
“Are you free?”
You look up from your screen to see the angelic figure that is Yoo Jimin standing in front of you, towering you with ease with you sitting in your seat.
“Uh–,” you can only let out a hesitation.
“I guess you’re—” she bends over the desk to see the gaming screen, before letting out a small laugh. “—free?”
“Y–Yes, Jimin.” A slight view of her cleavage can be seen with her posture, and you have to do your best to find something else to look at.
“Good. Can you help us carry a few tables?”
You look at your frail arms—should’ve done some more work at the gym. “If you want me to tear my biceps.”
Jimin chuckles, before closing on your ear, left hand pressing on your right thigh, “Don’t worry that you wouldn’t be able to jerk off, treasurer. I can do it for you.”
You freeze, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. Did she just say that? Such lewd words?
Jimin, sensing your tensed up body, pulls back from you and laughs. “Oh my god, look at you. I was just fucking with you!”
“Good grief, Jimin. You could’ve killed me,” you huff.
She shoots back a beam. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
Fall
The clicking sound of your keyboard and the scratches of the bills you’re arranging permeates the room this evening. Jimin is sitting on the other side of the trash-ridden table—stationeries, snack wraps—eyes unfocused as she swipes one short video after another. Her thoughts seem to be elsewhere now. Dinner? Bed? Someone? You’ll never know.
“Fucking hell, this bitch again,” she mutters under her breath, which you catch. You look up from the budget plan you’re working on, meeting her eyes.
“Sorry, Tinder stuff.”
You return her a tiny smile before going back to inputting the bills. Still, you can hear Jimin’s tossing and turning in her chair as she seems to type something into her phone, before smashing her thumb on the right side of its poor screen. You can’t help but let out a chuckle, one that she catches.
“Yeah, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” Jimin rhetorizes, placing her phone on the table. “A student president that just can’t find any partner.”
You shrug, still typing, “Well, the work is gruelling.” And she chuckles at your statement.
“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s just, how to explain?” She furrows her eyebrows, tapping her chin to seek the right word in the air, before coming to an answer. “I just can’t find the right person, you know? Half of the line is gone once I show any bit of confidence, and the other half are, well, clingy ass bitches.”
You smile back at her, trying to give her some solace in solitude. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon, Jimin. You like–have the whole faculty in your hands.”
She gives you a weak smile. “You always have pleasant words for everyone, treasurer.”
You smile back before returning to your accounting work, unbeknownst to the light bulb brightening up inside her head.
“So, how’s your love life?” She asks, rising from the other side. She leans forward ever so slightly, hands supporting her frame on the white table, slightly revealing the valley of her breasts.
You break yourself from the laptop, once again, meeting her cleavage in your line of sight for a split second. It’s magnetic, but you’re able to resist it, for now.
“Hmm?”
“I mean… you don’t seem to be an awful choice for women, or men, judging from… how many months?”
“Four,” and you gulp.
“Yeah, four months with you, my treasurer. But I’ve never quite caught you being involved in anything,”—she stands up straight, before slowly striding towards your seat, hips swaying at each nifty step—“romantic.”
You clench your eyes ever so tightly at her alluring motion—the swaying hips, the crossing steps—as if there’s anything to examine but her burning lust. “Well, Jimin, I don’t think the passive mid-table guys get much,” you state.
“Is that so? Because you don’t seem to belong at the mid-table.” The distance between you two is shrinking, slowly. And with a few more small steps, you find her towering over you, chest basking in front of your face.
Jimin bends down slowly, revealing just a slight sight of her gorgeous cleavage. The poor crop top is struggling to hold her supple flesh within, even with the workshop shirt helping. You shift just slightly in your seat.
Your eyes are doing their best to resist the magnetic force, but her big brown eyes aren't a sanctuary, either.
“Thanks, miss president.”
Her Dior J’adore is enrapturing you.
“You know, I notice the perfume you wear every day, even if it’s just CK One.” She forces sultry into her perceptive words, and to say, it works. She drags her right middle finger along the length of your arm, lighting a fire in its trail.
You try to keep your composure; it works, for now. She doesn’t seem to notice the sweat hanging off your forehead yet.
“Or how you dress so damn well to class, even if it’s some fuckass subject,” Jimin continues, tracing her hands up to your forearm now.
Your breath hitches, and you can just connect the dots so easily.
“W–Why me, though, Jimin?”
“Oh, clever boy, I just need the real thing, that’s all,” she coos. Her digits are playing with the line of your collarbones now. 
“See, I’m just so fucking sick of my—well, what’s the word, devices. They’re pleasurable, sure, but unlike a real person, which in this case—is you—” Her hand grabs your chin from behind, and you can’t find any resistance. Her sonic reduces into a sensual whisper into your ear. “—they lack warmth.”
“S–So, do you want to have—”
“Sex? Yes, I want you inside me, baby. I want you body clashing against mine, while you moan my name like you’re some common whore.”
It’s haywire, your mind. You are lost in her—her voice, her face, her body, everything that’s about Jimin. Is she really inviting you to have sex with her? Is this interaction even real?
“So, what do you say, wanna go somewhere after this? Somewhere—small, somewhere—private.” Her voice dives into a whisper beside your ear, and you can feel a smile forming beside it. “I’m sure you can work on your bills—anywhere.”
You stare forward, trying to look unfazed to cover your crumbling composure.
“I–I can work on the bills anywhere, Jimin.” Your voice betrays you.
She gives a quiet laugh, “Good to know, treasurer,” before lightly grabbing your chin, with her index and middle finger resting on your lips. Are they seeking silence or entry?
Slowly, they push your upper lip ever so slightly, eliciting a whimper from you. Fuck, is she trying to—
“You know what to do, baby.”
Rejection.
Hesitation.
Submission.
You open your mouth for her—now courtesy of Yoo Jimin. You take in her fingers. They’re cold from the air conditioner. Bite. Lick. Swallow. You close your eyes while doing so, absorbing her taste with your tongue. You feel you’re under her control—so submissive. It’s ecstatic.
“God, do you like being called a whore? Because you’re acting like one right now,” Jimin asks.
You profusely nod at her statement, continuing to suck on her fingers.
“Then keep doing it, whore.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you can hear her giggle. And as your vision comes back to her, the free hand is rubbing against her clothed core now. Mewling sounds can be heard.
“God, keep sucking it, baby. I’ve never cummed as fast as this before.”
“Ngh.” And you keep sucking her fingers.
A sound of the door stops you in your tracks though.
“Guys, I need a few chairs–am I interrupting something?”
Ning Yizhuo, head of student welfare, barges into the room. She stares straight at you two. Good thing Jimin pulls her digits out and puts them behind her back before Yizhuo’s eyes catch sight of you glistening on her, leaving you stranded in your burning desire for your president.
Maybe it’s the way your eyes are still fluttering. Maybe it’s the way your mouth ever so slightly hangs open. Maybe it’s your quick breaths.
Yizhuo wants to know what’s up.
“We’re just–” Jimin tries to find the right word in your eyes. Her blinks are rapid. She’s concerned. She’s afraid.
“You’re–what?” Yizhuo isn’t a patient figure. She’s trying to gauge something out of Karina.
“I–I’m adjusting his posture! O–Our dear treasurer has a bad sitting posture and–”
“Cut the shit, Jimin. What the fuck did you guys do?”
“S–See, he’s sitting a lot, you know? B–Bills. Accounting. Excel stuff.” Jimin’s brows hint at the concern within her chuckle. She pushes the middle of your back to set you straight up. As you follow her move, Yizhuo clenches her eyes.
“Just get me some chairs and don’t fuck inside this room.”
Jimin swings her door open, and as expected, every single bit of it is immaculately kept clean. There’s not a single piece of trash on the floor of her white room; the table is meticulously arranged; the bed is folded. There’s a Meteora vinyl placed on her shelf. God, what a tasteful woman.
“Drop your bag.”
You comply as she also does so.
And she immediately pounces on your body, consuming your taste and scent at your nape. Her lips are wet, sending shocks through your pliant frame.
“Mmph, keep this perfume, baby. I just wanna have this scent of you every day.”
It’s CK One.
She plants her kisses along your neck—standing up straight—ever so determined to make you hers. Her hands lock your shifting, shaking body in place, despite being so eager to feel every inch of you—up and down.
“So—pliant, so—submissive,” she whispers.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you deflect, trying to have a hold of the battle. There’s a glint of brattiness inside you that wants to resist her just a little, just before you give in.
“Is that so?” Jimin mewls, before pushing you onto the bed.
“I’m not letting you have me that easily, miss president,” you say with your back against her soft cushion. Jimin is straddling her lean, lengthy legs over yours. She looks so damn tall from this view—you lying beneath her.
“Sucking my fingers, then decide to be a bratty bitch right now—” She lightly taps the tip of your nose, also scrunching hers. “—I like that.”
You say nothing, giving her just a wink from below.
“Oh, baby, I’ll have you scream my name so many times.”
“Fucking make me then.”
And fires ignite in her eyes.
She dives onto your left ear—nibbling, biting, swallowing, whatever she can do with her mouth without tearing your auricle off. Her deep moans send suppressed shudders through your neurons.
Jimin spreads saliva all over your ear, no sign of relenting. Slurping sounds of her flesh ring in your head. She plants each lick with purpose, and it sends jolts and jolts through your body. Still, you’re far from falling apart—tethered on the ground.
“Tsk, i–is this the best y–you can do?”
“Oh, baby, you’re already stuttering? I can do more if you want~,” she tastefully threatens. Then, she brings her right hand into play, tilting your chin up. Your mouth is right beside her neck. The pale smoothness of her skin is presented in front of you, and you just can’t help but—
“F–Fuck!” Jimin yells, clearly enraptured with the swipes of tongue you are giving her. Still, she keeps spreading her saliva on your ear as if it’s hers (it’s hers).
“Oh, b–baby boy, maybe you can use your t–tongue on other things instead,” she whines.
“Your cunt?” You keep stretching your tongue onto her nape, getting a taste of her sweat.
She pulls back from you, robbing the sensations away from your throat. “Clever, now just lie like this. I’m riding your pretty face.”
Jimin then takes off her purple lace panties, giving you a hint of her wet cunt—unshaved—as she lifts her leg, before stuffing the garment onto your nose. Fuck, her musk is so intense; you can just die happily right here.
“You just love it, don’t you?”
You sheepishly nod, pressing her panties against your nose even tighter, eliciting laughs from her sinful mouth.
“I think that’s enough, baby. I wanna fuck your face now,” she says, before tossing away the filthy garment.
Jimin then moves forward on her knees, bringing her heat closer and closer to your face. God, the fact that she’s unshaved only brings you higher. You need to slurp her juice; you need it on your face, you–
“Ready?”
Her cunt is hovering above you now, she’s pulling her skirt up, letting you see her face for the last time before being buried under her.
You nod.
And she sinks onto your face.
The first contact is soft, so, so soft. You’re practically making out with pussy, as she shakes above you erratically. There isn’t much light, with her skirt darkening your vision of what’s around, but it’s like you’d complain. You’re eating your student president out in her room, and you’re doing it so, so well that it sends shivers through her body, again and again.
“Ngh, f–fuck!” Jimin shouts from above—the things you’d do to see her face right now, to see an effect you’re having on her.
You say nothing, just keep lapping up her folds enthusiastically. Her juice drips into your mouth—sweet.
Jimin starts to grind her hips, as the moans grow louder. She’s getting wetter, and you’re still happily drinking her sugary nectar—drunk with it.
“Ah, ah, y–you’re doing well, my treasurer.”
You give her a thumbs up. You keep licking her cunt as if your life is depending on it. She moans so loud; everyone on this floor is probably going to hear that, but you don’t care anymore. The only thing in your head right now is to please Jimin—only Yoo Jimin.
And you can feel her thighs tense, shaking with pleasure. She’s going to cum. Her moans grow more chaotic and shorter than they were.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”
She cums hard, collapsing onto the bed, cunt still on your face, ass up in the air. Her core clenches and clenches on your face, and she just forgets to breathe as her hips convulse.
“No squirt today, huh?” you joke from below.
She snaps back into the situation she’s in, sneering, “Fuck off, don’t fucking play stupid with me, wh–whore.”
You laugh, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the main course, shall we?”
“Y–Yeah.”
Jimin lifts off from you, leaving a string of her lubricant between your lips and her cunt.
“God, that’s hot,” you just can’t help but say it.
She giggles, and you can now see the sweat forming on her forehead; there’s beauty in it.
You two, in a haste, discard all of your clothes until you’re left with nothing—just bare bodies on the bed together. You’re sitting opposite of her, expecting her to say something.
She looks ethereal under the room light. The messy hair, the perfect features, the bare body, they all combine into the epitome of perfection right in front of you. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
“Can I suck your tits?” you mutter. Fuck reticence, you need her, now.
She chuckles. “Sure, but only if I’m on top of you.”
“You just have to find a way to dominate me, don’t you?” you huff.
“Don’t say it like you don’t like it, baby.” She caresses your cheeks, and you shiver at her touch.
You lie down, as she slowly eclipses the light above both of you. Her large breasts are hanging down so close to your face. And—
“F–Fuck!”
You latch your mouth on her right breast as if it’s innate, with your hand kneading on the other. She lets out empyrean moans that only makes you want to suck on them even more. God, you can do this all day.
And not wanting to wait anymore, she impales her cunt with your cock, and you can only moan into her tits. This sensation, it’s overwhelming. Her velvety walls are hugging you so, so tightly. It’s so warm. She’s warm.
“Fuck,” she groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Your cock is so well-bent, baby. It’s hitting my g-spot so good.”
“T–Thanks, J–Jimin.” Your mind is so damn clouded by the pleasure that you can say nothing but her name right now.
And a crack starts to form when she moves—up and down. Her unshaved cunt dragging along your digit, emanating pleasure all over your body from the core.
“B–Babe, c–can you stop s–sucking my tits?” she pleads.
You pull yourself out of her mounds, as she’s still riding you like there’s no tomorrow, and you let out small moans at each contact. “W–What? Ngh.”
“I wanna kiss you.”
You freeze under her. She’s still motioning herself to squeeze the cum out of you, whimpering each time your cock hits the hilt. Is it a confession? Does she love—
“B–Babe,” she brings you back to the mortal world.
“Y–Yeah, kiss me.”
She invades your mouth as if it wasn’t already hers at the second she sits on your face. Your tongues intertwine in a quest to declare their feelings of their owners.
Your hands are still squeezing her breasts. It’s addictive. You press and press into her flesh just to feel her as much as you can. This might as well be the only body you want to have just to yourself, as you dedicate yours to her. Every curve, every contour, every limb, you want her; you want her to want you; you need her. This kiss, fuck, it’s doing wonders to you.
She’d be the one to break off from the kiss to pant above you, hips still smashing into yours in a perfect rhythm.
“W–Wanna go out with me?” she asks.
She’s desperate, all the Tinder dates, all the–
“Babe, I–I fucking know that it’s desperate, yes or no. Fuck those Tinder dates, fuck those guys and girls, I–I want to go out with you, t–treasurer,” she pants.
Maybe it’s her J’adore that’s permeating all over you. Maybe it’s the way your hips are clashing into each other. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the glint in her eyes.
But if you have to recall, it’d be the confidence she’s radiating in clashing your flesh together just right now.
You nod.
Jimin smiles, pulling you into another kiss. You swear it can tear you apart if you have to let this woman go—figuratively.
She pulls off, her breaths becoming shorter and shorter again. “C–Can you cum with me, baby?”
Again, you nod, smiling. It’s inside your loins, building up, building up. Your body tenses up beneath her, same as hers. It’s there. It’s there.
“Fuck, baby, breed me. I’m yours, just breed me, just–ugh!”
And her whole body freezes, juices flowing onto your crotch. Her face is contorted by the pleasure coursing through her. Again, she forgets to breathe, back arching. You don’t slow down, though. Your orgasm is coming too.
“B–Babe–ah!”
It breaks. You busy yourself inside her to the hilt. Just like her, you forget to breathe. You shoot spurts of your seed deep into her womb, intending to breed her as her wish. Your cock shakes inside her, as she moans at each twitch.
It subsides, eventually. The shots get softer and softer to the point the cum just dribbles off the tip of you now. Fuck, your juices even leak out of her cunt onto your crotch, mixed together.
“F–Fuck,” is all she can say, before collapsing onto you, chest pressed up against yours.
“The plan’s still up?”
“Yeah.”
And she slips to the side, embracing you from behind, as you two doze off in the nocturne.
“Can I use your toothbrush?”
A long drag of uncertainty comes from the outside. Sun has risen hours ago, yet you two are still in the drowsy state.
“Or do I have to kiss you again for the answer, Jimin?”
“Put your morning breath away from me!”
At least she’s quick with her riposte.
As you brush your teeth, naked, she saunters into the bathroom, still similarly bare from last night. Her breasts bounce ever so slightly with each step in the mirror. Despite the disheveled appearance, her natural beauty shines through the mess—a seraphic being, one might say.
“Ha, yeah, I know I’m pretty, baby,” she says. “People would kill to have a body like me.”
You finish your clean up, before saying, “You’re insufferable, you know?”
Jimin laughs, before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, emanating mellow all over your face. Fuck, you can feel the blood rushing to your erection now.
“You too, babe.” She smiles, before grabbing her mouthwash for a gargling.
Your cock, again, finds the condition to rise in front of this woman. It’s twitching, and you just have to turn back before she notices it.
Still, her sharp eyes find you, and she gives you a small slap on your bare ass, sending pleasure rushing through your body.
“Hey!” she growls with the mouthwash, before quickly disposing of it. “You’re fucking hard again?”
“I–I–I–uh–”
Jimin then presses herself up against your back, arms ever so tightly trapping you from behind in a hug. It’s warm. She’s warm.
“Let me, baby,” she whispers against your wobbling right ear. “I can’t have my co-workers’ needs go unsated.”
“F–Fucking hell.”
In one careful motion, Jimin slides her arms down to your erection, right hand grabbing the length. “Wouldn’t mind some respect from my baby boy~” Her grip and the languid, careful strokes make your legs wobble.
“Tsk, n–no fucking way, J–Jimin,” you muster any inhibition you have left to deflect.
“Well, then.” Jimin then tightens her hold on your cock, transpiring both pain and pleasure to you. “How about now?”
“Nghhhh, f–fuck,” you cry out, the contorted expression appears in the mirror.
“Just like that, baby, moan for me. Show me who owns you,” Jimin coos, loosening her hold a slight, still keeping the adagio tempo.
“Nnnh, J–Jimin.”
“Good boy, good boy,” she murmurs.
She drags her filthy hand up and down your cock so leisurely, finding the rhythm for your pliancy. She strokes and strokes to build you up to the second release with her, this time by her hand.
It feels like eternity—the way her unhurried digits find the pace that would make you want so much more, or how she whispers ‘good boy’ into your ear every time she wants a whiff of reassurance of control. It’s like she needs one, anyway, judging by how you’re moaning like a bitch right now.
“God, you’re making so much sound for me.” The way she swipes her index finger at the tip of your cock on each stroke, fuck, you can fall onto the floor right here and now. “Wanna see your face in the mirror, baby?”
You turn your head leftwards to find reflections of a contorted face and a grin side by side. Her hand is diligent as ever—building you up to your inevitable release.
“What do you say, baby? Wanna see our faces in the mirror?” she inquires again. You can feel a mischievous smile beside your ear.
“Ngnh, a–alright.”
With ease, she forces your body to turn into your image of the ball of lust—the shower of kisses on your neck; the hand sliding up and down your cock; the thigh pressing up against your ass. You shift and shift within her restraint, and that seems to only fuel her fire.
“Moan some more for me, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I want my men moaning.”
You comply, letting out a series of whimpers just for your student president. The sensation of her hand is so damn enthralling—each slide, each nick of a finger, each twist of her wrist, they are all designed to make you surrender to her.
“Good boy. Your moans are so pleasing to hear, you know that?”
“Nngh, t–thanks, Jimin.”
“Wanna up the ante, baby? I can do it faster~” As if her languid tempo isn’t already doing its job in trapping you inside her overflowing lust.
You hesitate, finding yourself wanting this act to go on to such lengths, maybe even when the sun sets again. Being under her comforting warmth is too satisfying.
“I–I don’t know, Jimin.”
“Oh, this baby can’t decide? Guess I’ll just have to–”
She suddenly lets go of your length, cutting your string of desire so easily. You whine, as Jimin lets out a laugh.
“Don’t!” you say in a rush, and letting go the hand you haven’t realized you’ve been holding—hers.
Jimin giggles. “Say please, baby.” She tightens her hug on you, squeezing the plea out.
Your eyes meet hers in the mirror.
“Please, Jimin.”
“Good boy.” And she wraps her hand around your erection again, casually stroking it.
“Ngh.”
The sound of her jerking your shaft fills the room. It’s heavenly—her voluptuous chest pressing up against your arching back with right hand busy sliding on your rod. She does it so cleanly—the technique, the pace. You swear you will cum by the second she whispers another ‘good boy’ into your welcoming ears.
As if she knows your inevitable release, she seeks a higher speed on your cock, stroking it with a swiftness that tries to draw out your moan and your cum as much as she can.
“Ngh, J–Jimin,” you whimper.
“Oh, gonna cum already, baby?” Jimin giggles at your crumble, before giving a peck on your left cheek. “Go on, cum for me. Cum, just like you did last night inside me.”
White spots start to form within your vision. Your breaths become more erratic. It’s there. It’s there.
“Jimin~”
And you explode all over her mirror, painting white streaks on it. You are left with ecstasy on your face as Jimin smiles at your release. Your body shrieks and shudders in her embrace. Your cock twitches in her hand, sending flying ropes of cum everywhere. Fuck.
“Yes, baby, just like that.” Her voice is deep—so seductive.
You continue to shake in her hold, not being able to subside from your high so quickly. Your release grows lighter and lighter in her hand, until it comes out in drops, finally letting you catch your breath.
“Good boy,” Jimin says, before forcing your body towards hers. You are spun around, and she gives you a kiss.
It’s short, but it’s powerful—no tongue fighting for dominance, no slurping sounds, just a kiss.
And she pulls back from it once she’s satisfied, judging from the smile on her face.
“Wanna do this again?” she asks.
“Definitely—well—maybe. You know Yizhuo would beat our asses if she catches us again, right?”
“Just shut up, babe. She won’t know if you’re good with secrets like me.”
You pout, bringing out a laugh from her.
Winter
“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Kai asks.
You give him a small smile. “It’s bearable, yeah.”
“Good to know, good to know.” He then takes a sip of his latte from his cup, looking outside.
“Fuck, I forgot to ask you this,” you say. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Oh yeah! In fact, there’s a woman I've been seeing recently, Yizhuo. You probably know her, right? You guys are working together,” Kai answers.
“Oh,” you utter. “Oh.”
He chuckles, before continuing, “Yeah, I know it’s weird–”
“No, no, not at all, bro,” you deflect with a chuckle along with him. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Kai, still chuckling, inquires, “How about you? It’s gotta be more than ‘bearable’ for you to be all happy like this.”
You give him a smile.
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emmyrosee · 1 day
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Rintaro and you try to keep your cute affections consistent after Akito.
Being young parents in love, it’s a much easier task on paper, the screaming toddler and said child clinging to your every limb definitely puts the slightest damper on things.
You try to sneak kisses in the hallway, passing each other during dinner, as you both go about your mornings, but it’s just beyond difficult when it comes to a tiny terror running amuck.
One who also seems to get jealous when he’s not included in affections regarding you. No peaceful hugs, no cuddling, and certainly no kisses when your son is around, who quickly toddles his way between you both to get that attention from you, then from Rin.
He loves being the center of attention, the center of your attentions, and while it is more than endearing to you, you can tell it is hitting Rintaro in areas he didn't know were possessive until he has to share you with a tiny, feral child.
And now, standing over a bowl of fruit, when you feel two arms snake around your waist, you melt into the touch, relishing in the attention for as long as you can.
“Hey momma,” he murmurs against your hair. “Going for my run, you need anything before I go?”
“Just my goodbye kiss,” you hum, and he grins as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you wrap your arms around his neck and forget about the rest of the world. Rin always has that effect on you, it’s amazing, and-
“Dadda no!” Akito whines, toddling over quickly.
Rintaro pulls back and furrows his brows in betrayal, “what do you mean no?”
“No k’mumma!” He commands, jamming himself between the two of you, a tiny palm pressing Rin's thigh to try and push him away from you. You bring your hands up to cover your mouth as to try and hide your laughter while Rintaro pouts his two year old. “My mumma,” he echos, wrapping his arms around your leg.
“Awww honey,” you coo, crouching down to curl Akito into your arms, kissing his chubby cheeks. “My akito boy.” He giggles at the attention, arms wrapping around you. You scoop him up, smiling as he curls against your chest.
“I’m not playing this game,” Rintaro grumbles. He leans down to kiss your head, only for a chubby hand to shove him away. “Akito.“
“My mumma.”
“I do not like this.”
“Hey. You were the favorite for a long time. It’s my turn,” you tease, planting a quick kiss to Rintaro’s cheek, “I’ll give you affection once you get back, he'll be eating breakfast by then, so I'll see what I can schedule you in for.” You send him a wink, and he pouts at your not-so-seriousness.
“You’d better,” he huffs. He looks at his son and sighs dramatically before trying to plant a kiss to his head, but he coos as Akito tips his head to get a kiss on the cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute, kid.”
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days
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hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?
tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43
PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader
SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n
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As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.
However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.
Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.
When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.
“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”
You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.
After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.
When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.
“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”
He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”
His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.
You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”
Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”
You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.
“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”
Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”
You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”
He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”
Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.
You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.
Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”
Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”
You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”
“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”
Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”
Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”
As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.
After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.
You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.
Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.
“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”
He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.
Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.
You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.
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tinystarbites · 3 days
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accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader
Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)
here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!
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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.
His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-
It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-
“Spencer?”
He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-
“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-
He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –
“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”
An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.
After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.
And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.
For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.
“Hi.”
You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.
You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.
“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”
Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.
“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”
He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.
Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.
The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.
“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”
“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”
You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.
“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-
“Is it because you saw my nudes?”
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oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad
tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx
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evilgwrl · 11 hours
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Part 2 to this
CW: exhibitionism, reader is HORNY ASF like rlly fkn horny, use of buttplugs and sex toys, THIS IS SO FILTHY BUT PLS LMK IF U WANT MORE WORK LIKE THIS
Taglist: @valentineofoctobers
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At first it made you awkward, knowing your roommate had seen you like that, but the awkwardness turned to desire. Something carnal had possessed you as you found excuses to spend more time near him, teasing him until he snapped.
You started off tame, bending over slightly with lacy panties on, the mere display of them shown before you walked away. Then you grew more confident, wearing no undergarments as you wiped the floor down, your skirt leaving nothing to the imagination as the slit of your pussy tantalised his view, brown eyes drawn to your exposed cunt.
You grew frustrated as he expressed no need to fuck you, only offering you a longing glance and a slight view of his growing bulge before he walked away.
“Simon! Can you help me for a second?” You called out, standing on a miniature ladder to reach your top kitchen shelf.
You could hear him grumble slightly and his door shut, before heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. “What do you need?”
“Can you just make sure I don’t fall?” You cooed sweetly, indicating to the top shelf. You watched his eye colour disappear into a shade of white as he rolled his eyes before his hands were on your hips.
You climbed up to the furthest step, slightly nervous as you wobbled, feeling around the dusty shelf. You could hear Simon breathe out deeply. A heart shaped toy was wedged in your ass, the glistening reflection of lube soaking in-between your bare pussy as your clit visibly throbbed.
You spread your legs slightly, giving him a better view of your soaked folds, thighs slightly saturated with arousal as you hummed, clenching your entrance.
“Found it!” You smiled, turning around to look at him, “Can you help me down now?”
He nodded, his hands at your hips as he lifted you onto the ground. You offered him a polite nod, patting him in on the shoulder as you walked away. Simon let out a groan, taking in the tent in his pants as he groped himself, thick cock straining against the material.
Maybe you should have stopped at that. But you didn’t.
You left your door open just the slightest, an invitation, if you will. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before.
You bared yourself from any clothing, bare tits bouncing in the air as you positioned your needy cunt over a dildo, thick silicone sheath barring your pillowy walls as you sunk down. You let out a pathetic whine, cooing into the air as you dribbled slightly before you set a growing pace.
You were loud, harsh moans sinking into the air as you fucked yourself, teasing your sweet spots with every thrust as a hand came to your clit, rubbing the nub with fervour.
Simon grew irritated listening to you. The absolute thrill in your sounds stirring his cock even more.
Your body was docile as you rode the toy, a figure 8 swirling against your sensitive jewel as you spluttered into the air, a growing orgasm approaching you. You were so needy, so desperate for it as you screamed out, head thrown back as you came, gushing onto your sheets as your tits bounced.
Simon’s foot steps were heavy as he threw open the door, eyes wild as he took in your panting figure.
“You want to get fucked? That’s it? Open your fucking legs and I’ll make sure you’re never able to come again unless it’s with me.”
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redcherrykook · 2 days
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── .˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TENSION DEGREE 06
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College roomate!Jungkook x college roomate!reader- fwb 2 Lovers
You find yourself having to share your room with a very sexually active medical science major who so happens to fancy you. Good thing he´s as charming and spontaneous as you, leading to many crazy parties and places you probably should not be hooking up at. When Jungkook started ignoring all his booty calls after accidentally calling someone by your name, unable to fuck away the thought of you, he knew he was cooked. Would he really leave his playboy antics for that sweet company of yours?
series- six!
content: mild slow burn- fwb2l, roomates, mutual pining, player jungkook that falls devoted to reader, cocky!JK, Confident!reader, psychology major reader, banter, parties, lots of smut (duh), only one bed trope, skinny dipping, roadtrip vibes
episode- warnings: panty kink, male masturbation, Jk is absolutely whipped
Taglist: @khadeeeeej @ot7stansthings @whoa-jo @smoljjks @stvrlighytt @nono13bnd @jungshaking @junniesoleilkth @deepikhaprakash @rockstryoon @tatamicc @jjeonjjk7 @kookieandjoonberries @jcrl99 @httpjeonlicious @wnteraezz @aphrodyteeth @miniesjams32 @emojkoo @katie-tibo @user-190811 @massivebearharmony @hoseokteardrop @hoseoksluv89 @hoseoksluv90 @jeonsworld @jeonsbabygirlsworld
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Jungkook is going crazy right now.
His eyes scan over your closet door, falling on the little drawer at the bottom.
Chewing on his lip, he stays standing in the doorway, asking himself is he´s seriously that desperate.
the answer is yes, yes he is.
He can´t help himself, reaching inside the drawer filled with little lacy undergarments, reeking of your vanilla essence and fabric softener,
with a pounding heart, his delicate hands rummage until they land on his favorite pair of your panties,
purely lace, baby pink and more coverage at the butt, barely covering anything in the front.
You had worn them when he first saw you like that at the beach
His breath heaves, memories of your skin wrapped in it flooding back to him, reminding him how he pulled them to the side and shoved his entire length into you,
Sitting back on his own bed, his boxers pulled down and his throbbing, pink and leaking cock staring back at him, he knew there was no backing out now.
You haven´t kissed him since that incident eight days ago, haven´t let him shower with you, haven´t let his hands explore your skin
eight days, a huge deal for a retired fuckboy and to be honest, an even bigger deal considering you guys fuck like bunnies, whenever, where ever
Puling your skirt up in a dressing room, locking you both in a bathroom of a random party dorm, it didn´t matter,
if you wanted him, he needed you
He might be crazy for this, and maybe you would hate him if you saw it, but jungkook is loosing his mind with each rejected attempt
His hands itch to roam under your shirt, his lips impatient for the next taste of you,
Something is wrong, something you don´t want to tell him,
None of that matteres right now, now when he wraps his cock in with your lace undies, his hand covering the middle of him, slowly pumping himself with the help of the cute fabric,
´´oh fuck´´ , he mutters, throwing his head back, droplets of sweat forming on his temple,
his hand speeds up, imagining it to be yours, the friction on his tip making it even more sensitive,
jungkook whimpers almost pathetically, getting himself off with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and his doe eyes shut tightly from pleasure, focused on the mental image of you, you everywhere, sitting on his cock, touching him, kissing him
He can´t stand it, but he needs you, he wants you
With a gasp like moan, the familiar throbbing of his tip unleashes, coating the pretty material in his cum,
with a heavy breath, his eyes open again, view spotting from the intensity
quietly, he watches the cum run down your panties,
´´I can´t believe i did that´´ he whispers to himself, gazing at his phone for the time
25 minutes until he´s gonna meet you on campus, having skipped his morning lesson to masturbate like a teenager,
He told you this morning, ´´leave without me, I don´t wanna go to first period, gotta get something done´´
Now that he remembers, why was your smile fading when he said that?
Why did you look drained of color when his phone buzzed right after?
It finally clicks for Jungkook.
´´Bunny, hey, sorry I´m late, i had to shower" he says, wrapping an arm around your waist as he approaches from behind
Your head turns to look at him, softly, a slight look of disappointment on your face,
quickly hiding it with a raised eybrow,
"It´s okay, just like maybe try to schedule your sessions later in the day, busy man" you chuckle, grabbing his cheeks before walking to the study hall,
Jungkook groans and jogs up behind you, "it wasn´t like that" he mutters, wrapping an arm around your shoulder
Although you tried your best to stay away from him physically until you´ve figured all this out, the way he´s so clingy recently is getting to you,
You miss him, you really do
In response to him, a hum escapes your lips,
"Chae asked me to come to this bar today, do you wanna go? Or are you busy?"
Jungkook wants to scream, thinking he´d rather be busy with you than you assuming all he does is sleep around,
"I´d go anywhere with you" he winks, sitting down on the chair and watching you sit down across from him,
sheepishly, a smile creeps up your face
"you´re cute, do you need something?" you chuckle, tilting your head as his fingers play with yours,
"Why?"
"You´re just being really sweet today, wondering if you either broke something or need anything"
he rolls his eyes, leaning forward a little bit,
the way your lips look right now has him captivated, desperate to kiss you,
"kinda do" he breaths out, "I want to kiss you again, but that´s not why I´m being nice"
"uh..god kook shut up" you bite your lip, turning away from his gaze,
"come on, why so shy? where´s your attitude bunny?" he teases and you swear you can hear the grin in his tone,
"If you come to the bar with me maybe i´ll kiss you, are you that desperate?" you try your best to return the energy, heart fluttering with his meaningless words,
if only you saw how desperate he was this morning, pumping his cock to the thought of you,
He snarks, retracting his hands,
"So desperate"
It´s your turn to roll your eyes now,
"Yeah, i guess so, am i scaring the girls off jeon? poor thing"
"There´s my girl and her nasty attitude"
You smile at him and he just smiles back, crossing his arms over his chest while he lets the sounds around just drown out, your eyes are enough to get lost in, enough to make him forget to answer your question
A part of you wanted to indulge yourself in his allure, let him sweet talk you into his submission, let yourself believe his siren like personality,
the other, much stronger part only wished he wouldn´t keep playing you like that, convinced that it´s all an illusion.
Quickly, that illusion shattered
"Once, please one time" you beg, giggling with a alcohol induced flush over your cheeks,
he shakes his head, smiling at your rosy face, "Hell no. I´d let you do anything bunny but come on? fruit roll up? that´s gross" laughing, both your hands tug on his exposed bicep, making a pouty face at him
"pleeease? I´ll eat it and give you head kook" his eyes widen, bursting out into a little fit of laughter,
"You´re crazy. If you let me eat whip cream of off you, we´ll do it" he says, pinching your cheek,
Before you can exclaim that this is definitely a deal, someone interrupts
"Hey Jungkook" a sweet, airy voice beams in your ears, a stark contrast to the louder music,
You turn to her first, swinging your dizzy figure to the side in the bar stool, eyes scanning over her with a smile,
she´s stunning, a tight dress hugging her body in all the right places, long blond hair framing the glow of her face,
Instinctively, you let go of his bicep, placing your hands to tug your own dress down
Jungkook turns too, a look of surprise in his eyes,
"Oh, hi Eri. what´s up?" he says, calmly
You look at the two of them, watching closely where he keeps his eyes but, they just flick back to you before landing on her face
"I should ask you that. You haven´t read my text since you gave me your number like, about two weeks ago" the flirty smile on her face looks good on her, even better when she takes a strand of her hair to play with,
Jungkook nods, "yeah, not really into it" he says and she visibly cringes, scoffing with a small smirk
"Oh? how´s that? Heard you also rejected yeji"
Jungkook´s eyes look back to yours, finding them glued on him,
you don´t miss the way he smiles at you before looking back to her,
the confusion in your system mixed with the vulnerability of the alcohol is creating too much space to interpret this,
he doesn´t make it any easier,
"Well, i just don´t wanna sleep around anymore. Got some´ else goin´ on. Good luck tho Eri"
For the first time this whole conversation, she looks over to you, nodding with a small grin on her pretty face,
"got it. Good luck to you too"
Silence fills your head as much as it does between you and kook,
"So? deal?" he nudges your side, but the silly convo from earlier doesn´t occupy you anymore,
The flower of hope he had watered has grown into a flourishing garden now, blooming inside your chest, clouding your senses with it´s beauty, with his scent, with being his all.
"Why didn´t you tell me?" you ask, sounding meek and fragile, your hands gliding over his skin, tracing his art
"Didn´t think it mattered, are you okay with that? with being.. exclusive like that?"
You look up to his face, finding it close to yours, feeling his breath on your cheek and his eyes glistening,
"Can i confess something?" you mumble, looking into your own reflection inside his large irises, reflecting the dim purple lights around you, painting him in a glow you´ve never seen him in before,
although it wasn´t the light that made him look so entirely yours,
"Anything pretty"
He scans over your strands falling off to the side effortlessly, to the rosy blush on your cheeks and the way your lipstick is a little smudged, before settling back on your enlarged eyes
"it makes me happy, having you to myself" slowly, a smile forms on his lips, his soft fingers find their way to caress your jaw, pulling you almost directly on to his lips,
desperate to meet you again, desperate to utter the words that have been running through his mind,
"I´ve been yours bunny, you just haven´t noticed"
and when you crash your lips down on his with the same grin you always give him,
he knew what had bothered you,
and he also knew that he just fixed it.
SORRY FOR THE SHORT CHAPTER ILYYY
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lulunothulu · 2 days
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Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙
Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗
“Don’t worry”
Tyler Owens x Reader
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“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.
He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.
When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.
“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.
He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.
‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.
Tyler’s heart stops.
Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.
He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.
He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.
When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.
“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.
He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”
He checks your pulse.
Good, steady but kind of weak.
Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.
Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.
The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.
“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.
He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.
“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.
“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.
———
At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.
How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?
He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.
Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.
“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.
“When?” He’d asked.
“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”
The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.
Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.
“Tyler?”
“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”
“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”
“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”
“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”
You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.
The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.
“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.
“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.
“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”
Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”
“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”
“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”
“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”
“10:30 PM,” he tells you.
“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.
Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”
“Sounds perfect.”
You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”
He turns around. “Yes baby?”
“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”
Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.
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Training Room Tension (Wolverine x f!Reader, smut)
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!reader
Summary: Training is just another form of foreplay between you and Logan. That's why no one trains with you guys anymore. It's just awkward.
Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut with a hint of sappy love and security at the end, dirty talk, taunting, unprotected sex, biting, spanking, rough sex, Rest In Piece(s) to your undergarments hehe, takes place in the X-Mansion, reader is some type of invulnerable mutant like Logan.
Word count: 2400
Author's Note: First time writing in forever! Praise be to "Deadpool & Wolverine" for bringing back my love and lust for Hugh Jackman. Wolverine in particular is one of my first loves. Shout out to by Bitchachos for reassuring me this obsession was okay. Love you guys! Thanks for reading and thanks to @pagesofivy for the title suggestion! I'm picturing older, thicker Logan from the 70s cuz of that mirror scene iykyk. But also love these XMen gifs. Ah hell I can't pick a favorite. He has aged sooooo well.
Hope people enjoy this and please don't be afraid to let me know! Words of Affirmation is my love language. LOL
I made a wolverine sideblog too because I want to reblog everything Logan and D&W related hehe ----> @feral4wolverine
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The team rarely trains with you and Logan in the same room anymore. For a good reason too. Sure, in short exercises, they can manage you guys. You're both part of the team after all, but the longer training scenarios, they'll make do without. They just know their feral, indestructible teammates will do their part in the real world fights.
Because as much as Logan admires your strength and determination...he also cannot stand it. You're stubborn. You're defiant. You're a tease and he can't take it anymore.
“You’re slowing down, babe, and pulling your punches,” you tease, dodging his swing and sweeping his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with a loud thud. He rolls over, grabbing your ankle before you can get back up. He drags you along the mats as he stands. “Ah, nonono!” you laugh, your arms waving and trying to get a grip on the floor. You get your other foot under you and turn yourself over trying to kick or hook your leg around his neck to take him down.
It doesn’t work this time but at least he lets go of your foot. Back on even ground, you’re swapping blows, punches, and blocks. You curse almost as much as he grunts.
"Run that pretty little mouth one more time," he growls, his arms interlocked with yours as he blocks your attack again.
"Or what, old man?" You push back, breaking his hold, your skin is slick with sweat and it gives you an advantage over Logan…in more ways than one. You’re slippery and fast and his reaction time is slower as his gaze lingers on every inch of exposed, glistening skin.
He pounces and were he not already so close, you would have been able to dodge him. Your feet don't have a chance to gain traction though as you scramble to get away. He swiftly grabs you by the waist, tossing you over his shoulder.
The action is fast enough that it steals your breath away. You're kicking and protesting as he carries you out of the gym. All the tech and weaponry in the Danger Room have borne the brunt of Logan's claws too many times, so the two of you have been banished to the school's gymnasium. Logan takes two stairs at a time as he carries you off in the direction of your shared room. It’s far from the student’s quarters and the walls are soundproof from back when Logan’s nightmares were more frequent. They’re all but gone since you maneuvered yourself into his life.
(It’s technically still his room only, but he was never going to ask you to move in, so you’ve just started sneaking things in and leaving items behind until it was obvious. You know he’s noticed and cleared space for your abandoned items in his dresser, closet, and bathroom. He’s just too stubborn to admit defeat. And you’re happy to spare his ego and let him be the one to finally mention it.)
If anyone in the mansion hears your grumbling and cursing, they tune you out–already accustomed to you and Logan bickering. Your protests die in your throat as you take a sharp intake of air when he smacks your ass, his large hand definitely leaving a stinging mark. If it's not already red, he may spank you one or two more times...especially if you mouth off.
Once in his room, he tosses you onto his bed but you bounce back up and try to shove past him, a half-assed attempt to keep playing cat and mouse, to make him chase you some more. He hooks you around the waist and throws you back on the bed, this time bearing down on top of you. His body is strong, solid, and heavy with adamantium as he pins you down, his chest vibrating with a growl.
"No more talking."
"Oh baby, that's not how I fuck," you moan and hook one of your legs around his waist. One hand grabs his ass, giving you leverage to grind against him.
"Such a filthy mouth," he snarls, his teeth grazing your jaw before he nips at your ear. His facial hair scratches at your skin, raising goosebumps along your flesh. Your nipples tighten and ache, desperate for his mouth.
"You love it."
His chest vibrates with another deep growl just before he claims your mouth, your lips smashing together hard enough that your teeth make contact, and your lips get caught in the crossfire. There's a brief taste of iron but whomever it belongs to heals quickly, the sting relieved as his tongue delves into your mouth.
"Can't...stand it...anymore. Can't take it," he groans as he kisses you. He pulls away just to kiss and bite along your jaw, down the column of your throat.
"Poor thing, powerless to resist me?" you keen, your breath hitching as he bites your neck a little harder, his tongue soothing it a second later. You grind your hips, answering with your own moans, proud of yourself for getting a rise out of him. Your nails dig into his back, definitely tearing at his shirt. He pulls his head back and hisses as the sensation rides the border between pain and pleasure. He reaches for you, his hands shackling your wrists and pinning your arms by your head.
"Be a good girl for once and don't move," he commands you, releasing your hands so that he can take off his shirt and rip off his belt. He yanks your pants down, getting increasingly agitated as he struggles with the fabric. With your shirt, he pulls it up until it bunches around your wrists, effectively shackling you. As for your sports bra and underwear…
"Nonono!"
SNIKT!
"Sonuvabitch!" you curse as he cuts the fabric with one of his claws. He just chuckles. He's slowed down just for a moment to drag a single claw down the middle of your sports bra, along the line of your cleavage. Your breasts spill out as he cuts the straps next. Your breasts are bared to him and he lavishes them with the attention you crave. You no longer keep your hands above your head as you card your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on it as you arch your back and press your breasts further into his hands and mouth. He bites at your supple flesh as his fingers knead your nipples into aching peaks. A mewling whimper escapes your lips as you roll your hips against him some more but his jeans are still on.
"Are you gonna fuck me, or do I need to get myself off?" you challenge him while biting your bottom lip. His answer comes after he slides a hand down your body and rubs your pussy through your soaked underwear.
"Nobody makes you come but me, sweetheart," he says gruffly, his own arousal evident in his voice before he kisses you again, deeply, passionately, possessive. He steals your breath away and when he lets you up for air you gasp, your chest heaving as he's pinned your breasts between you. You love the feeling of his chest hair against your skin.
"Then prove it…Bub," you gasp, surprising yourself and giggling at the use of the nickname. He shakes his head with amusement, only slightly cringing at your joke.
The next thing you know, he's sitting up, unzipping his jeans and ripping your underwear off without the use of his claws. (You don't wear your nicer panties when sparring with Logan is on the schedule.) The sports bra, you'd thought you could save. His dick is straining against his boxer briefs but you hardly get a glimpse of his perfectly thick cock before he's pushing inside you.
Normally, you like it when he fingers you first. When he stretches you out with two or three fingers while he tongues and sucks on your clit. You lament the opportunity for beard burn on your inner thighs but you’ll make up for that some other time. For now you’re just as desperate for him, as he is for you.
"Mmm fuck," he growls as he bottoms out. "So fucking tight. So wet. Love the scent of you on my sheets." He hunches forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck. He bites and sucks a mark into your skin. It'll heal, but at least the two of you will know it was there. You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling on it, your nails scraping his scalp. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles in the small of his back.
"Yes, Logan, yes baby fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me come," you urge him on, trying to roll your hips to match his rapid rhythm, but you can't keep up. The sensations are intense and overwhelming, until you've lost the strength in your arms and you just let yourself go. You submit to him in every way, allowing yourself to be used for his pleasure just as you know your pleasure is his. "Fuck, Logan, I'm so close…" you moan.
Your body is languid, liquid heat beneath him, your skin scorching hot no matter where he touches you. He drags his big hands down your body, starting at the base of your throat, over your heartbeat, kneading your breasts before sliding them down your stomach and grasping your hips. Changing pace to long, hard strokes, he rubs your clit with his thumb as he raises your hips off the bed. Your hips start bucking like you're trying to get away from the intensity of his thumb on your clit, but he keeps pulling you back to him, thrusting deeper as you two battle for release. You cry out, coming so hard your legs are shaking. You reach out to him and he extends one of his arms. Your fingers dig into his forearm as you hold on, feeling like you could fly off the bed, but Logan has you. He'll never let you go.
"Ohh, fuck," he groans, his mouth hanging open and his lips almost pulling back to bare his teeth like an animal. His eyes roll back as he nearly loses himself to the feeling of your orgasm, the pulsing sensation of your pussy squeezing him tight. You keep rolling your body, pushing and pulling with your grip on his arm,  drawing out your climax. His fingers dig into your hips. He finally bares his teeth, growling, his face twisting into a feral snarl. "Fuck, baby."
He pulls out suddenly and you cry, mourning the loss of being full. But then he flips you over, fast enough to elicit a startled giggle. His smug chuckle is lost as you end up face down on the bed. You're about to get up to your hands and knees when Logan slams back into you, going deeper from this position. You moan into his pillow, noting his own unique smell of leather, cigars, and pine. His hand holds onto your shoulder for leverage as he starts piston his hips at a rapid pace, fucking into you from behind, pressing you into the mattress.
“Don’t stop. Keep going,” you urge him on, knowing that the moment it’s too much for you, if you say stop, he will. “Oh my god, fu--I'm gonna come again," you whimper. He lets out a rugged laugh and spanks your ass...once, twice, and then rubbing your skin to soothe the red marks before he grabs your ass to help you push back and ride his dick.
"Yesss," he hisses, "Yeah sweetheart, let it go, come again. I've got you," he grunts, the words oddly sweet in contrast to the pounding you're getting.
Your next orgasm is matched by his. You can't see him behind you but you know what it looks like when Logan comes. You love the way his nose scrunches up, his head falls back and then rolls to the side like he's about to crack his neck. Then he shakes head like he's clearing his head from the fog of mind-blowing sex. His body shudders, all of his muscles are tense, flexed, rock hard. If you were on your back, you'd be kissing and nipping at his broad chest as you rake your nails down his abs. For now, you can take in the sight of him by straining to look over your shoulder. His thrusts stutter to a complete stop as he fills you up.
"Yes, baby…yes, feels so good," you pant, praising him. The corner of his mouth turns up in a proud smirk. He takes a few deep breaths and slides his hand up and down your spine. You fully sink into the mattress, boneless and spent, and he leans over you, propping most of his weight on his arms beside you.
Your breathing synchronizes as you lay there together. He peppers your shoulders with open mouth kisses and gently nips at the curve of your neck as you expose it.
"You like that, sweetheart?" he murmurs softly in your ear.
"Mmm, yes," you answer, "always." Your eyes are closed as you focus on the remnants of pleasure coursing through your body. You press your ass against him, earning yourself a few more lazy, taunting thrusts from him. He pulls out, his dick still hard and throbbing with a stamina unmatched by your own. You clench your legs shut, determined to keep his seed inside you, as you both love a messy round two. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him until you're on your back and looking up at him.
"You drive me crazy, baby girl," he grumbles…with obvious affection as he nuzzles you and then softly kisses you.
"You love it," you defend yourself playfully.
"Mmmhmm," he growls his agreement before kissing you again, one hand slowly exploring the planes of your body once more. He loves it when you play hard to get. He loves it when you talk back and antagonize him. He loves having a partner who keeps up with him and then still kicks his ass in training. He loves it when you challenge his lone wolf act. He loves it all, because it makes these moments happen--moments where two seemingly invincible people can come together and feel safe enough to love and be loved.
-----
It's been 2 years since I posted any fics... I hope ya'll liked this! Let me know!
p.s. made a wolverine specific sideblog: @feral4wolverine
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heart-eyed-love · 21 hours
Text
Your Stupid Little Fucker
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Summary | Eddie teases you about a said stuffed animals that turns out you don't have anymore and he takes that to heart.
Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to- Lovers (eventually), Cursing…
Word Count | 1.3k
An | Soooo, I kinda want to make series of oneshots and drabbles and what not for a bestfriend!eddie and bestfriend!reader, so i think this will be my first installment of that… and i’ll write stuff for the timeline that will be put out, out of order but i’ll make a masterlist so everything can be ordered correctly @_@ (which is also heavily inspired by the way wheels-of-despair sets up her amazing evil woman series)
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“And you still sleep with it?” Jeff laughs as he questions Gareth, whose face only seems to be getting redder. But you’re not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or building anger.
“No, I don’t sleep with it, Asshole.” Gareth glares over at the boy, “Just because I still have it doesn’t mean I sleep with it.” 
“Then why do you still have it?” Grant questions with a grin. As he lifted the stuffed animal off of Gareth's bed as he seemed to inspect it.
Gareth was 100% not enjoying the interrogation on the stuffed rabbit that he had had since he was a baby. If he had known that everyone would have ended up in his room after band practice he would’ve hidden the ratty old thing.
“My mom is making me keep it.” It was a lie, and obvious one at that, but just in time Eddie cut in. Ultimately it wasn’t to benefit Gareth, but rather to put you on the spot.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. (Y/n) still sleeps with one too!” He looks over to you with a smirk, teasing tone he knows will piss you off. And he’s proud to be met with a glare already staring back at him.
“No, I don’t.” The other boys giggle, but Gareth feels your pain so he stays quiet.
“So, you don’t still sleep with that stuffed bat?” He eggs you on.
Ah. The stuffed bat. One that Eddie himself had so proudly won for you back in your freshman year. He was pleasantly surprised with himself that night at the fair, an “athletic” game that involved him throwing? And actually successfully knocking down all the pins? Yeah, he was pretty stoked, he was able to pull that off on the first try. If he had missed those with you standing next to him that experience would have been all too humbling.
But no, he had successfully won you a prize. A stuffed bat he picked, and he turned to you with an overly cocky smile for a guy who had gotten lucky with his shots.
But the bat seemed fitting, something he’d selfishly hoped you would see and immediately think of him.
“For me?” You ask with a smirk as he hands the plush over to you.
“Yeah, well I don’t have much use for it…” He’s trying to act all cool about it, but he knows he only even purchased tickets to play that game for you.
“Well, thank you, kind sir.” You smile up at him.
“Yeah, whatever, dork.” He shoves your head playfully and turns away before the slight redness of his cheeks can be noticed by you.
To say the least, that night was a night both of you remembered fondly. One of your favorite memories is Eddie gifting you that stuffed bat, and now he’s using it to try to embarrass you?
“No, I actually don’t, Eddie. I got rid of that thing.” Lie, big lie. It currently sat smack dap next to the pillow you slept on but you weren’t going to admit that. It probably wasn’t the best thing to lie about but right now, you didn’t care, he was trying to embarrass you and you weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.
But why should you be embarrassed? Is it weird that you kept it after all this time? Is it weird that you feel so attached to it because Eddie gave it to you?
But in the slight blinded anger you felt, the fall of Eddie’s cheeky, teasing attitude had gone unnoticed by you. 
“You got rid of it?”
“Yeah, kinda just outgrew it I guess.” He watches you shrug like it’s nothing, like he had won that thing especially for you.
And truthfully, as Eddie thought back to it he couldn’t actually recall if it had been in your room the last time he went in there, he really just couldn’t remember. 
Thankfully for you though, cause yeah, it was still in there then too.
The boys have already moved on to another subject, and Jeff and Grant recklessly went through Gareth's comics as he screeched at them to be careful snatching it away from Grant. You walk past Eddie and over to the boys, taking your own time to look through the piles, trying to forget lying directly to Eddie’s face.
He stood moderately frozen at the news you just broke to him, but he pulled himself out of it and rejoins the groups, staying rather quiet as he went through the comics.
Staying way quieter than Eddie normally would all the way until pulling back up to your house that evening. And you finally crack…
“What’s wrong?” You asked with a brow raised in confusion as you looked over at the boy. 
“Nothing, wrong. Why would something be wrong?”
“Cause you’re barely talking… and while I do love this peace and quiet…” you tease but to no avail, “it’s not like you…”
“Did you actually get rid of it?” He turns to you suddenly, and you’re partially surprised by the harsh tone.
“What?” You know exactly what but you don’t know how to get into this right now.
“Did you actually get rid of it? Like did you give it away or did you just throw it in the garage or something?” His tone becomes more annoyed by the second, and you actually fear you might have made him mad. Which wasn't what you had even wanted in the first place, you just wanted him off your back.
“I never said-“ But he’s quick to cut you off.
“Because honestly it’s kinda shitty if you did either way.”
Now you’re rolling your eyes and he’s widening his. Why don’t you care about this?
Why isn’t he letting you speak? Instead of even trying to explain you just slide out of the van as Eddie watches with furrowed brows. 
Were you actually walking away from him right now?
“Are you coming?” You ask over your shoulder as you approach your front door, and you stand there as you watch Eddie scrambling to turn his van off and hop out to meet you at the door.
You both walk to your bedroom silently, and Eddie trails behind you kind of confused but ultimately letting this play out. And as you open your bedroom door you walk a few feet in and you point to the soft plush sitting next to your pillow.
“Where it literally sits every single time you come over, where it sits every single day. I don’t know how you actually believed me.”
“Why did you lie…?” He asks softly.
“Cause you were obviously trying to embarrass me for still having it.”
“What? No! I was just messing around, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it, (Y/n)…” He tries to defend, “Sorry… I’m glad you still have it, relieved actually.”
“Yeah, Well no shit, I thought you were about to start crying in the van…” You tease, lightening the moment.
“I was not about to cry.” He glares, “It’d just be pretty rude, considering I almost threw my back out trying to win that stupid thing for you.”
“Almost threw your back out?!” You cackle out at his dramatics, “Eddie, the pins weren’t even 10 feet away from you.”
“Yeah, I put my athletic abilities to the test for you and this is the thanks I get?” You pull fingers into quotes as he mentions his athletic abilities, and he rolls his eyes at you.
“You did all that just for me?” You tease with a smirk, “You really won that for me?” 
“Yeah, whatever. Thought it would be nice.” He rolls his eyes again and plops onto your bed, purposely knocking the stuffed bat off your bed, causing you to let out an audible gasp.
“Oh my Gosh, you did not just do that!” You screech as you dramatically pick him up and cradle him to your chest with faux shock.
“What? That stupid fuckers causing a lot of drama.” He smiles playfully.
“Yeah, well, he’s my stupid fucker.” You say setting the bat back down in its rightful spot. Smiling down at Eddie as you do.
And he can’t help but smile back. 
God, he hopes he can be your stupid fucker too.
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robinsfilm · 3 days
Text
OH, TAKE ME BACK (TO THE NIGHT WE MET)
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PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;
SYNOPSIS: the promise between the two of you never broke, not on that roof as children, not even now.
ANON ASKED: " Reader meets/is with Jay after he becomes Red Hood. After finding out that he used to be Robin, she recalls an interaction she had years ago with the Boy Wonder, unaware that they would paths again years later. " ;
WORD COUNT: 0.8k ;
NOTES: i like this one, i truly do, writing angst is a whole different experience. this is angst/comfort though, because i'm not evil (because i can't handle it). cross posted on my AO3.
♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.
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THE NIGHT SKY OF GOTHAM HOLDS NO STARS TO COMFORT YOU. No stars to shed the soft and guiding light on you as you sit on the steep edge of the roof. Small feet dange from the brink as a heavy feeling settles in your heart, spreading like an infection, all-consuming in your body.
The tears falling from your eyes onto your cheeks go unnoticed by you, even as they drop onto your wobbly and scarred knees. They burn.
You wish the sky did not look somber and dim tonight. The cold air bites at any exposed flesh, even crawling its way into your clothes. Any semblance of comfort had been stripped from your hands; no amount of clawing and hanging on mattered. You were alone, on an abandoned roof, overlooking Gotham in all her melancholic glory.
Only the sounds of cars passing and the distant murmur of people filled your ears until a shuffle behind you caught your attention.
Turning your head, you tried to focus your gaze on the person—the kid behind you.
He seemed to be around your age, with messy hair, cheeks red, and chests rising. The red and green of his suit standing out next to the washed-out color of our surroundings. But the golden ‘R’ engraved above where his heart should be leaves no chance for you to mistake who the boy in front of you is.
The Robin.
Robin stands here with you. He opens his mouth to speak, although hesitantly, “You’re not going to jump, are you?”
You stare at him for a moment, taking every detail of him in: his jet black hair—a mess of ink on top of his head—his slightly tan skin; he has a hand out, reaching out to you; you can feel his eyes taking in your state.
“You’re not very good at this.” You mumble as you shuffle away from the edge, “I’m not going to jump, bird boy.”
He straightens up, his spine going stiff. You think you're imagining the pink hue on his cheeks.
He pouts, “It’s Robin, actually.”
He takes a single step closer to you, as if asking if it's okay. When you don't decline, he settles down next to you, his yellow cape grazing your hand.
“You should get that cleaned,” he motions to your scarred knees.
“I will.” You answer with pensiveness in your detached voice.
He considers something for a moment before moving next to you. He takes your hand in his. He feels warm, you note.
“C’mon. I’ll help you.” He speaks as he pulls you away from the edge, away from the somber and dim sky, the biting cold air.
He glances back at you. When he sees the unconvinced look in your eyes, his jaw tightens. “I swear.”
“You’re not going to fly away somewhere else, bird boy?”
“I’m staying here.” With you.
His stare doesn't leave your gaze, just as his hand doesn't waver in its hold of yours. You don't pull away; you don't push him away.
You hold onto his hand, letting him guide you instead of the stars of the dim sky.
Strange, you note; your heart doesn't feel so heavy anymore.
*****
The mellow air spreads through the shared apartment of you and Jason as it wraps you in its warm hold. The dim night sky is lit by only the moon and a single star following the crescent moving through the coal-black sky.
Jason settles his head on your chest, bringing his ear to your chest, feeling your heartbeat. It flows through his body as a solace, bringing him comfort.
When you recall the interaction with the young Robin, he could see the bittersweet memory in your wistful eyes. Your saudade voice rings out in his mind over and over again.
He remembers an icy cold night, so unlike this one in your arms. He remembers the biting air, the starless sky, how even the moon decided to abandon Gotham City that day, how it left its people alone.
How it left you on that roof.
He remembers approaching you, seeing the way you curled into yourself, the way you hid from the word that night.
He remembers taking your freezing hand in his, clutching it in his hold as a feeble attempt to warm them.
He remembers how unsure you looked and how you were already getting ready for the chance for him to let go and leave you alone on that roof. The hesitant shaking of your hand in his leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
He remembers the moment of trust appearing—the moment when you let him tend to you. Two confused children on a cold Gotham night, looking for warmth wherever they found it.
Jason wraps his arms around you tighter, tangling his lips around yours as one. You return his hold, arms wrapping around his neck, burying yourself in the safety of him, wherefore the word ceases.
“I’m not leaving, not again.” He mumbles in the crook of your neck. You're thankful he can't see you right now.
The tears you shed for him, he already knows.
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
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© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.
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Note
Can you do Aemond x f!reader? And the reader being a lot like Helaena (I'm projecting lol, I want an autistic reader basically). Just fluff between them, maybe newlywed?
Learn to Love you - Aemond Targaryen x WifeReader
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summary: Aemond tries to understand his new wife, but you are too much like his sister. He can't get through to you. One evening he tries it with direct confrontation and is rewarded with a glimpse of you and hope for the future. After this evening his wife is not a complete stranger anymore.
words: 2.818
warnings: softAemond, a bit angst
a/n: based on the request above. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as fluffy as it should. I hope you like it anyway :) I'm not autistic myself and don't want to hurt any feelings with the portrayl of the Reader. I based her on Helaena in the show.
Gif not mine// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // AO3 // not proofread// requests are open
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Aemond moves quietly through the halls of his home. The Red Keep slowly goes calm. The sun has already set, and most have retreated to their private chambers. Aemond is tired and longs for his own chambers and his bed. He had spent the evening a little longer than usual talking with Ser Criston. The sworn shield of his mother and he had trained together in the courtyard in the morning. Criston had discussed a few improvements with him. If his sore muscles would allow it, Aemond would try out the improvements tomorrow. But before he can retreat for the evening, he still has a task to complete. He still has his evening visit with his wife to attend to.
His marriage is not really how he imagine it would be. It's been almost a week since you two got married. You've known each other for 10 days. When you arrived at the Red Keep and he saw you for the first time, he had been relieved. A pretty face and a friendly smile had greeted him. Aemond tried to get to know you and realized that you are more than just a pretty face. You are nice, polite, smart, well-read, but strange. Often you drift off into your own world. Captured by your thoughts. You will be in a place where Aemond cannot follow you. And he quickly realized that you can't stand it when he touches you.
During your wedding ceremony, you didn't touch him more than necessary. The touch of your lips almost triggered a panic attack for you. You tore your hand away from his. Aemond would have liked to hold your hand a little longer. On this night, he did not dare to lay with you. This didn´t change over the last week, so you are still a maiden. Not that Aemond has told anyone, and as far as he knows, you haven't said a word either.
Maybe it's because he is a stranger to you? Aemond doesn't really know what to do. He doesn't like the situation. But he also doesn't know how he should change it. His usual solution, Vhagar, will definitely not work here.
He tried to seek advice from his brother. I don't know. With Helaena, it was different. I knew her well before we got married. For your wife, you are just a stranger. Aegon is right but Aemond didn't know how to change that.
So he went to his mother. Give her time to get to know you.
Both pieces of advice only led him to visit you every evening and try to get to know you. However, you mostly sit there in awkward silence and do not look at each other. You still feel uncomfortable in his presence he knows this.
Arriving at your chambers, he takes a deep breath once more and steps inside. The room is still lit by a few candles. He closes the door and watches as you pace restlessly in front of the fireplace.
"You are later than usual." you say, stopping in your movement. Now that Aemond is here, the unrest fades a little. Still, it bothers you that he doesn't come to visit you during his usual time frame. It's actually almost time for you to call your maids so they can help you change and you can go to sleep.
“I apologize for being late.” Aemond says even though he doesn't understand why it bothers you. Have you already gotten your hopes up that he won't come today? You look at him for a moment and then nod.
Without saying a word, you sit down in the armchair by the fireplace where you sit every evening. Aemond takes off his sword belt and places his weapon next to the door. He had considered that it might make you nervous that he carries a sword with him. So he puts down his weapon every evening before he sits down with you. Fortunately, you know nothing about the dagger in his boot.
Aemond even had a dagger made for you as a wedding gift. A beautiful weapon, with a gracefully curved handle and on the blade, just before the hilt begins, is a small dragon embossed that is inspired by Vhagar. Aemond hasn't had the chance to give you this gift yet. He knows that you need to get to know him better in order to understand the thought behind it. You should always be able to protect yourself, in case he might not be able to someday.
He shakes off the thought and sits down in the other armchair next to the fireplace. You don't look at him, but into the flames. Just like every evening. When you start to speak in a quiet voice he almost flinches.
"Why are you later than usual?" your hands are playing with the fabric of your skirt. You haven't changed for the night yet. You´re never when Aemond comes into your chambers. Even your hair is still braided into tight braids. Aemond feels like a visitor in his wife's chambers.
"I discussed my training with Ser Criston. There were a few problems this morning," he replies honestly.
Your face shows no reaction as you respond. “Are you hurt?”
Are you worried about him? No. Why should you? He is a stranger to you. But he still worries about you even though you are a stranger to him. After all, you are married. He wished he could read your thoughts.
"No, I am not hurt. Even though I don't really want it, Ser Criston is always a bit cautious during training with me." he is trying to ease your worries. If you are worried. Again, he tries to read your expression, but your face remains still. Your only reaction is that you turn your head to look at him. The fire in the fireplace casts warm light on your profile and your skin shimmers almost like gold. Once again, Aemond notices how beautiful you are. You look at him, and your gaze prompts Aemond to continue speaking. "I don't want him to hold back because, in a serious situation, my opponent won't hold back either."
"Which serious situation?" you still ask in a quiet voice.
"I don't know. If my family is in danger." and then he adds quietly. "If you are in danger."
The corner of your mouth twitch slightly and you almost smile. Then you turn your gaze away again and look into the fireplace. Aemond suppresses the urge to reach for your hand in your lap. Silence spreads again between you. The uncomfortable silence causes a hot burning sensation in Aemond's gut. Still, he can't take his eyes off you. You seem a bit sad. He decides that it can't go on like this. Aemond has to swallow and gathers all his courage to speak again.
"You are not happy."
This time you turn not just your head towards him but your whole body. He is surprised when your gaze meets him and you look directly into his eyes. Rarely can you hold his gaze. Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you think. It takes a moment before you respond.
"No. No, it's just that it's hard for me. My father brought me here, and this is a strange place for me. All the people around me are strangers. I miss my family and my home. Everything I knew was taken away from me. I was used to everything at home. I had my routines and everything. It's hard for me to adjust to all these new things around me. But it doesn't have anything to do with you."
Aemond is surprised by your words and needs a moment to truly understand what you have said. Guilt overwhelms him. It is his fault that you were kidnapped from your home. Because you had to marry him.
"I'm sorry," he says. Now it is him who cannot withstand your gaze and he looks at his hands.
"I don't blame you." once again, you surprise him your voice is now a bit firmer. "It wasn't your decision to marry me. Just as it was not my decision to marry you. That was agreed upon by our parents." you sigh. "You are not happy either. And that is my fault. I know that I'm weird."
"No! I don't find you weird."
You laugh softly and at the sound Aemond's heart skips a beat. He is looking at you again, he wants to hear you laugh once more.
"You don't have to lie."
"I am not lying. I don't find you weird. You remind me of my sister."
Your eyes start to shine. "Hel. I like her a lot."
He feels a slight tug at his heart. Aemond knows that you usually spend your days in the company of his sister Helaena. He has seen both of you walking in the garden a few times or engrossed in conversation while eating. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Helaena.
"Yes, I know. Do you spend a lot of time with her?“
You nod. "Yes. I enjoy being with her." "What are you doing all day?"“ Aemond is clinging to every strand. Everything is better than this uncomfortable silence between you.
"Oh, very different things. Sometimes we read together, or she explains something to me about insects. Sometimes I read one of my poems to her. Or I’ll give her one to read."
Aemond is captivated by the sparkle in your eyes.
"You write poetry?" he asks, annoyed with himself for not knowing this about you, but Hel did. Your cheeks are slightly turning red, and for the first time, Aemond feels like he can read your emotions from your face.
"Yes, among with other things. I also enjoy reading poetry. My favorite poet is Marcus Hill. He writes incredibly well. My poems are not even close to being that good. But I don't just write poems, I also write short stories. This helps me organize my thoughts better. But I like most writing poems.“ you speak a little faster than usual, which reveals your excitement to Aemond. He can't help but smile at the sight. Now that you are passionately talking about your interests, you are even more beautiful.
Suddenly you jump up from your chair. Aemond's hand instinctively goes to where his sword's hilt usually is. In the next second, it becomes clear to him that there is no danger, and he relaxes again. You didn't notice anything because you turned away immediately and took a few uncertain steps through your chamber before turning back to him. Uncertain, your hands begin to play with the fabric of your skirt. You take a deep breath and then search for his gaze for a second before looking away again. Aemond leans forward a bit, tense with anticipation. Finally you start to speak. "Would you like to… I mean just if you want? You don't have to." You stop yourself, take a deep breath and gathering your thoughts. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" you ask softly.
Aemonds heart skips a beat and a pleasant warmth spreads within him. "Yes. Very gladly."
You nod, turn back around, and walk to your nightstand. You pick up a book with a leather cover and open it. Aemond notices from his seat that it is stuffed with written pages, and almost every book page is filled with your neat handwriting. You rummage through the loose papers and then pull out a page before you close the book again and carefully place it back in its spot. You are coming back to him.
"I wrote this on the day of our wedding," you say, handing him the sheet of paper. In that moment, your fingertips brush against his. The touch is so fleeting that Aemond is not sure if he might have just imagined it.
He turns his gaze away from you and directs it to the folded paper between his fingers. He wants to open it to read your poem, but before he has really moved his fingers, your hand shoots forward and holds his hand firmly. Aemond skin tingles and he lightly closes his hands around yours.
"No. Please don't read it here. That would be too embarrassing for me. Please read it later and tell me tomorrow what you thought," you say quickly. Aemond looks up again and directly into your eyes. He saw you that close for the last time on your wedding day in the sept. A shiver runs through his body and he can only nod. You also nod and allow him to briefly squeeze your hand before you pull back and sit down again in your chair opposite to him. He already misses the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.
Aemond folds the paper with your face completely again and then puts it in the pocket of his shirt. Suddenly, this piece of paper is his most precious possession.
"Now you know something about me." you notice. Aemond can't gauge whether the fact bothers you or not. He hopes it  doesn´t. Before he can ask, you are already speaking again. "You like sword training. I could watch your training?” you suggest.
Aemond thinks about the training courtyard. About the loud clashing of the swords striking against each other, the sreams of the knights, the swearing and the rough manner of speaking among men. And then he thinks of you, his gentle, fragile wife. Sometimes the gentle background music that plays during dinner is too loud for you. You would hate it.
"No, this is not a suitable environment for you, my Lady. The men do not know how to behave in the presence of a princess." he explains.
"Oh."
Aemond sees how you stiffen a little again and turn your gaze back towards the fireplace. The fire is almost out. Aemond is afraid that the closeness he has found today will slip away from him again, and as a result, he starts to speak a bit too quickly.
"But if you want, I can join you on your walk tomorrow?" he is momentarily afraid that this will disrupt your routine, but you look at him again.
"Yes, that would be nice. I always take a stroll through Queen Alyssa's garden after afternoon tea."
Aemond must suppress a smile. He is, of course, well informed about your daily routine. Even though he hasn't really been able to talk to you until today, he has always kept a close eye on what you're doing. "I am happy to be allow to accompany you." his gaze falls on your hands folded in your lap, and once again, longing pulls at him to reach for your hand. "When we go for a walk. Would you allow me to hold your hand then? I know you don't like my touches. But...
"No. It's not your touches that I don't like.I don't like touches from anyone, regardless of who." you clarify things quickly. "But yes. I will allow it. I know about it know, so I can prepare myself for it. If I´m prepared I can hold your hand.”
This time Aemond cannot suppress his smile. A pleasant anticipation for tomorrow fills him and he feels as if he has made a significant step forward in his marriage today.
The ringing of the bell in the great sept makes you both flinch. Startled you look out the window, then you get up and walk through your rooms. "I have to call my maids and go to bed.It's already past my usual time."
Aemond quickly gets up as well and nods. Bad conscience about the fact that he disrupted your routine today weighs on him. He turns to the door and goes to his sword belt to put it back on. As he just fastens the buckle and turns to leave, you turn to him once more.
"Thank you, Aemond. Our conversation was good for me. I enjoyed it very much. I´m looking forward to our walk tomorrow and I'm curious to hear what you think of my poem."  and then you smile directly at him for the first time.
His heart starts to race immediately, and Aemond is sure that he has just fallen in love. Unconsciously, he places his hand on the pocket where he has put your poem. Then he returns your smile.
"Yes, I also enjoyed it very much. Good night, my Lady Wife. I will see you tomorrow."
"Good night, my Lord Husband.” you respond still with a smile on your face.  
Aemond nods briefly and then leaves your chambers. His steps are light, and he intends to speak with the steward first thing tomorrow morning so that he can arrange for the poet Marcus Hill to be invited to the Red Keep as soon as possible.
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min-imum · 1 day
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ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍
nsfw, mdni
content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me
anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.
mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.
additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.
he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.
so, naturally, you fall for him.
just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.
you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.
you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.
“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”
you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”
“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.
Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.
ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.
“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”
he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.
good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.
mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)
you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—
he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.
but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.
“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.
“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.
“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.
“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”
“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.
“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”
he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.
“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”
you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.
when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.
what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.
you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.
“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”
you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.
“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.
you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.
“no,” you squeak.
“then, may i touch you?”
you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”
you shiver. “yes. please.”
“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”
you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.
“can i kiss you?”
in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.
“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.
“just mingyu.”
“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.
“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.
“do you wanna fuck them?”
his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”
the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.
the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.
he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.
“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.
slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.
it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”
with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.
his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.
“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.
mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”
he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.
“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”
he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”
you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”
he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”
soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.
with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.
mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”
“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.
he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.
then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.
“mingyu?!”
“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”
you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”
you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.
his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.
“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”
“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”
“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”
he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”
his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.
he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.
“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”
“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”
“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”
he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.
“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”
you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”
he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.
“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.
with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.
finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.
you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”
“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.
“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.
“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”
his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”
you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”
with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.
“with pleasure.”
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ask-me-later23 · 2 days
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Can you write a little blurb about reader having a sleepy cuddly afternoon with Spencer?
Soft rays of light drifted through the curtains and across your face, a gentle reminder from the sun of its limited time with you. As much as you wanted to continue your adventures within your dreamscape, you were quickly stolen away, back to the real world. Back to the too small couch currently hosting you and your too tall boyfriend, Spencer. 
Afternoons like this were rare with him, he was always on call and even when he was home you both were typically too busy to spend an afternoon doing nothing. You both got the afternoon off and while you had said it would be just a few minutes of rest, those few minutes turned into a few hours, which had developed into the entire day.
Spencer was still asleep, you try not to move too much and wake him. His insomnia refuses to let him sleep for more than a few hours, so you know he needs what rest he can get.
This was also your favorite time to look at him, when he had his guard down and looked the most at peace. The beams that drew you from sleep now dance across his curls, making them shine a golden color that reminds you of honey. Freckles are sprinkled across his skin. You remember how you used to make a game of kissing each of them when you first got together. The memories bring a soft smile to your face as you listen to his snores. 
As if realizing he’s being watched, Spencer finally stirs. His eyes flitter open, revealing the rich, brown color that always reminded you of dark, vintage books. The corner of his lips tilt up into a smile and he pulls you in tighter. 
“Good afternoon sleepy,” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck.
He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well?”
“As well as I can having to listen to your loud ass snoring,” you tease, sitting up to check the time on your phone. 
Spencer rolls his eyes and rests his head back against the arm of the couch, stretching his arm across his face to cover the light. “45% of adult males snore on a regular basis, and it only gets worse with age. You should really get used to it.”
“Guess I’ll just have to go find somewhere else to sleep then.” You act like you’re going to stand up, only to have Spencer jump up from his resting position and drag you back down with him, his grasp unusually strong for a man of his stature. 
“Not gonna happen.” His grip holds firm as you attempt to wiggle away, giggling.
“We really should get up and be productive,” you murmur into his chest where he currently has your face stuck.
“Productivity is for tomorrow, today is for sleeping and comfort.”
While your mind tells you that his logic is faulty, you can’t ignore how his sweater smells strongly of books and laundry detergent, or how comforting that smell is. You also cannot ignore the circles he is currently rubbing on your back, just underneath your own sweater. So, instead of protesting, you nestle in closer and shut your eyes once more.
“Sleep it is.”
You both drift off to sleep again, locked in each other’s arms and isolated from the outside world. When you inevitably wake again and hear Spencer’s soft snores, all you can do is smile.
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tokeposts · 2 days
Text
⁀➷ UNSAID | K. BAKUGOU
pairing. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
genre. collage au, aged up au, angst w/ a happy ending
warnings. cussing, longing, jealousy, aggression
1.3K | jealousy is a disease and bakugou katsuki is riddled with it.
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When you reached his place, you knocked, only for the door to swing open almost immediately, revealing a tense Bakugou standing there, looking more agitated than usual.
"Let's make this quick," you stated, stepping inside cautiously.
He didn’t answer right away, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary. The loud bang echoed in the entryway. You watched him carefully, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides.
"You and that extra done?"
You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was bringing it up so bluntly. "We were never really dating, but yeah, I guess we are." You shrugged. "Why?"
His red eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms taut like he was holding something back. "Never really dating?" he echoed, voice dripping with disbelief. "You were all over that guy, calling him cute, acting like he was something special."
You furrowed your brows, confused. Bakugou was so quick in acting like he didn't care. He practically abandoned you and this was the first thing he wanted to bring up? Un-fucking-believable.
"Not to be that girl, but why do you care?" you sighed, the faint ache in the back of your head fueling your words. "You ignore me for weeks, act all weird, and then suddenly you want to talk?"
Bakugou’s jaw tightened at your anger, and you saw a flicker of something dangerous cross his face. His arms dropped to his sides, fingers twitching like he wanted to do something but ultimetly decided against it. Instead, he stepped closer. His mouth pressed into a deep scowl, his presence looming over you like a storm waiting to break.
"I’m being weird?" he snapped, voice low and sharp, both warning and desperate. "You think I haven’t noticed you acting like everything’s fine when you’re hanging around that fucking loser?" His red eyes bored into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart shake in its cage.
"What the fuck are you talking about? I can hang out with whoever I want, Katsuki. Let me say again that you haven't spoken to me in two weeks—"
"It pisses me off!" he shouted, stepping even closer, his breath fanning against your face. He caged you between his body and the wall. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his scent familiar and overwhelming.
His eyes were blazing, fury barely contained, and something more swirling behind them. "Seeing you with some guy, calling him cute and shit. Hanging off his every. Fucking. Word."
Your eyes widened, and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say. The room felt like it was closing in, the air thick with tension. Bakugou’s words hung in the space between you, raw and unfiltered, like he had finally let something slip out.
"You think I don’t care?" he scoffed, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "That I haven’t been paying attention? You just don’t get it."
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your throat tight as his words sank in, but you were just as angry as you were confused. If this man thought he could barge back into your life without so much as a clear explanation, he was dead wrong.
"Use your words," you said quietly, not backing down even though your voice wavered slightly. "Because all I saw was you ignoring me and then getting mad when I tried to fix it."
His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read— regret, frustration, maybe even fear— but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"I haven’t been ignoring you," he muttered, his voice strained now. "I’ve been trying to... I don’t know, hold back?"
"What— Hold back?" you shot, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Katsuki, if you don’t stop being so vague, I’m—"
Before you could finish, his hands shot out, seizing your waist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. In an instant, Bakugou’s lips were on yours— hard, urgent, like he’d been holding this in for far too long.
You gasped, startled by the intensity, but your body responded instinctively, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperately seeking some anchor in the storm of his affection. His kiss was rough, almost punishing. His mouth unyielding against yours, as though he was pouring all of his pent-up frustration and unspoken words into this one moment. He moved with a hunger that set your skin on fire, like if he stopped, you’d slip away.
He groaned low in his throat, tilting your head back and demanding more access, deepening the kiss with a ferocity that left you breathless. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.
Bakugou kissed you like a man starved, his desperation palpable in the way his lips moved against yours. It felt like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the way you fit against him. There was no hesitation, no restraint— just pure, burning need.
When he finally tore his mouth away, both of you were gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your pounding heart. He looked away, suddenly shy, a complete 180 from the man who had just made your knees weak seconds ago. It was a sight you thought you’d cherish forever.
His hot breath fanned over your face, shaking and uneven, but he didn’t let go. His fingers were still digging into your hips like he couldn’t bear to lose contact, like he needed to make sure you were still there.
“I care,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion, low and guttural like he was admitting something he could barely stand to say aloud. His fingers trailed along your hip, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
"I care too fucking much, and it pisses me off that I can’t stop thinking about it. So yeah, I’ve been distant, and yeah, I’ve been avoiding you, but that’s because I don’t know what the hell to do with this." His voice cracked slightly, the tension in his words making your heart race even faster. He didn’t have the nerve to look up at you yet, not when you hadn’t said a single thing, and it was killing him.
"So fucking sue me for trying to figure this shit out."
You swallowed hard, your mind racing to keep up with everything he was saying. His confession was raw, vulnerable in a way you had never seen from him before. He wasn’t just angry— he was scared. Scared of what he felt, scared of losing control, scared of what you meant to him.
"Katsuki..." you started, your voice soft, but he cut you off with a gruttal sigh. He looked up, red eyes boring into your own for the first time, and they were pleading, desperate.
"Don’t say anything," he muttered. "If you’re gonna say some pity shit, don’t wanna hear it."
You stared at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, and then, without thinking, you closed the distance between you again, your lips meeting his in another heated kiss. This time, it was slower, deeper, but still filled with that same urgency, that same need. His hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. Bakugou’s grip on you loosened, but he didn’t let go entirely, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your chest flutter.
"Next time," he muttered, his voice low and gruff, "don’t go running around with some fucking guy."
You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, even though your heart was still racing. "Next time, don’t wait so long to tell me you care."
His eyes flickered with something soft for just a moment, but then he huffed, looking away with a scowl. "Shut up."
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